One afternoon in Dubai

My name is Suede. I'm a private eye, in Dubai. It was late. It was hot. I was in my car - waiting.

You do a lot of that when you're a private eye. It's the first thing you drop when you become a public eye.

I had circled the Emirates Mall parking structure few hundred times to find the spot I needed. I put on my Italian-branded, Chinese-made, Karama-purchased sunglasses. I lift the collar of my Satwa-tailored shirt. I stick in a Barry White CD. And I wait.

Suddenly I see her. Her looks match the photo I've got. Beautiful is not the word. She is smashing: cooler than cool. She seems to have walked straight off a Prada catwalk. She is hurrying to her car. She drops the fine-branded shopping bags onto the backseat and drives off. Adrenaline rushes in my veins. I follow like a trained hound.

(Dissolve to earlier scene - a crowded shisha cafe, somewhere in Dubai)

"Mr.Suede?"

"Talk to me."

"I've been looking for you."

"So is half of Dubai. Now you found me -where's the beef?"

"I like a man with a sense of humour..."

"You're not here to socialise. What's on your mind?"

"It's about my wife. I don't know where to start."

"Try from the beginning - usually it's easier."

"We were fine. Just like any normal couple. We both work. We have our friends. Live in Jumeirah. We have one kid whom we both adore very much..."

"We all like kids. Cough it up."

"Lately, her attitude changed. She leaves her car by the house all day and moves around town in taxis. I am afraid she is leading a double life. I am totally devastated..."

"Hold your horses. If it ain't broke, don't fix it!"

"I want you to find out what's going on. Here's a photo of her."

"Enough said. I charge $50 every TV half four. I will get back to you in few. I cannot be rushed."

(Dissolve back to a crowded street in Dubai - present)

The dame is driving back home. That whole afternoon was wasted in the parking lot - under Dubai's no non-sense sun.

I feel betrayed. I need a shower. I need a drink. I need a piece of jazz. I need to vent at someone. I call Raj.

The case proves to be a tough cookie. It's more elusive than a pregnant chad in Florida. The dame has everything a woman wants in life - a well-trained, loving husband who comes equipped with a nice expatriate package - benefits, perks and all, a young kid who looks OK, a nice villa in Jumeirah and, most importantly; a nicely equipped BMW X-5 series four wheel drive SUV, with full leather interior, xenon lights and 10 speakers!

Unless I missed anything, a dame like that must have a good reason to lead a double life. What is that reason?

I know I can't buy more stylish eye-glasses without putting my finger on it. And how would a private eye look without stylish eyewear?

After weeks of snooping, I begin to comprehend the dynamics at play, as marketers like to say. I tie all the loose ends. I put one and one together. I figure out the case. It is time to meet the husband.

"Skip the downer act. It's not what you think."

"Then what is it? Please tell me."

"She is leading a double life. You got that right. But you were mistaken about the second life."

"Is she ...?"

"No, man, she had an awakening. She is experiencing an epiphany. She wants more from life than just clothes, parties and clubs."

"Did she join ..."

"No, she spends her days helping poor children read and write. She takes care of the sick and needy. She looks after the underprivileged. She developed a strong social conscience and she is following what her soul is dictating."

"Why doe she leave the car at home then?"

"Because she also volunteered to work as a nurse with a group called 'Doctors without BMWs'."

Ahmad Zahzah is a UAE-based media consultant.