“That the safe had been collected that day by a Mr. Riffat.”
“Did you know this Mr. Riffat?”
“No, I did not.”
“So what did you do next?”
“I rang the Ministry of Industry, as I was under the impression that they were responsible for the safe.”
“And what did they tell you?”
“That the responsibility had been taken out of their hands.”
“Did they also tell you into whose hands the responsibility had been entrusted?” asked the Prosecutor.
“I don’t remember exactly.”
“Well, let me try and refresh your memory—or shall I call the Permanent Secretary to whom you spoke on the phone that morning?”
“I think he may have said that it was no longer in their hands,” said Al Obaydi.
“Did he tell you whose hands it was in?” repeated the Prosecutor.
“I think he said something about the file being sent to Geneva.”
“It may interest you to know that the official has submitted written evidence to confirm just that.”
Al Obaydi lowered his head.
“So, once you knew that the file had been passed on to Geneva, what did you do next?”
“I phoned Geneva and was told the Ambassador was not available. I left a message to say that I had called,” said Al Obaydi confidently, “and asked if he would call back.”
“Did you really expect him to call back?”
“I assumed he would.”
“You assumed he would. So what did you write in your report, in the sanctions file?”
“The file?” asked Al Obaydi.
“Yes. You were making a report for your successor. What information did you pass on to him?”
“I don’t remember,” said Al Obaydi.
“Then allow me to remind you once again,” said the Prosecutor, lifting a slim brown file from the table. “‘The Ministry of Industry has sent the file concerning this item directly to Geneva. I phoned our Ambassador there, but was unable to make contact with him. Therefore, I cannot make any progress from this end until he returns my call. Hamid Al Obaydi.’ Did you write that?”
“I can’t remember.”
“You can’t remember what the Permanent Secretary said to you; you can’t remember what you wrote in your own report when property of the state might have been stolen, or worse…But I shall come to that later. Perhaps you would like to check your own handwriting?” said the Prosecutor as he walked from the table and thrust the relevant sheet in front of Al Obaydi’s face. “Is that your writing?”
“Yes, it is. But I can explain.”
“And is that your signature at the bottom of the page?”
Al Obaydi leaned forward, studied the signature and nodded.
“Yes or no?” barked the Prosecutor.