by Farah Zaman
“Poor man,” Adam said. “How awful to have his whole livelihood stolen from him.”
Zaid picked up the second clipping. “This one is dated March 15 of the same year and the headline is, No Trace Found of Stolen Jewelry from Zuleikha’s. It has now been almost two months since thieves cleaned out the well-known jewelry store, Zuleikha’s, forcing it to close down. The Tri-Country Bureau of Inquiries have been unable to find the perpetrators or any trace of the stolen jewelry. The consensus is that the purloined valuables have been cleverly hidden, to be retrieved at some point in the future. Mr. Maniyar, the owner of Zuleikha’s, stated that there are no plans to reopen the store unless the jewelry is recovered. He says he does not hold out much hope. The three men and two women who worked in the store are all looking for new jobs. When asked if he would hire them again if his jewelry was found, he said absolutely. Meanwhile, the TCBI stated that the investigation is still ongoing.”
Zahra reached for the third clipping. “My clipping is dated June fifth, same year. The headline says, Notorious thief suspected of Jewelry Heist at Zuleikha’s. The Tri-Country Bureau of Inquiries have issued a shocking statement about the robbery that took place at Zuleikha’s in January of this year. They indicated that the notorious thief, Al-Maha, was behind the daring heist.
“Al-Maha,” Adam exclaimed. “Doesn’t that mean the Oryx?”
“It certainly does,” Zaid said. “One more strange coincidence to add to the list.”
“Go on, Zahra,” Layla said. “Let’s see what the rest of the clipping says.”
Zahra continued, “The infamous thief first came to the attention of the TCBI six years ago after the theft of a golden oryx from the Gilad Museum. Since then, he’s been using the moniker Al-Maha and leaving the symbol of an oryx as his calling card after a robbery. The slippery thief has always managed to elude the authorities. The TCBI stated that Al-Maha could be a neighbor, a friend, or an employee. When asked why they suspected him of the robbery, a spokesperson stated that they received a surprising confession letter from the robber himself. In the letter, Al-Maha claimed that he was sorry for the robbery and that the stolen jewelry would be returned to its rightful owners within the next two months. Mr. Maniyar, the owner of Zuleikha’s, thinks the letter is a fake. He stated that there is no honor among thieves and Al-Maha ’s confession is probably an elaborate hoax. The TCBI had no comment other than to say that they will see what happens within the next two months.”
“A notorious thief confessing to a robbery?” Zaid said. “Someone must have been playing a practical joke.”
“Let’s see what this last clipping says,” Adam said. “The date is August 15, same year. The title is, Stolen Jewelry from Zuleikha’s remains Missing. It has now been two months since the Tri-Country Bureau of Inquiries received a letter of confession from someone claiming to be Al-Maha. In the letter, the notorious thief claimed responsibility for the heist although he had not left his customary calling card at the scene. He indicated that the jewelry would be returned to its owner within two months. Two months have come and gone and there has been no further communication from Al-Maha, nor has the stolen jewelry been recovered. The TCBI has issued another statement saying that in all likelihood, the letter was a hoax. Mr. Maniyar, the owner of Zuleikha’s, has lost all hope of ever recovering his property. He said that the robber will never prosper from his foul deed and his reckoning will come soon enough. The TCBI indicated that the case remains open.” Adam came to the end and lowered the clipping onto the rest of the pile.
“Poor Mr. Maniyar,” Layla said. “What an awful thing to happen to him and his family.”
“The question is, why did Danyal’s stepfather have these clippings in the drawer?” Zaid said.
“It seems like he had a personal interest in the robbery,” Zahra said.
“We’ll ask Danyal if he knows why when we see him tomorrow night,” Adam said.
When Heba and Mahmood showed up at the boathouse the next night, Adam knew at once something was wrong. They came slowly into the ramshackle building, Heba’s face solemn and Mahmood’s mouth turned down. Even Muk-Muk had a chastened look on his wrinkled little face. A feeling of dread came over Adam.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Heba sighed. “Mahmood and Muk-Muk are in trouble again.”
