It seemed like the boy wanted to talk about something.Then he spoke up, "Joan, ah think ah done good with my boys, but ah don' know much 'bout gals."J...an nodded. Sister Nancy had made sure the entire tribe knew about George's leanings, ranting about his sinful nature whenever the boy came up as the subject of conversation. She waited.He sighed. "Ah'd like you to be the go-to gal for 'em, handlin' any problems. Ah don' feel they'd accept mah authoritah anyway, y'know?"She prickled. "You mean you. Khalid was not originally from Rabat, but had moved there due to better work opportunities. Though Muslim, like many in North Africa, Khalid's parents were from Mali. So, rather than being of lighter skin tone, he was a beautiful dark coffee color. (The dark coloration that Hanna especially preferred.) He was somewhat older than either Hanna or I (he was 39 at the time), but he had already fathered three other babies, so it was obvious that he had the 'credentials' for fathering a baby that we. ”We all sat down together in the kitchen to work out a plan. We needed to somehow get a confession from the pyscho doctor, and then we could tie him in with the hired thugs. There would be enough evidence to put him away for life. The first thing we needed to do was to get back to the city, to the hospital where he worked.Like all good plans, it made logical sense at the time - get wired with a recording device, find the doctor, get him to confess to his crimes, and then arrest him. Like all. "Who's in there? I heard you in the garden." It was a male voice, obviously a neighbour. I went to the door and called through it. "Hi, I'm ****'s son. I'm house sitting while they're away." I hoped this would satisfy him. "There's a package got delivered to my house. Can you take it please?" "Errrrrr... just leave it there." "Is there a problem?" I could tell he was suspicious. I had no answer. "Listen something isn't right here... If you don't open the door I'll have to call the police.." In.