by Joy Rider
This time they drove to the downtown area, and a large imposing white building lit with floodlights. As they took her through the main doors, a crowd of people with cameras came towards her taking photos.
With great dignity, the Mutaween took her through the crowd and into the Riyadh Al Hayathim Police Station. She was processed and then locked in a small cell away from the main police station.
International exposure
Peter arrived back at his hotel and threw himself on the bed. He was tired, exhausted, and depressed. He had no idea what to do next. After a while, he got up and started up his laptop. It didn't take him long to find out what had happened to Suchin. Her story had gone viral and there were photos of her all over the Internet.
There were blurred stills and a shaky video taken with cellular phones in the market place. They showed this girl, naked except for a black veil completely covering her head and face with a slit for her eyes. A crowd of men surrounded her, jeering and touching her private parts.
This was big news. Bloggers and analysts from all over the world were discussing this mysterious girl who had appeared nude in public in Saudi Arabia, one of the most sexually repressed countries on Earth. To add to the spice, bloggers had seen the gold chains she was wearing and even the tattoos on her breasts. Everybody speculated about the meaning of the words but they were too blurred to read. This added to the furore, as there were many imaginative interpretations of the text.
Then there were more photos taken by professional reporters at a police station in Riyadh. This time the girl was wearing a dirty looking sheet as well as the niqab. The sheet was hardly large enough to cover her and the photographers had crouched low to get views of her shapely legs and thighs.
Peter rushed out of the hotel and got a cab to the police station.
Dawn was breaking, when Peter got back to his hotel. He was even more tired and dejected. The police station had been packed with news people and curious onlookers. He couldn't get anywhere near the main desk let alone try to see Suchin.
The next day, Peter read the international papers on the internet, and Suchin was displayed prominently under headings such as 'Golden Girl nude in Saudi Market'. Many of the papers had photos of Suchin in the market with hands reaching out to touch her breasts. There was a lot of interest in the blurred images of the tattoos, but so far, nobody had worked out what they said.
The papers discussed who she was, where she was from, and how she could appear naked in a marketplace covered in expensive gold chains. The sensational combination was irresistible to even the most conservative media. An unknown girl, gold chains, Saudi Arabia, tattoos, mysterious writing and above all the excuse to print photos of a girl's breasts on the front page was perfect for sell-out editions.
Then Peter read something that made his blood run cold. It said that under Sharia Law, if found guilty, the girl would most likely be stoned to death.
Peter was stunned. He knew that the religious laws in Saudi Arabia were extreme but this was crazy. They couldn’t kill Suchin. The poor girl was completely innocent. If anything, it was the fault of the bastard who organised the parties. He should be stoned to death.
He rang his friend, John, at the British Embassy. John was equally shocked and kept repeating,
“Oh what a screw up!”
He arranged to meet John over a cup of coffee in a restaurant near the embassy.
He told John that he wanted to make a statement to the police saying that the guy organising the parties had made Suchin a sex slave, and he was the one at fault. John replied that it would be very dangerous to do that as Abdul Malek was a powerful man, and Peter had crossed him enough already. If Peter tried to make a statement to the police about Malek, almost certainly it would disappear and Peter himself would probably end up in prison.
John said that Peter could go to the foreign press, which would print anything he said. Houri’s story was perfect for the sensation seeking media, as it combined nude photos, sex slavery and Sharia law, but that would just make things worse still for Houri and Peter.
John thought there were two things that Malek would want to get out of this mess. Most importantly, he would want no publicity about him and the parties. If this came out the royal family would be furious, so that he would lose his business and connections. In addition, he would want to get his gold back as it was probably worth ten thousand dollars.
Malek would probably bribe or blackmail the police and judiciary into a quick trial and execution. This would create an international furore but stop Houri from blabbing and close the incident as soon as possible. He would get his gold cut off her body before they incinerated her.
Despite himself, Peter found that tears were running down his cheeks as he exclaimed, “shit NO, SHIT they can’t do that!!”
People were turning to look and John said quietly “calm down and for heaven's sake be quiet. There may be a way out of it.”
“I think we have to go to Malek with a bit of carrot and stick. We will tell him that, if he can get her off the charges and out of the country, we will buy her from him. You will have to offer him a fair amount of money, as he is already rich. You can afford it can you?”
“I don’t know. How much should we offer him?”
“I think $20,000 to $30,000 maybe more.”
“That’s OK don’t worry, I can come up with up to $100,000 no worries.”
John smiled “Good. You must love her very much.”
“Now for the stick part. We tell him. Well you tell him, I don’t want to be involved in this. You tell him that you have written a letter to the international media explaining what happened to Houri and how she was kept as a sex slave by Malek, as entertainment for his parties. You have sent this to Australia to be opened in the event of either your or Houri's disappearance, imprisonment, or death. That should give him a big incentive to get Houri off.”
“Yeah well, I will write that letter. I just hope it works.”
