Free Black Book of Arabia by Hend Al Qassemi Page B

name and pointed her out from behind a glass when they brought her to the headquarters.
    It was Lulu.
    The Egyptian had recommended that Lulu send her items to Egypt, but the goat herder’s daughter thought it would cost too much since Egypt levies a tax on the entry of large quantities of goods. She did not want to pay the taxes, or risk having her cover blown. She decided to send the suitcases to a friend in Yemen, who would then forward the stolen goods to Riyadh, where Lulu would sell them in her mother’s salon. Nothing would be traceable to her. She could leave Sheikha’s house, have her luggage searched at the airport or even upon arrival in Saudi Arabia, and no one would find proof that she had done anything. Did they not say you are innocent until proven guilty? She thought that by giving the Egyptian the new phone she found among Sheikha’s things to make the arrangements, nothing could be traced. She was wrong.
    The police contacted the Yemeni, who returned items out of fear of being arrested. Every thief had taken a rather large suitcase and selected what he would like from the batch. The bags arrived at Sheikha’s palace amidst celebration. The elation did not last long. The first suitcase contained Sheikha’s wedding gown, or what was left of it. It was torn, snipped, and burned, and had muddy shoe prints on it. The delicate silk embroidery and crystals had been crushed. The dress was ruined. There is no wedding when there is no gown.
    Over the next few weeks, the police returned to the palace again and again with broken pieces of Sheikha’s life. Her wedding was ruined, and half of her jewelry had been sold in Saudi Arabia, Yemen, and the United Arab Emirates, and could not be recovered.
    Every day, Lulu sent Sheikha messages and apologies, but friendship is like a porcelain cup, precious and rare: Once broken, it can be mended, but a crack will always be there.
    The police threatened Lulu with life imprisonment in a high security prison if she did not return a Piaget watch worth $150,000. Naturally, she led the police to the watch’s new owner, who had paid only $2,000 for it on the black market. Lulu had sold the watch when Sheikha was still unaware that friendships have expiry dates, and that jealousy twists even iron ore in its wrath of fire.
    Lulu’s parents came to Sheikha’s family’s palace and begged to have their daughter released. They promised to return any stolen goods or to pay the difference. Generousand forgiving, Sheikha’s family arranged Lulu’s release. After she and her family left to Saudi Arabia, they disappeared.
    Lulu studied makeup art. She dazzled her customers and, with the coming of Instagram, rose to stardom. As her reputation grew, she instructed the Moroccans who knew her to call her Sultana Lulu, after the blockbuster Turkish historical soap opera,
Hareem Al Sultan
(The Women of the Sultan). Afraid of having to pay the debt that she was guilty of, she went to another matchmaker and paid her in makeup and salon services to find a new suitor. The matchmaker brought her an older man. His wealth was small, but his cousin was married to a powerful judge who they thought could pull a few strings on Lulu’s behalf. Lulu married her suitor within a few weeks. He paid a dowry of only 100,000 Saudi riyals, leaving the matchmaker furious because neither Lulu nor her husband had the decency to pay her customary fee.
    Despite Lulu’s hope that her ordeal was over, her crimes would not simply go away. A lawyer for Sheikha’s family contacted her new husband, demanding payment. When her husband asked Lulu about it, she denied everything. Her husband was furious and understood from his wife that it was all a lie made up against her. He said the lawyer was slandering his wife. Lulu should have told her husband the truth. Instead, when her partners in crime came clean, she was ordered to pay restitution.
    It was a debacle, especially