Wading Into Murder (20 page)

This was a place where thinkers gathered and people argued freely, where social policy was debated and political decisions might even be made, Laura mused, and felt her senses quicken. Eyes, ears and nostrils were deluged - by the titillating scents emanating from the kitchen, by the flickering light that shadowed faces of every color and the muted medley of tongues that made her realize how marvelously diverse the world really was. She soaked it all in, glad she was here. The food, when it arrived, was equally spicy and satisfying, and so was the pleasant if slightly green wine that came with it.

When they had finished and paid the bill, they decided to walk at least part of the way back to the hotel.

“It will settle our stomachs after all that spicy food as well as clearing our brains,” Violet remarked.

“Mine just feels heavier than ever,” Laura complained.

“A brisk walk cures all ills,” Lady Longtree said judiciously, but Laura saw that her blue eyes were twinkling. The food, or perhaps it was the wine, had lightened all their moods. The worry lines had left Violet’s face, and Lady Longtree looked more relaxed.

They were about half way back to the hotel when a van slid up beside them. To Laura’s dismay, two large men emerged from the van and approached them. She braced herself. Was she going to be abducted all over again?

The men came close, too close it seemed to Laura. “You will come with us,” one of them said in stilted English. It wasn’t a question; it was a command. Oddly, though, he didn’t look threatening, only determined.

The other man gestured toward the van. “It would be better if you came quietly,” he said in the same stilted English.

 “The Lady wishes to see you,” the first man added. Laura saw Violet and Lady Longtree exchange a guarded glance.

“Hurry,” the man urged. “You must hurry.” He sounded almost desperate, and Laura frowned. What kind of abduction was this?

Violet hesitated for a moment and then nodded. The two men herded them gently but definitely toward the van, as if making sure none of them tried to escape. At least she didn’t feel a gun at her back, Laura thought. That was an improvement.

“Sorry to involve you,” Violet murmured to Laura. “I think they want all of us.”

“The Lady wishes to see all of you,” the man behind Laura confirmed.

Numbly, she followed the others to the van. The only lady she could think of besides Lady Longtree was the icy lady she had heard in the cellar. She hadn’t liked the sound of her voice and she had no desire to meet her. Terror swept through her and then dissipated. Violet didn’t look frightened or even alarmed, nor did Lady Longtree. Instead she looked as if she had suddenly frozen. Her face was deathly pale, her expression one of mixed dread and anticipation. What
was
going on?

The seats in the van had been rearranged so that they faced each other across a small space. Laura paused in surprise as she stepped in. A woman swathed all in black sat on one of the seats. A chador, the Muslim head scarf that hid the face completely except for a small rectangle of woven fabric that permitted the wearer to see, covered her head. Her eyes were downcast.

Violet took the seat beside the veiled woman, Lady Longtree sat opposite her and Laura sat down beside Lady Longtree.

The two men climbed into the front seats and the van slid away from the curb. The windows had been darkened, Laura saw, and began to be frightened again. The icy lady could easily be hiding under that chador.

She looked at the other two in alarm. Violet was watching Lady Longtree and her face held an expression Laura couldn’t define, except that she thought it was something between pity and apprehension.

She turned toward Lady Longtree, wondering if she knew what was going on and saw that she still wore that frozen look. Surprisingly though, it wasn’t dread on her face now as much as… as what? Hope?

The woman across from them raised her face and looked directly at Lady Longtree. Her eyes weren’t dark as Laura had expected, but bright blue. They were misted with tears.

And then, suddenly, Lady Longtree’s face crumpled. “Maria,” she whispered. “Maria, is it really you?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Oui, Maman, c’est moi,” the woman whispered, holding out a tentative hand. Then her restraint slid away, and she leaned over and clasped Lady Longtree in her arms. Laura felt tears slide down her face. This must be the lost granddaughter, the one who had married so young and disappeared, had been thought dead.

As ever, there were more facets to the old lady than a chameleon, she reflected. Who could ever have imagined her weeping unrestrainedly?

“William!” Maria whispered suddenly. “Is William really all right? I see the reviews but now he seems not to be playing…”

As if aware of their Lady’s need for privacy, the men in the front seat turned on a radio. “Merci,” she called to them in an almost steady voice.

“William is all right,” Lady Longtree assured her quickly. “He misses you and is desperate to find you but he doesn’t believe you are dead. He said he would know if you were. He isn’t playing because… well, he became distracted when we decided to try to find you ourselves. Oh, Maria, I have been so afraid…”

Maria’s face was tragic. “I am so terribly sorry I couldn’t contact you before. So many people might have suffered, even been killed, but it was hard to wait, knowing how anxious you were. And then they told me, my fine helpers up there, that you were in the restaurant with only the two others and it was suddenly right, an opportunity sent by heaven if there is one in this terrible world.”

Lady Longtree raised her wet eyes to Violet’s face. “Heaven sent or Violet arranged?” she asked skeptically.

“A little of both,” Violet admitted modestly. “I had information that the restaurant was a place where people from many countries gathered and where news of our presence might spread. I thought if we went there a few times, word would get around, if what I hoped was true. I certainly didn’t expect such a fast response.”