Back in his hotel Peter wrote the letter and posted a sealed copy to his sister in Australia with instructions not to open unless he disappeared, died or went to prison. He told her not to be alarmed and that it was only a precaution to protect himself. He knew he could trust her.
John got an appointment with Malek for him and he went by taxi to the house.
The guards at the gate were definitely unfriendly to Peter, especially the one that Peter had knocked over in the market. They took Peter inside and locked the gate behind them. One on each side they held his arms in painful grips as they took him through the house to Malek’s study.
Malek was not unfriendly, and Peter thought that the man was cautious, cunning, and slippery. Peter was very polite and told him he wanted to rescue Houri and get her out of the country. Malek replied
“It would be very difficult; there has been so much international publicity.”
Peter pulled some sheets of paper from his pocket and gave it to Malek.
“If Houri is executed this goes to Wikileaks and a friend has a copy in Australia which will go to the media if anything happens to me. Do you understand?”
Malek read the letter and then sighed, murmuring “Yes I understand.”
“It will be very expensive,” he said.
“How much?” Peter replied.
“At least 50,000 dollars”
“I have 20,000 I can let you have when I get Houri out of Saudi Arabia.”
“Oh no my friend the money has to be up front, I will agree to 40,000 dollars”
After more haggling, they agreed to $20,000 paid up front and $20,000 on delivery of Houri with a valid passport.
Peter had the money transferred to Saudi Arabia and the next day, he picked up $20,000 and took it to Malek. He asked for a receipt, but Malek just laughed and said
“We don’t do receipts in Saudi Arabia.”
Denouement
In his room he scanned the Internet for reports of the “Golden Girl’ and was shocked to see photos of Suc
hin obviously taken by a professional photographer. They were in a German men’s magazine and had been taken by a paparazzi who must have bribed his way into her police cell.
In all of them her head and face were still covered while her body was fully exposed. There were close-ups of her breasts and all the tattoos. She had been made to bend over so that the writing on her bottom was showing and her pink anus. Worst was the close-ups of her labia, first with a pink ribbon, which was slowly undone in a series of photos which ended is a very explicit photograph of Suchin’s vagina.
Like the amateur videos in the market, the photos had gone viral and had been reproduced millions of time. The blogs were full of discussions about the tattoos now that they could be read. Some reports were wildly inaccurate, but some reporters had found the biker gang and even interviewed members.
Other reports said that her trial would be held the following Monday and that if she was found guilty she would be stoned to death the next day. The general assumption was that the trial was a minor formality and her execution was inevitable.
Up to that time, Peter had thought that Suchin was being tried for prostitution and he was surprised to learn that she was charged with Witchcraft. He couldn’t understand this. Reading more reports, he discovered that the men in the market place were claiming that she appeared naked out of the sky and that the gold rings and chains, combined with the tattoos were associated with witchcraft in Saudi Arabia.
Of course Amnesty International and other organisations were shrill in their condemnation of this rough justice, but Muslim nations were equally vehement in defending Sharia Law and pointing out that it was decreed by Allah. They all seemed to have lost sight that it a real person was going to be stoned to death and that she was innocent.
The day of the trial came and Peter had still not heard from Malek. He had been to his house several times but found the gate locked. John told him that Malek was not returning his calls.
When Peter arrived at the courthouse, it was jammed with foreign media and spectators. He had grown accustomed to business practices in Saudi Arabia and previously bribed his way in to a seat.
Suchin was in the dock; at least he thought it must be her although the only thing he could see was a shape covered in black cloth. He didn’t understand a word of the proceedings, which only took two hours. At one point, a prison officer opened up Suchin’s gown and exposed her naked body to the court. The crowd gasped at the sight of her breasts, tattoos, and chains.
Later he asked John how it was that a conservative country that did not allow women to expose an ankle could expose a prisoner’s naked body in open court.
“Because she is a prostitute of course and has no rights under law. No man has come forward to claim her so she is just a worthless chattel. I expect she has been frequently fucked while in custody as she has no rights and it is incumbent on men to humiliate her. I suppose that was no hardship to her as she must be used to fucking by now.”
He grinned and then seeing Peter’s face added quickly “No offence old chap. You know how it is. No point in denying the bloody obvious. I forgot she was your girlfriend. Let's hope that Malek can come up with something, although its not looking too good is it.”
After the trial, Peter still had no idea what the verdict was until he opened Twitter and read the tweets. They were all about the Golden Girl found guilty and that she was to be stoned on Tuesday. There were even some images of Suchin’s body exposed in court.
Peter didn’t sleep at all that night. He kept trying to contact Malek with no luck. He bought some whisky on the black market and the day of the execution, he got drunk early in the morning.
He still made his way to the stoning ground. It was packed out and he couldn’t get close to the cleared space in the centre. Not that he wanted to be that close.
He would have liked to at least have said goodbye and sorry to Suchin. Not that there was anything to say to her which would be meaningful, except perhaps that he loved her.