Mahmood made a mournful sound.
“What happened?” Layla asked.
“Muk-Muk escaped out of the room last night when we were at the Orphans Evening Out. He went on a snatching spree through the dorms on the fourth floor. He hid away a lot of small items, tore pages out of books and scattered clothes from drawers. The students are furious.”
Mahmood made another pitiful sound. Muk-Muk whined, sensing his master’s distress.
“How was Muk-Muk able to escape from the room?” Zaid said. “Wasn’t he in the cage?”
Mahmood shook his head and grunted.
Heba explained, “Mahmood left him in the room, not the cage. The little fellow opened it somehow and escaped. Or maybe the door hadn’t been closed properly. Whatever it is, he got out.”
“What items are missing?” Zahra asked.
“Caps, combs, scented oil, socks, and other little things. I have a feeling there will be more as the days go by.”
“But where could Muk-Muk have hidden all that stuff?” Zahra said.
Mahmood made a despairing sound.
“We have no idea,” Heba said. “The boys searched everywhere in the dorms but couldn’t find their belongings. Ms. Yusra and Mr. Rakin, who stay in on the weekends, scolded Mahmood. I’m worried what the administration will do when they hear about it.”
“Let’s hope they’ll be fair to Mahmood,” Adam said. “They can’t blame him for Muk-Muk’s mischief.”
“Poor Mahmood,” Layla said, giving the boy’s arm a sympathetic pat. “You get bullied by the Troublesome Trio and now this.”
“For a moment, I thought the Troublesome Trio had hit Mahmood again,” Adam said. He told them of his and Zaid’s encounter with the Troublesome Trio in the bathroom on Wednesday morning and Haysam’s threat.
“I think it’s an empty threat,” Heba said. “They wouldn’t dare to hit him again. Or they’ll get another painful punishment.”
“So how did things go last night at the dinner?” Danyal asked.
He was hungry for details and asked many questions of the teenagers. After they had finished answering, Adam and Zaid then gave him a blow by blow account of the search in his stepfather’s office.
“Let’s see those clippings,” Danyal said when they were done.
Using the flashlight, he and Heba read the articles. After finishing them, Danyal said, “I remember when the robbery happened but I don’t know why Uncle Nidal would have these clippings.”
“I think there’s some connection,” Zaid said. “They wouldn’t have been sitting in his drawer for no reason.”
“If I think of anything, I’ll let you know,” Danyal promised.
“Anyone have anything else to say before we wrap up here?” Adam asked.
“Yes, I found out why Mr. Talish has been going to the pavilion,” Heba said. “He’s been going there to smoke a hookah.”
“A hookah?” Layla said. “His voice does sound like he smokes.”
“How did you find out, Heba?” Zahra asked.
“Late this afternoon, I saw him hurrying to the back. I wondered if he was going to the pavilion to meet the man Adam and Zaid had seen there. I decided to follow him. When he got there, the man was waiting for him with the hookah.”
“That’s a great piece of detective work,” Zaid said. “At least, we can cross that mystery off our list. I started our log of clues today.” He pulled out a short, square notebook from his pocket. “I’ll read what I have so far. If I’ve left out anything, let me know.”
He spe
nt a few minutes reading through the information they had gathered.
“I think you’ve covered everything,” Adam said. “I can’t think of anything else.”
“Just guard the book with your life,” Layla kidded. “And don’t ever take it to the orphanage. If it falls into the wrong hands, we’ll be banished.”
“We have four more offices to search,” Zaid said. “Ms. Tubaa’s, Ms. Mahveen’s, Mr. Talish’s and Mr. Rakin’s. I’m sure we’ll have a lot more clues to add to the log.”
“I think we need to do something more daring for faster results,” Adam said. “I really want us to help Heba before we leave. There’s no guarantee the police will accept the clues we give them.”
