by Farah Zaman
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m from the village.”
“No, you’re not,” Zaid said. “We’ve seen the news. We know you’re Danyal Hazni.”
“You’re mistaken.”
“I don’t think so,” Layla said. “We know Mahmood has been bringing you food. We saw all the stuff in the kitchen. What happened to your kidnappers?”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
“Look at me and you’ll see the reason why.” Adam took Layla’s flashlight and held it to his face.
The youth gasped, his eyes opening wide. “You look just like me.”
“Yes, I was nearly grabbed twice by hoodlums who mistook me for you,” Adam said.
“What?” Danyal exclaimed. “Where did it happen?”
“The first time was by the wharf when we arrived in Wijdan and the second time was at the Marzuqah Mall.”
Zahra said, “Now, will you tell us what happened to your kidnappers?”
“Only if you promise you won’t breathe a word that I’m here.”
“We have to tell Heba,” Adam said. “She knew we were coming here tonight. I promise we won’t tell anyone else if you don’t want us to.”
“Who’s Heba?”
“She’s our new friend at the orphanage,” Layla said. “She’s very trustworthy.”
“Alright, I suppose you can tell her.”
“So, how did you escape your kidnappers?” Zaid asked.
Danyal took a deep breath. “I wasn’t kidnapped. I ran away here.”
“Ran away?” Layla said. “For goodness sake, why?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Can you share them with us?” Adam said. “If you’re in trouble, maybe we can help you.”
Danyal was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Alright, let’s go inside. It’s a long story.”
Back in the house, they sat on the sofas while Danyal lit a candle. Studying them in the candlelight, he asked, “Are you all brothers and sisters?”
“No,” Layla said. “I guess we should introduce ourselves.”
After they had given him the lowdown on who they were, Danyal said, “How did you know Mahmood was here?”
“We were by the lake when we saw a light,” Zaid said. “We couldn’t find Mahmood and one of the canoes was missing. We guessed he had come over here.”
“Please don’t get him in trouble. He’s only trying to help me.”
“We’re not going to get anyone in trouble,” Adam said. “But you owe me an explanation. I’d like to know why those men tried to kidnap me twice.”
“They must have been Uncle Nidal’s hoodlums.”
“Uncle Nidal?” Zahra said. “Is that Nidal Alawad, your stepfather?”
“Yes, to my regret.” Danyal’s voice was bitter.
“Why would your stepfather have hoodlums looking for you?” Zaid asked.
“You won’t believe it when I tell you.”
“Let us be the judge of that,” Layla said.
Running a hand over hair that looked as untamed as Adam’s, Danyal said, “My father died in a car crash two years ago. As you can imagine, it was a great blow to me and my mother. Uncle Nidal was my father’s right-hand man and was a great help to us. A year after my father’s death, Uncle Nidal asked my mother to marry him and she accepted his proposal. I didn’t have any objections. He had been divorced and we knew him well. But he changed after they were married.”
“In what way?” Zahra asked.
“He became a tyrant. He fired the servants who had been with us for years, claiming they were lazy and disloyal. He brought in new servants who took orders only from him. Little by little, we saw his true colors. He was manipulative and controlling and would go into fits of rage if we disagreed with him. We didn’t have any family we could turn to for help. Both my parents were orphans from Dar-as-Sakinah. My mother had a few friends, but she was ashamed to confide in them, so she suffered in silence.”
“Why doesn’t she divorce him?” Layla said. “She has every right.”
“I told her that once and she gave me this guilty, helpless look and said, ‘I can’t, Danyal. Please don’t ask me that again.’ I finally realized the truth after they had an argument at dinner one night. He was angry that she had donated a large sum to a charity. After she told him it was her money to do with as she liked, he smashed the crockery on the table and a piece of glass cut her on the arm. I pleaded with her to call the police, but she became hysterical. She said, ‘Do you want to see us destroyed? Don’t ever mention the police to me again.’ I knew then that he was blackmailing her in some way. In fact, I think he blackmailed her into marrying him to begin with.”
“What did you do next?” Adam asked.
“I was determined to find out what he was holding over her head. I went to search his office one night when everyone was asleep. I had just gotten there and switched on the light when I heard footsteps coming down the hall. I switched off the light and hid behind the curtains. Uncle Nidal came in and called someone on his phone. He said, ‘I don’t care how you do it. Just make sure you grab Danyal on the way to the park tomorrow afternoon.’ He listened for a minute, then said something which chilled me to the bone.”
“What did he say?” Zahra leaned forward in suspense.
“He said, ‘Kidnapping Danyal is the easy part. Making him disappear for good will be the hard part.’”
Chapter Nine:
A New Twist
“Oh my God,” Layla said. “That’s horrible. What happened next?”
“After he left the office, I hurried back to my room. All I could think about was escaping. The park he mentioned is a few minutes’ walk from my school. Three days a week, I would go there after school to play soccer. Our chauffeur would come to pick me up afterwards. I badly wanted to tell my mother what I had heard but I knew I wouldn’t get past Uncle Nidal. That’s when I decided to run away and hide.”
“What made you decide to come here?” Zaid said.
