WASHINGTON DC: The Sadir Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 1) (33 page)

By this time, Billycan was mystified. No one, least of whom Prince Khalid or Agent Gilford, had mentioned anything about this interview or the tape recording of it. In fact, the U.S. Attorney was furious.

“Yes, this has also been the court’s observation,” Silverman agreed. “Objection sustained. You may resume your cross-examination, Counsel, but do not tread on uncharted territory anymore; otherwise I’ll be the one stopping you.”

“Yes, Your Honour,” Simmons said, steadfastly noncommittal, turning to Khalid again. “Your Highness, you testified that you wanted to kill Agent Meshullam if you were able to reach him while he was in Australia; what made you change your mind?”

“When I finally visited Ms. Kartz in Canada, she explained to me the reasons behind Agent Meshullam’s action, and that explanation served to change my mind.”

“Extraordinary!” Simmons sneered. “Are you telling this court that Ms. Kartz—the victim in this case—managed to change your mind about her assailant, and after hearing what she had to say, you no longer had designs on Agent Meshullam’s life?”

“That’s exactly what I am saying, yes.”

“She must be an exceptional woman…”

“She is, Mr. Simmons.”

“Well, let’s assume that your answer can be corroborated, and that Ms. Kartz convinced you to stay away from Mr. Meshullam, did she also tell you that it was Mr. Sadir’s plan to have you killed in Australia, as you, yourself surmised before going to Sydney?”

“No, Ms. Kartz was not aware nor had any knowledge of Mr. Sadir’s activities at that point.”

“I see. One more thing, Your Highness…”

“Yes, Mr. Simmons…?”

“Do you have any knowledge of Agent Lypsick’s whereabouts at this time?”

“
He’s doing it again, Your Honour…!
” Billycan shouted from his chair.

“Are you objecting, Mr. Billycan?”

“Yes,
Your Honour, I…, I… am
, most strenuously,” the U.S. Attorney spluttered in anger. “The prosecution has not addressed the subject of Agent Lypsick’s whereabouts, so,
and again
, this question is not relevant to Mr. Simmons’s cross at this time.”

“Objection sustained. Mr. Simmons, you are moving beyond boundaries here. Remember what I told you, and move on!”

“I have no more questions, Your Honour,” the defence attorney said, visibly miffed, and went to sit down.

Billycan rose in a bound. “Redirect, Your Honour?”

“Yes, Mr. Billycan, go ahead,” Silverman agreed, seemingly relieved.

The US Attorney walked toward the prince a reproachful look in his eyes. Khalid looked down at his lap. “Your Highness, you have testified during Mr. Simmons’s cross-examination that you agreed to meet with Mr. Sadir and that, during this interview, you learned that the CIA was supposedly directing some sort of clean-up of their operation in West Africa. Did you draw any conclusion from the fact that Agent Lypsick was apparently setting up this trap for Mr. Sadir?”

Khalid nodded. “Yes, at the time, I thought Agent Lypsick was trying to extract information from Mr. Sadir which would indicate that
someone
in the CIA was trying to eliminate every possible witness to their failed operation in West Africa.”

“Is it your contention then that Agent Lypsick was aware of this “
someone’s
” intention and was intending to confirm his findings?”

“Yes, I believe that’s what Agent Lypsick was trying to accomplish, yes.”

“Now, Your Highness, just one more detail; since Agent Gilford pretended to be a wealthy drug dealer could you explain to the court what your role was during this interview?”

Khalid looked uneasy. “Yes. This dates back to the time my father was involved in the CIA’s operation in West Africa. Agent Lypsick was apparently aware of the fact and asked me to pose as the person who intended to follow in my father’s footsteps.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Billycan looked up at Silverman. “I have no more questions for this witness, Your Honour.” He walked back to his table and sat down, still visibly angry.

As soon as court was adjourned for the day, Billycan rushed out of the courthouse and into his car at kerbside. Marcel was waiting for him in the backseat. “How did it go with Prince Khalid?”

Billycan groaned. “The man keeps his aces up his sleeve alright. He’s been talking to the CIA Director…” Marcel raised an eyebrow. “Yes, you heard me. Prince Khalid obtained confirmation from the Director himself that Sadir had no business meddling in Mossad’s affairs—such as being informed of Meshullam’s movements—in a region that was not in his purview.”