“What do you have in mind?” Heba asked.
“We must search the administration’s chambers upstairs.”
Chapter Seventeen:
A Daring Plan
“That’s daring indeed,” Zaid said.
“How will we get into their chambers?” Layla asked. “Don’t they keep them locked?”
Heba exhaled a breath. “Housekeeping has duplicate keys just like those of the offices. I can get them for you.” Her voice was slightly unsteady.
“Do we have to search there?” Zahra said, sounding worried. “I don’t like the idea of poking around in their private chambers. If we’re caught, it would be beyond embarrassing.”
“Plus, my parents would skin our hides,” Adam said. “But we’ve got to take the risk. If our murderer is hiding something, it would be in his or her chamber.”
“When will we search?” Layla asked.
“Tomorrow night will be the best time,” Heba said. “Only Ms. Yusra and Mr. Rakin are here on the weekends since they’re the dorm mother and father. The rest of the administration will return on Sunday morning.”
“Don’t Ms. Yusra and Mr. Rakin get a break at all?” Zaid asked.
“Yes, Ms. Mahveen and Mr. Talish cover for them one Saturday a month. If I get the keys, what time will you come tomorrow night?”
“About nine,” Adam said. “We’ll use my parents’ key to get in at the front door.”
“I’ll wait for you in the library,” Heba said.
It was closer to nine-thirty the next night when the teenagers met up with Heba in the library. They had a hard time getting away from Villa Wadha. First, Hassan and Hakeem wanted Adam and Layla to read them a story instead of Mouna.
“She reads funny,” Hassan said. “We can’t understand her.”
“It’s more fun when you read to us,” Hakeem said. “Please, please, just one story.”
After Adam and Layla took turns reading a few chapters from Diary of a Wimpy Kid, the teenagers crept down the stairs but were foiled again from leaving. Dr. and Mrs. Horani were cuddled together on the sofa, watching a movie. The teenagers twiddled their thumbs for the next fifteen minutes until the movie finished. They hustled out as soon as the door of Dr. and Mrs. Horani’s suite slammed shut.
Out of breath, they arrived at the library to find Heba pacing the floor. “There you are,” she said when she saw them. “I thought you’d changed your minds.”
“Sorry, we got delayed,” Adam said. “You’ve got the keys?”
“Yes.” Heba jangled the bunch in her pocket.
“Let’s draw lots to see who’ll search where,” Zahra said. “Since there are five of us and four rooms to search, Zaid and I will team up.”
“The two of you can search Ms. Mahveen’s and Mr. Talish’s room,” Heba said.
After the lots were drawn, Layla made a face. “I’ve got Ms. Tubaa’s room.”
“Mine is Ms. Rima’s,” Heba said.
“I’ve drawn Mr. Mazin’s,” Adam said. “Let’s go.”
Leaving the library, they headed in the direction of the prayer hall and event room. At the very end of that corridor was the door that held the stairway to the administration’s chambers on the second floor. As they approached it, a tapping sound came to their ears.
“What’s that?” Zahra whispered.
“Someone’s coming down the stairs,” Zaid said.
“Oh, no, we have to hide.” Heba rushed away from the door. She opened the next one along the corridor. It was a utility closet. They hurried inside. Adam went in last, squeezing himself to fit. He left the door open a crack and peered out as a figure emerged and walked past them. In the dim light, he recognized Ms. Yusra. He watched until she turned into the main corridor and strode from sight.
Adam opened the door and stepped out of the hot, poky closet. “Whew! That was close.”
“Who was it?” Layla asked.
“Ms. Yusra.”
“I thought she had her own room in the girls’ dorms,” Zahra said.
“She does,” Heba said.
“Then what was she doing up there?” Zaid said.
Heba sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Are you sure the others are gone?” Adam asked.
“Yes, I saw them all leave.”
“Let’s hope Ms. Yusra doesn’t come back,” Layla said.
“We’d better get moving then,” Zahra said.
