Strangers. Danuta Reah

you stay for the class?’ Roisin asked as they left the room.

      ‘If you are happy for me to,’ Yasmin said.

      As she followed the younger woman along the corridor, Roisin wasn’t sure if she’d just participated in a good-natured debate, or if she had been given a warning. She had no doubt that everything she said to the students would reach the diligent ears of the professor.

11

      Damien was sufficiently concerned by Amy’s sudden interest in the Patel case–especially as it seemed to have been triggered by Joe Massey–to do a bit of digging on his own. He wasn’t interested in the rights and wrongs of it–Patel had made a bad choice and had had the misfortune to fall foul of the Saudi legal system. Any crusade to get the case reopened would be a quixotic waste of time. The courts of the Kingdom didn’t make mistakes and anyone who suggested they did was asking for a fast ticket out. He didn’t like the system, but it wasn’t his system. It was up to the Saudis themselves to clean it up.

      He phoned Majid using his work number so that Majid would know this call was business rather than social. After the necessary exchange of courtesies–one of the things that had attracted Damien to Saudi culture when he first arrived was the voices calling the blessings of God upon their colleagues as a matter of routine–he introduced his topic: ‘Majid, I came across an old case yesterday, one of yours, from earlier this year. A Pakistani man called Haroun Patel was…’

      Uncharacteristically, Majid interrupted him. ‘You, too, my friend? Why does everyone involve themselves with this man? He stole drugs. He paid the penalty.’

      You, too. ‘I think we’re asking the same question. I’m asking you because someone asked me. I’ve forgotten the details. Remind me what happened.’

      ‘My friend, there is no mystery and no secret. We did a check on the hospital drugs supply. All was in order except in the main pharmacy where two packets of morphine had gone.’

      ‘They were stolen, not lost?’

      ‘They were stolen. The hospital had done an inventory just the night before, because we had warned them we would be visiting. The drugs were there then.’

      So the thief hadn’t just taken a risk, he had been stupid.

      ‘And then…?’

      ‘We searched the hospital and we found the missing drugs hidden in one of the lockers in the accommodation block where the technicians lived.’

      ‘Haroun Patel’s?’

      ‘Haroun Patel’s.’

      ‘And it was Patel who had put them there?’

      ‘The lockers have code numbers. No one but the user can access them.’ Majid’s voice was cooler.

      No one but the user and the hospital authorities. But Damien kept that thought to himself. He chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to offend Majid. ‘I knew Haroun Patel. It seems to have been a very unintelligent crime, and Patel was not a stupid man. It puzzled me…’

      ‘It wasn’t so stupid,’ Majid said. He sounded more relaxed now he understood Damien’s concern. ‘He did extra hours as a driver. He had been away the day before, delivering supplies round the villages. He didn’t know there was going to be a check.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Damien said formally. After he hung up, he reflected that this conversation had removed some of the doubts he’d had himself about the case. He still didn’t know why Patel had taken the risk of stealing the drugs, but if he thought he had time to get them away…Patel’s confession to the other crimes, the ones he probably hadn’t committed, had never surprised him. The Saudi police had interrogation methods that didn’t bear close scrutiny. It was another sore in a system that was chronically diseased, and it distressed Damien that a man like Majid was touched by that contamination.

      But someone was stirring things up. Majid, too, was aware of questions around the case. If the authorities were starting to pay attention, then that curiosity was dangerous and it was up to Damien to stop it. He needed to find out who was at the root of it, and why.

      The who he had some ideas about. This had started after Joe Massey had arrived. Massey had actually been talking about the case to Amy. It was possible that someone else could have been asking questions that had prompted Massey to talk to Amy, but Occam’s razor said that Massey was the who. The why eluded him completely. Why would anyone want to dig around the Haroun Patel case?

      He went back over the conversation in his mind. Amy had queried Haroun’s guilt, at least as far as some of the charges went. What was it she had said? The case against him never made a lot of sense…But sense was exactly what it had made. Patel had been a technician. He’d had access to the pharmacy. Means, motive, opportunity. Patel had the means and he had had the opportunity. The only thing Damien didn’t know was the motive. But if Patel was putting in extra hours as a driver, then he clearly needed money and had taken a fatal gamble.

      Damien shrugged off his doubts. People did stupid things when they panicked. It was academic. His concern now was to find out who was asking questions, who was about to cause some serious trouble in the ex-pat community, and put a stop to it.