There was a hole dug in the middle of the cleared area and many men wearing robes and headdresses were milling around. Somebody gabbled in Arabic on the loudspeakers. Then a murmur went through the crowd as a woman dressed in white from head to toe was dragged into the killing place.
The crowd were angry with her and shouted at her. The woman cringed at their insults and from punches that some of the men in the crowd gave her. She had her hands tied behind her back so she could not defend herself. In the centre of the arena, she was roughly pushed into the hole. The sides of the hole came up to her chest and she didn’t struggle when they started filling it up. Her head was bowed and Peter thought that she was probably crying. He was. Tears were streaming down his face.
Suddenly the gabble on the speakers stopped and the crowd went silent. One of the men bent over Suchin and pulled the headdress off to reveal her face and jet black hair. Even at a distance, Peter knew it was Suchin.
The men stood back and picked up stones piled neatly around the clearing. The voice over the speakers said something else and then the men started to throw the stones at Suchin. It was horrible. Peter tried to turn away, but he couldn’t stop looking at the hideous scene.
At first the stones missed but then as the men got their aim in one hit her on the shoulder and even Peter heard he scream of pain. Then a stone hit her pretty face and her nose smashed in with blood spurting over the white gown. More stone struck her body and face. It was almost as though they were aiming for her face and the stones had been chosen carefully so as not to kill her…….quickly.
Soon Suchin’s face was unrecognisable just a bloody pulp of smashed flesh. Bone was sticking out from near her eye socket and her mouth was torn open to show her teeth. A stone hit her in the mouth and some of her teeth broke off, so that she looked like some hideous smiling ghoul.
It took 30 minutes of agony for Suchin to die.
At the end, Peter stumbled from the crowd and wandered deliriously through the streets. He went into a high-rise building and tried to get on to the roof with a vague idea that he would jump. The doors were all locked and the windows in the offices did not open.
He had to have alcohol so he went back to his hotel and drank whisky until he passed out on the floor.
He woke to daylight streaming through his hotel window. He had a raging hangover. His head was throbbing with hammering pain. His mouth was dry and he could taste the remains of vomit. He was so thirsty, he had to have water.
After some coffee and bottled water out of the fridge he felt little better. He was so angry. He was furious with the goddam country and their stupid religion. Most of all he was angry with Malek who had taken his money and let Suchin die.
He would pay the bastard back by letting the whole world known about his revolting parties and sex slaves.
He arrived at Malek’s house unshaven still wearing vomit stained clothes from the previous day. On the way, he had stopped at a hardware store and bought a huge sledgehammer to break down the gate. He paid the taxi and lugged the hammer out. Turning to face the gate, he saw a black face with smiling white teeth looking at him through the bars.
“Good morning Sir. What do you need that hammer for Sir?” The guard said and opened the gate for Peter who barged in still carrying the hammer. He was blind with rage at the way the guard was so happy to know that Suchin was dead.
The guard deftly dodged a blow from the hammer that would have killed him if he hadn’t moved. Peter’s reactions were slowed by the residual alcohol and the other guard managed to grab the hammer and take it off him.
Still smiling they frogmarched Peter to Malek’s office.
Malek was sitting in his padded leather chair and smiled slimily at Peter.
“Ah Mister Russel, we were expecting you. Have you got my money?”
Peter was incoherent with rage.
“You fuckin bastard low life cunt wog I am going to kill you….” He blurted out followed by
“Where’s my money? I want my
fucking money back.”
Malek was serious now “I thought you wanted this” he gestured to one of the guards who opened a side door and brought out a lady wearing the traditional black robes from head to foot.
Peter was confused “Wa…what?”
The woman took off her headdress and it was Suchin smiling at him with that same lovely smile he had seen the day he met her. Then she rushed at him and kissed him over and over again.
Peter was bewildered but happier than he could remember. “Such…chin” he stuttered between kisses. He held her back to look. Her face was as pretty as ever showing no signs of the cruel stones. He thought, this is magic, maybe she was a witch after all.
Malek brought him back to the present asking, “Where is my money?”
“I didn’t bring it” Peter stuttered “but I will go and get it.” He added quickly.
“When I have it you can have Houri and this” Malek showed him a black covered passport. “I have booked flights for you this afternoon, but of course you will have to pay for the tickets when you get to the airport. I suggest that you get out of Saudi Arabia as soon as you can and never come back. In case you decide to publish your story, I should warn you that I have many lovely videos of your girlfriend having all sorts of perverse sex with different men. I don’t think you would want these on the Internet would you?”
“No. That’s cool” said Peter “Mum's the word.”
They arrived in Bangkok airport that evening and booked in at a hotel until the morning flight to Udon Thani, on their way back to Suchin’s village.
They didn’t have sex that night, or for many nights, as Suchin seemed traumatised. He made her let him examine her body though. He could see the holes in her nipples and labia for the rings but all the gold had gone. Other than that, she seemed as good as she had ever been. The tattoos were still there but he could live with that. They would both have to live with it and their memories.