Lady Longtree’s eyes were suddenly suspicious. “But did you know all along that she was alive and not tell me?”

Violet stared at her, appalled. “Good heavens, no. You mustn’t think that! I thought she could be alive, from evidence we had collected but I had no idea if I was right until I saw… Well, I saw that you knew who she was.”

Maria looked about to weep again but stopped herself quickly. Abruptly, she pulled off the chador and threw it on the floor with a disdainful gesture, revealing a mop of short dark curls and a heart-shaped face with an exceedingly determined chin. She made Laura think of a very young Lady Longtree.

Then she noticed the jagged scar on one cheek. Lady Longtree saw it too and gasped. “Who did that to you?” she demanded, sounding ready to tackle the guilty person without delay.

“My father in law’s second wife,” Maria said blandly. “That is, I suspect she talked one of her sister’s sons into doing it. An accident of course.

“Not Hassan, if that’s what you are thinking.”

Lady Longtree shook her head. “No. I never thought that of him. Now, tell us where you have been and what has happened.”

“Yes. We must be sensible and talk.” Maria gestured toward the front of the van. “The men know very little about me except what I am in this country to do. It is best if they don’t know who my relatives are. We never know when one of them might be taken by someone who wants to do us harm.”

Lady Longtree nodded. “But does that mean you will leave again?” Her face was suddenly agonized.

“No, Maman, it does not,” Maria stated firmly. “I have no plans to leave. There is too much work to be done here, to help the women, the girl babies. I must tell you all about it but first, I need to know if everyone is all right. How is Grandmere?”

Lady Longtree sighed with relief. “Grandmere is fine,” she replied. “Mais je suis Grandmere maintenant,” she added with an unexpected chuckle. “C’est une jolie disguise, n’est-ce-pas? J’aime beaucoup les chapeaus magnifique! Aussi le parasol.” She brandished that object discreetly, while pointing to her hat, this one a less flamboyant affair in deep blue.

Maria burst into laughter. “Superb,” she exclaimed. “How like you to think of that, Maman. Better than this ghastly thing,” she added, pointing to the discarded chador. “Still, it’s a great way to avoid being seen.

“Some women I know wear it by choice when they go out,” she added. “They say it protects them, but what I want to fix is the fact that they have to be protected in the first place. There’s a long way to go.” She shrugged philosophically.

“Now, on to business. We don’t have much time.”

She turned to Laura. “You have been a great help to us, and all of us wish to extend our thanks.”

Laura stared at her in surprise. “I have? But what did I do?”

“You rescued two of our babies,” Maria explained. “From our competitors, if I can dignify the people involved with that name. We are very grateful.

“In addition, we are aware of your research, and that has been an enormous help. We give your articles to potential contributors to bring them up to date on what is really happening to women and girls in Muslim countries. Every voice we can use on behalf of our cause makes a difference. Money is important, too, and your articles often convince people to help us financially.”

“I am grateful to you, too,” she said, addressing Violet this time. “I have heard about why you are here and I believe we must exchange information. I will tell you what I am here to do first and why, beginning with a brief history of my time in Saudi Arabia. Then I would like to hear your part in this effort.”

Laura was impressed. Maria sounded as efficient and organized as Lady Longtree at her best, not at her vaguest.

“I left for Saudi Arabia with my husband, Hassan, four years ago,” Maria began. “We were very happy at first, but then I began to realize that his relatives were plotting against me. They are conservative people who live by the old traditions. They don’t countenance women’s participation in political affairs, and as you know, Maman, I was always political. They tried to enforce their ways on me, telling me I must not go outside without a male escort and all the rest of it, but I resisted. Hassan supported me so there was little they could do, overtly at any rate.

“Then I became pregnant. I thought at first they would be pleased but instead they were more threatened. They didn’t want a woman like me to bear Hassan’s son, the man who would one day take his place and the place of his father. And so they went on a campaign to discredit me and even to make me ugly.” She pointed to the scar. “The baby was a girl - yes, Maman, little Olivia is alive and well, and I hope you will see her soon. I thought the fact that she wasn’t a boy would relieve their minds. It didn’t. What they saw was that Hassan still…”

Her voice broke but she went on quickly with a determined thrust of her chin. “They saw that Hassan still loved me and that I would probably have more of his children. They had another wife picked out for Hassan from the beginning, and were angry because he defied them by marrying me. They pressed him to take this woman as his second wife, perhaps hoping she would be the first to bear a son. He refused, which cost them a lot of face. Then, and this was what drove me away, they began to try to influence my daughter, to instruct her on the proper role for a woman. They even planned for her to be…”

Maria’s composure broke again and she looked down at the floor until she had controlled her voice. “They were going to circumcise her,” she whispered, “to do it when Hassan and I were away on a trip together. I only learned of it because my maid spoke of it to one of the other maids and I overheard. It was just chance that I found out, that it wasn’t done…”

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again Laura saw that they were as hard and unforgiving as Lady Longtree’s eyes could be. “I knew then that I had to leave, and take my daughter with me,” Maria said flatly. “Hassan agreed, and he helped me to plan it. So did two of his brothers. The others are loyal to – or afraid of - their father, who is an obsessive tyrant.

