I was somewhat roused by several visits the American Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Chief of the Bombay Police Inspector Suri Saleem paid to me. Did my mother have any enemies I was aware of they repeatedly queried. I knew of no enemies. They returned to ask me if I had any enemies. Me! I am just an unknown teenager. They spilt the beans. The crash of the airplane that killed Juanita was not due to metal fatigue but due to a plastic explosive commonly used by Albanian security forces. Traces were identified in an FBI laboratory. Wait a minute! My dearest Iraqi sweetheart in Montreal’s brother, Abdul, had been in the Iraqi military as an explosive expert Minah had told me. Well it wasn’t that long before a trail led to Abdul as the perpetrator. Sensing he was being closed in he fled to Albania and from there he took a Juginthehead Airlines flight to Pyongyang in North Korea. The investigators were puzzled why the explosives that brought down my mom’s Sobranj Airlines flight originated in Albania and why Abdul had fled to North Korea. As Inspector Saleem said this case was a tough nut to crack. I vowed to hunt down that bastard and stick a wad of plastic explosives up his ass. When would that be was a question but it was not a question. It was an imperative!