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She turned and looked at him, before walking over. She tried not to look into his eyes as much, because its power was commanding her mind against the task at hand. “So,” she began and pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, “you have motive, opportunity and no alibi,” she said. “That is, unless there is someone who can verify you have been in your office at the time the man was murdered. I will have to contact forensics for the exact time of death, and see if that will help.”
“I guess that’s it then,” he told her and got up.
“That’s it?” she asked. “Do you think you just come in and say that, and that’s it?” she asked. “I am going to need a lot more than that to get you off the hook.”
“That is your job. I am paying you well to make sure I do not wind up in that filthy establishment,” he said arrogantly.
Jameela could feel the blood boiling inside her, and her ears getting warm from the effect. “Did it occur to you, that when you were gambling, that you had already made your bed in a ‘filthy establishment’? Didn’t you realize that at some point it would take more than money and a warm smile to get you off the hook? You may be paying me but you better hope and pray I find something that might help you.” She was fuming by then, but Al-Hafeez just stood there, looking at her, like she was the crazy one.
“You did not have to take this case. There are many lawyers here, and it would seem I have offended you in some way, though I fail to see how. In any case, you can ring me if you decide you are capable of turning this around,” he said. And with that he walked out.
Jameela stood there staring at the door after he had gone. It took her a full ten minutes before her breathing returned normalcy and her heart slowed its pace. She had been angry at his family before, but she had personally witnessed how overbearing they could be. Sheikh Al-Hafeez was not someone she was willing to fight for, and she was willing to risk her job in seeing him fall. But would she be able to endure the long hours she would need to work with him? In a fleeting moment she thought against it, just leaving him be, and let some poor sap bend over backwards to help him. The thing was, without a murder weapon, they possibly could not charge or convict him of murder. But she didn’t know what it was or if they had one.
“So?” Selena asked as she wheeled into the office. “Isn’t he adorable? I mean, I’ve heard stories about him but he seems far better,” she said with glee.
“The operative word being seems,” Jameela replied. “He is very arrogant and controlling, and at present I am still not sure I should be working with him. I think he deserves to go to prison.”
“What?” Selena asked and then laughed. “That bad, huh?”
Jameela slapped her hand on her forehead and closed the file. “While there is only a slim chance of losing this case, the man is already proving difficult to work with. Hey, look at me, the Almighty Sheikh Ramadan; I am paying you, so do as I command,” she said in a mock masculine tone, much to Selena’s amusement.
“He said that?” she asked.
“I’ve always disliked their kind,” Jameela replied.
“Well, look at it like this; you will be making a ton of money to just tolerate him. It shouldn’t be long. You are good at what you do Jameela.”
“Yeah, thanks Selena. I really hope this is my shortest case in history. I need to go down to the precinct,” she told the woman.
“Which means you are keeping it,” Selena said and grinned. “I’ll take that diamond bracelet for my birthday when you get paid.”
“Get out Selena,” Jameela said and smiled.
Her ride to the precinct was filled with nothing but inner turmoil and regret. She wanted to know as much as she could about the case, and if she could do nothing, then she wouldn’t show unnecessary interest. But continuing what she was planning sent her beyond her natural morals and professional work ethics, and she wondered if she could go through with it. Was she willing to sacrifice her career so that he could pay?
When she got to the precinct the prosecutor was already there. He escorted her to the room where the accuser waited. He had a stony face, and he stared straight ahead but seeing nothing. She stood there and listened to the man rattle on about how the Sheikh had killed his brother. And just when Jameela thought things could not get any worse, she was led away to the evidence room. Not only did they have a murder weapon, a knife with strange carvings and which seemed to be an antique, but it had Al-Hafeez’s fingerprints all over it. And his was the only one they could find.
When she passed by the investigation room again the man was just walking out. He gave her an odd look, and in that moment she wasn’t sure what was the winning side; seeing Sheikh Al-Hafeez behind bars for his crime against her family and watching a crook slither away untouched, or defending him so that justice was served. The thing was, she was no longer sure for whom she should be seeking justice.
CHAPTER 4
Jameela held the card in her hand—Freya Abdul, reporter— and played with it. She turned it over and over again, even while she held the phone in her hand. She got a rush of adrenaline just then and dialed the numbers printed in bold. It had only just started ringing when she lost her nerve and hung up again. Her palms were sweaty and clammy, and her heart raced as she sat there with her eyes glued to the device. There was a mental struggle going on between being selfish and being right, and she was no longer clear on what she wanted to be the winner.
“Jameela?” she heard a far off voice calling to her. She turned to face the door and saw Selena standing there. “Where were you just now?” she asked and walked into the office.
“I was just thinking about the case,” Jameela said and placed the phone on the desk. She rubbed her hand over her eyes to kill the tiredness that already clung to her eyelids.
“Did you get much sleep last night?” the woman asked her.
“Not much. I was going over the whole thing, and trying to make a case out of it. I need to see him in a few…oh!” she exclaimed when she saw the time. “He should be here any second now,” she said and jerked up in the chair. She shuffled some items around on her desk, raked her hair behind her ears and smacked her lips. Then she noticed the odd look Selena was giving her. “What?” she asked.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you are looking forward to meeting him,” Selena said and folded her arms.
“Don’t be silly,” Jameela retorted. “The man is impossible to be around.” She did not make eye contact with Selena when she responded, and that did not go unnoticed.
“If you say so,” the woman said.
“I do say so,” Jameela said. “Now, if you would excuse me,” she said and walked off. She was just exiting the main office when she ran headlong into Al-Hafeez. He instinctively grabbed her on the arms, even before realizing who it was.