“I knew of the lake house since I used to visit the orphanage with my mother. I heard her telling someone it’s been standing empty since the last tenant died.”
“Did you also hear it had been taken over by jinns?” Layla asked.
“Yes, that’s why when I came here, I spoke aloud of my problems. I told them I’m not here to bother them, that I only wanted to share the house with them. Only Allah knows if they were here and if they heard me. I want to think that they did. And that they’re good jinns. I haven’t had any creepy episodes.”
“That’s a good thing,” Zahra said. “How did you escape from school?”
“I gathered all the money I had and packed as much clothes and toiletries that could fit into my satchel. Then…”
“Wait a moment,” Adam interrupted. “If some of your belongings were missing, wouldn’t everyone realize that you’d run away and not been kidnapped?”
Danyal smiled sadly. “I have a lot of things. Even if the servants noticed some of them missing, Uncle Nidal obviously didn’t share that with the police. It suited him to let them think I was kidnapped.”
“Your poor mother must be sick with worry,” Zahra said.
Danyal’s mouth turned down. “I wish I could have left her a message. But I couldn’t take the chance. I had to figure out a way to escape and that’s all I could think of.”
“What was your escape plan?” Adam asked.
Danyal smiled genuinely for the first time. “To disguise myself and take the bus here. At the Orphans Evening Out last year, my mother bought artificial beards and moustaches for the boys to perform a skit. I went to the storeroom and got one each. After school was dismissed the next day, I went behind the building and hid in the trees until everyone was gone. Then I pasted on the fake pieces, put my satchel into a shopping bag and took a b
us to an outdoor market at the edge of the city. I bought as much food and water as I could carry and took another bus to Sakinah. By then, it was dark, and I walked here.”
“What a day it must have been,” Zaid said.
“Yes, I collapsed right here on the sofa and slept like a log that night. The next day, I explored my new home. One of the bedrooms had a rickety bed with a mattress. There were a few chipped mugs and plates in the kitchen cupboards and a bucket in the bathroom. To my delight, I found a standpipe with running water outside. I think it’s fed by a well. I’ve heard the stories about the lake, so I wasn’t too keen on bathing there.”
“How did you and Mahmood meet?” Zahra asked.
“I decided to row over to the orphanage one night. I wanted to widen my horizon a bit. I was nervous about going on the lake, but I thought that if the jinns hadn’t bothered me in the house, they wouldn’t bother me in the canoe. When I got to the other side, I was walking through the woods when Muk-Muk sprang at me. That’s how Mahmood and I ran into each other.”
“Did he recognize you?” Layla said.
“Yes. I told him everything and he gave me a hug when I was done. Since then, I go to visit him over there, and he comes to visit me here. He always brings me stuff to eat even though I told him he doesn’t need to. I go to the village in my disguise to buy food. I get enough to last me for a few days.”
“Mahmood is no ordinary boy, that’s for sure,” Adam said.
“But Danyal, why does your stepfather want you dead?” Zahra said.
Danyal’s lips thinned. “He wants my money, what else? My father was very wealthy and as his only heir, most of his money came to me. If Uncle Nidal succeeds in murdering me, my mother will inherit, and he will be next in line to inherit from her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s planning to do away with her at some point too.”
“This is unbelievable,” Layla said.
“I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” Danyal said.
“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Layla hastened to say. “It’s such an awful story.”
“We have to find a way to help you,” Adam said. “When can we meet with you again?”
“I can come to the boathouse tomorrow night. Are you staying at the orphanage?”
“Oh, no,” Layla said. “Our parents have rented a villa close to it. We’re able to come and go by foot.”
“We’ll meet you nine-thirty,” Adam said. “We have to make sure my parents are in bed before we leave.”
“We’ll invite Heba and Mahmood to come along too,” Zaid said.
“That’s fine,” Danyal said. “But, please don’t tell anyone else I’m here. I’m sure Uncle Nidal has spies at the orphanage.”
Tired after their adventure the night before, the teenagers slept in late at Villa Wadha that morning. They set off to the orphanage a little before lunch so Adam and Zaid could speak to Mr. Mazin about Mahmood. The teenagers also planned to meet with Heba and Mahmood in the atrium after the midday prayer to update them on all that had happened last night.
Upon their arrival at the orphanage, Adam and Zaid went straight to the director’s office. They knocked on his door and he bade them enter. He was sitting in a black armchair behind a desk, working at a computer.
“Salaams. Sorry to disturb you, sir,” Adam said. “We’d like to speak with you for a few minutes, if we may.”
“Sure, have a seat.” Mr. Mazin gestured to the two brown armchairs in front of his desk before removing his reading glasses. “How can I help you?”
“We’d like to speak to you about Mahmood, sir,” Zaid said.
“What would you like to say about Mahmood?” The light coming through the window emphasized the olive tint of his skin and the silver threads in his dark hair.
“We were with Ms. Tubaa when we found Baby Lina in the cage,” Adam said. “We questioned Mahmood afterwards, asking him to nod or shake his head at our questions. From what we gathered, he found Lina in the cage when he came up to his room.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Yes, we think someone set him up, sir,” Zaid said.