“And so I left. I think Hassan will follow but I cannot tell. He is the oldest son and he is torn. He believes that his family and all the families who still live by the old ways - the subservience of woman, the unthinking loyalty to corrupt politicians and the terrible treatment of the poor - must change, and that he must lead the way. Many people in the country support his ideas, so perhaps Hassan can help to bring about change if he stays. I don’t know. I will wait. He knows, though, that I won’t come back.”

Maria stopped. Her eyes were tragic again, but she didn’t allow herself to sink into self-pity. “He knows, too, how much of the mutilation still goes on in these old families. Some of them still believe that a woman’s character will be destroyed if she experiences sensual pleasure.”

She shook her head in exasperation. “I thought the Adam and Eve story was bad enough, but what some of those so-called aristocrats have to say about women’s inherently evil nature puts Eve to shame.”

Maria laughed shakily. “So you see, Maman, I haven’t changed very much. “She leads with her chin,” Grandmere always used to say. “When she sticks it too far out, she gets in trouble.”

Lady Longtree regarded her fondly. “No, you haven’t changed. But your life certainly has.”

“In some ways,” Maria agreed. “In others, it is the same. I always did want to right the wrongs I saw around me, and I still do. That is the reason I am here now. I can provide information about the organization I believe Violet is investigating. You must know its purpose and its origins if you are to fight it. Briefly, my father-in-law and his friends created this appalling plan, and they started it because of me. That is why I must stop them.”

Violet sat up straight. “Thank you,” she said fervently. “That is information I badly needed. But why do you say they started it because of you?”

”My husband’s family was mortified by my rejection of their ways, and by my disappearance,” Maria explained. “It was like a slap in the face. The family honor had been sullied, and action had to be taken to prevent such betrayals in the future. So my father-in-law and a few other wealthy and powerful men – I cannot emphasize too much how rich and powerful they are - decided to make sure that a suitable pool of women was available for their other sons and the sons of those sons.

Her voice hardened. “And so they decided to buy girl babies of Muslim origin in the U.K. and elsewhere, have them circumcised, and then raise them in their own households to become proper wives for their sons in the future. There would be no contaminating outside influences, no reason for rejection of the old ways.”

“That explains all the money flowing in to the organization,” Lady Longtree said with satisfaction. “Thank you, my dear.”

“There is no shortage of cash,” Maria agreed grimly. “These wealthy men don’t do the hard work themselves, of course, but they know who to hire. To lead their organization they selected an individual who has successfully run a number of illegal businesses for many years without getting caught. To this day, no one but them knows who the person is. He or she hired agents to seek out immigrant Muslim parents and convince them that their daughters will have glorious lives as the wives of important men if they are sold to the rich families who wish to adopt them. Young women who become pregnant out of wedlock are favorite targets. Their gratitude when they find someone willing to help with no questions asked, and a good life for the child, too, is pathetic.”

Her mouth twisted into a grimace. “What they don’t know is that the girls become virtual slaves to their husbands and prisoners in his household. Should they object to their role they are cruelly punished or even killed by a member of the family or a servant.  Most are married and subjected to intercourse at seven or eight years of age, a practice which is thought to make them more pliable. They are there to produce sons; if they do not, they are discarded.”

“What happens to them?” Laura asked.

“If they are lucky they become unpaid servants, if they are not they are put out into the street. You can imagine what happens after that.”

“A horrible fate either way,” Laura said soberly. “You’d think word would get around among the parents that it’s not such a good deal.”

Maria shook her head. “The trouble is that word doesn’t get around. The agents make it clear that parents better not talk. A few who did have disappeared. Besides, for some of these families, it is a good deal. Money for them – though it is only a pittance compared to what the agents take - and what sounds like a life of luxury for daughters who would otherwise have a bleak future. As an added incentive, the parents get a free holiday until questions die down, so inquisitive souls like you three can’t get at them.”

Laura almost laughed. When the girl on the bicycle had told them that, she had dismissed the assertion as wishful thinking. Now it seemed the child was correct.

Maria looked at her watch. “Time is short. To sum up, it is extremely difficult to penetrate the organization. These people don’t hesitate to kill - even each other. The agents are well-paid, but they know that disloyalty or betrayal brings death. They dare not name their leader if they are caught, as you may have discovered.”

“We have,” Violet agreed.

Maria nodded, and a fiery gleam came into her blue eyes. “To fight them is also dangerous,” she said. “Very dangerous. We do it anyway.”

 “How?” Violet asked bluntly.

“We talk to families we believe have been contacted because of pregnancy or a new daughter, and give them another option, one that involves not money but choice. We explain what the organization will really do to their daughter; if they agree, we help them to raise her, or even raise her ourselves. I have opened a safe house for the children where they will be well cared for, and grow up to be self-sufficient. We also take women who want to get away from abusive husbands and teach them job skills so they don’t have to rely on anyone else unless they choose to.”

“The mother of the first baby I found is abused by her husband,” Laura inserted quickly. “Maybe you could contact her.”

Maria smiled mischievously. “We already have. I imagine her husband is livid.”