They turned on their cell phone flashlights as they climbed up the dark stairwell and entered the long corridor to the administration’s quarters. Mr. Mazin’s door was the middle one on the right. Heba unlocked it and Adam slinked in.
Turning on the light, he locked the door before surveying his surroundings. He would first search the little sitting room he was standing in. Going over to the cupboard in the corner, he opened it and went through the shelves. A photograph of Mr. Mazin, a woman in hijab and niqab - the face veil – and two teenage children, caught his eyes. He studied it, wondering if a family man and a man of faith to boot, could be a murderer.
“Appearances can be deceptive,” he muttered. “It’s a lesson we’ve learned well after our previous adventures.”
Closing the cupboard, Adam went over to the desk. He turned on the computer, but it requested a password. He had expected that. Shutting it down, he searched through the desk. After that he checked beneath the cushions of the two blue couches and crouched down to peer under the couches themselves. Rising to his feet, he moved over to the crammed bookshelf. There were several volumes of religious texts, three mushafs and a good number of self-help books.
“Nothing so far,” he muttered.
Adam took a deep breath and steeled himself to search the bedchamber beyond. He pushed open the door and peered for the light switch. Flicking it on, he glanced into the attached bathroom on the left before tackling the chest of drawers first. Moving the neatly folded clothes aside, he felt around to make sure nothing was hidden among them. He looked up at the white walls. They were bare of any shelves.
He was about to search under the mattress when he heard footsteps outside. Was it one of the others? No, the tread was too heavy. He froze when the feet stopped outside Mr. Mazin’s door. Then came the scratch of a key being inserted in the lock. Adam’s heart gave a sickening plunge. Oh, no. Mr. Mazin must have come back. I’m going to get caught red-handed.
Panic sent him flying into action. Switching off the light, he dived under the bed just as the door swung open. He curled up in the fetal position, his heart hammering like it would break out of his chest. Would Mr. Mazin become suspicious to find the light on in his sitting room? There were no exclamations of surprise so perhaps he was not. Ms. Tubaa said he sometimes forgets to lock his office door. Maybe he also forgets to turn off the light.
Feet shuffled across the floor. A chair creaked. Fingers tapped on a keyboard. A dry cough. More tapping. Another dry cough. Had the others heard Mr. Mazin returning? If not, they would come looking for Adam when he did not show up. Then all hell would break loose. Adam’s heartbeat accelerated like a race car speeding down the track.
As the minutes moved by in slow moti
on, he concluded that the others must have heard Mr. Mazin coming back. Otherwise they would have been at the door by now. At least, he did not have to worry about them barging in. He unclenched his jaw and breathed deeply. How long would he have to stay in hiding? Would Mr. Mazin go to bed when he stopped working at his computer?
Adam would be able to leave only after Mr. Mazin had fallen asleep. Actually, no. If Mr. Mazin went to the bathroom, Adam could escape easily then. But the man continued to plod away at the computer. What was he working on? Was that why he had returned? Could it not have waited until tomorrow? Adam took another deep breath, easing the stiffness from his limbs. Then his blood froze in his veins. The dust he had inhaled at the bottom of the bed now tickled his nose. A sneeze was building. Oh, no. He pinched his nose, managing to hold it back. How long before it burst out?
The chair creaked. Footsteps moved across the floor. Adam became as still as a statue. The light came on in the bedchamber. Mr. Mazin walked to the bed. The mattress sagged and clothing rustled. To Adam’s horror, his nose tickled again. He clamped his nostrils closed, opening his mouth wide to breathe. Mr. Mazin got up from the bed. Please Allah, let him go to the bathroom so I can escape. A door opened and closed gently. Then came the sound of running water. Yes!
Adam’s nose tickled again. He had to get out before that sneeze escaped. Desperately, he slid out from his dusty hiding place. Running from the bedchamber and sitting room, he closed the door softly behind him. Then he rushed towards the end of the corridor. He barely made it before he sneezed like a volcano erupting.