Mr. Mazin blinked, the only sign that he was surprised. “Do you know who the troublemaker might be?”
“We don’t,” Zaid said. “But we firmly believe it’s not Mahmood.”
“You seem to have a high opinion of the boy on a very short acquaintance.” Adam was not sure if he heard approval or disapproval in Mr. Mazin’s voice.
“We do, sir,” Zaid replied. “We don’t think he should be punished for something he didn’t do.”
“I’ll pass on your testimony when the administration meets tomorrow night. That’s all I can tell you at this time. Was there anything else?”
Adam decided to take the bull by the horns. “Yes, sir. Heba told us about her uncle being murdered. We were shocked to hear about it.”
A nerve throbbed in Mr. Mazin’s cheek. “Yes, it was a difficult time for all of us. We’re trying to put it behind us and move on.”
“We were wondering if the police are making any progress with the investigation,” Zaid said.
Mr. Mazin frowned and said stiffly, “I’m afraid we haven’t heard anything further from the police. I have every confidence they’re doing all they can to catch Mr. Issa’s killer.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, he said, “I believe it will soon be time for lunch.”
It was a clear dismissal and the boys got to their feet and left his office.
A voice called out to them. They turned around to see Ms. Rima coming down the corridor, her platform shoes clacking on the tiles. She stopped before a door and said to the youths, “Can I see you for a minute?”
“Sure,” Adam said. He and Zaid walked to her door.
“Come inside.” She held the door open and motioned them in.
Adam took a quick look around. It was as messy as Zahra had told them.
Picking up the piles of paperwork on the two chairs in front of her desk, Ms. Rima dumped them on the ground and told the youths, “Sit.”
After they sat down, she dropped into her brown chair and shoved some papers to the side. Leaning her elbows flat on the desk, she clasper her fingers together and smiled at them. Her teeth were slightly snaggled, lending a certain charm to her smile. “I want to thank you boys for covering my art class yesterday.”
“You’re welcome,” Zaid said. “It was a nice experience.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I wanted you to know I appreciated your willingness to help. I don’t like leaving in the middle of a class, but I had to. My mom fell down the stairs and was taken to the hospital.”
“We’re sorry to hear that,” Adam said. “How is she doing?”
“Nothing broken, thank Allah. She’s home again.”
“I’m sure you must be relieved,” Zaid said.
Nodding, she tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and said, “I haven’t had a chance to look at the sketches yet. Were there many disturbing ones?”
“Yes, some of them were pretty graphic,” Adam said.
She sighed. “Poor things, they’ve had rough lives, losing everyone and everything they’ve loved and held dear. No wonder they remember the horrible things they’ve witnessed and have nightmares about them.”
“We heard that they recently lost a teacher they loved,” Zaid said. Adam could have hugged his friend for bringing Mr. Issa’s murder into the conversation.
Ms. Rima’s face became sober. “Yes, Mr. Issa’s death was a great blow.”
“It’s so awful that he was murdered,” Adam said. “Heba told us it was because of a book.”
“Yes, it’s unbelievable,” Ms. Rima said, twisting her fingers together.
“Do the police have any idea who did it?” Zaid asked.
She lifted a hand in a contemptuous gesture. “Th
e police never know anything. If you ask me, I think it’s someone from the village who’s not right in the head.”
On first sight, one might make the mistake of thinking that Ms. Rima was a ditsy woman. But beneath the artsy façade, Adam was sure she possessed sharp wits. So why was she putting forward such a lame theory that some madman must have killed Mr. Issa? Was it to throw suspicion away from herself and the others?
“We’ve got to go,” Adam said, getting to his feet. “It’s lunch time now.”
“Take care and thanks again.”
The meal hall was abuzz with conversation when the youths entered. It was the last hour of the Dar-un-Nur’s visit and everyone was making the most of it. After collecting their food boxes, Adam’s eyes went around the room as he looked for a place for them to sit. Layla and Zahra were with Heba and her friends while Mouna and the twins were eating with Bishr and Burhaan.
Zaid nudged Adam. “Look who’s sitting with your parents.”
Adam turned and blinked. It was Ms. Mahveen and Mr. Talish.
“Let’s go sit with them,” he whispered to Zaid. “It’s the perfect opportunity to ask them about the murder.”
The youths went over and greeted the adults before sitting down.
“Did you kids enjoy the activities yesterday?” Dr. Horani asked.
“Oh yes, we had a great time,” Zaid said. “We especially enjoyed the treasure game.”
“Yes, it’s everyone’s favorite part of the visit.” Ms. Mahveen smiled at them. Adam could not help remembering the conversation he and Zaid had overheard between her and Ms. Yusra.
“Were you at our quiz?” Mr. Talish asked, running his fingers over his short, clipped beard. Adam cringed when he thought how close they had come to getting caught by him at the pavilion.
“Uh…we were there for a little while,” Adam said. Like all of five minutes.
“The students do enjoy a good quiz,” Ms. Mahveen said. Her eyes were a deep black with arching eyebrows.
“Did the girls come over to lunch too?” Mrs. Horani asked the boys.