“And where was he working primarily?”

“In West Africa!”

“Good God!”

“Yes! You said it. Not only do we have proof that Sadir was interfering in Mossad’s business, but we now have evidence of his direct involvement in the CIA’s operations in West Africa. Agent Gilford has a tape recording of an interview he and Prince Khalid had with Sadir in Vancouver.”

Marcel’s mouth dropped. “Why didn’t the prince let us have this information before the trial, do you think?”

“I can think of only one reason; protecting Samuel and Talya. He knew that if anyone interested in less than their well-being would get hold of that info, they would be in danger no matter where they were.”

“And since they’re under protective custody now, so to speak, he felt free to release this information, is that it?”

Billycan looked out the window and realized that they were going in the opposite direction to where he intended to go. “Carl, I’m sorry, but I’d like you to drive us to Mr. Van Dams’s office...”

“No problem, sir,” Carl replied. “We should be there in ten minutes, given the traffic.”

“That’s alright, no need to rush. We’re not due in court until morning now.”

Carl chortled and returned his eyes from the rear-view mirror to the road.

Billycan returned to looking out the car window. “Glenda was right when she said these guys play their cards close to their chests.” He paused. “By the way, did Glenda make her flight back to Miami?”

“Yes she did, and she phoned saying she was going to look into the second trawler’s incident right away and if she found out anything before Gilford is on the stand, she’ll inform us straight away.”

Billycan nodded.

“And why are we going to see Van Dams now?” Marcel asked. “We haven’t been notified that they’ve got Verduccio yet.”

“Because we’ve got to find out if Sadir had any connection whatsoever with the FBI. I have no doubt of it now, but I want Van Dams to confirm it, even if I have to put him on the stand to do it.”

“Does Van Dams know we’re coming?”

“No, Marcel, he doesn’t. And I don’t want him to be prepared for this meeting. I want to look in his face and see for myself if he’s lying.”

“Lying about what?” Marcel looked surprised.

“Come on, Marcel. Do you really think the man was ignorant of the fact that Sadir was working primarily in West Africa or that he had knowledge of the plot to assassinate Prince Abdullah while making him the scapegoat for the CIA’s failed operation? And if you recall, Van Dams didn’t provide us with all the communications Agent Peterson intercepted between Sadir and Lypsick. What’s more—a question that’s been nagging at me ever since we introduced the two IM communications we have on file—why on earth didn’t Van Dams arrest Lypsick when he learned of the plot between him and Sadir?”

Marcel shook his head. “You’re right, and I think he must have known about the West African operation, but all the same, I don’t think he was aware that Sadir had intercepted messages or even meddled in Mossad’s affairs
before
Agent Peterson showed him the two damning messages.”

“Yes, you’re probably right, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that he didn’t arrest Lypsick when he had the chance.” Billycan paused. “And with these cagy characters I prefer to have confirmation of anything I may advance in court before I do. In fact, he should have told us about Sadir’s functions before I heard it from one of our witnesses.”

When Marcel and Billycan arrived at their destination, they saw Van Dams come out of the building as they were about to enter it. A shot rang out and Van Dams fell to the ground in a heap.

“Call 9.1.1., NOW!” Billycan shouted to Marcel. He was already dialling. “Hang in there, Dietrich. Hang in there, my friend,” the US Attorney said to the dying man.

“Lyp... sick...” was Van Dams’s last word.

Billycan pressed his hand to the bleeding chest for a few seconds until he felt the heart stop beating.

The sirens blared, announcing the arrival of police and ambulance fracturing the silence that surrounded the front of the large building—a solitary centurion towering over the body of one of its occupants. The few people that rushed to assist the injured fellow, and Billycan in turn, were possibly agents who alerted their colleagues and friends inside. It was not until afterward that the US Attorney realized any one of these men and women could have been the shooter.

“Get me out of here,” Billycan blurted, getting up, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping Van Dams’s blood off his hands. He grabbed hold of Marcel’s arm for support.

“Yes, sir. Carl is pulling out of the garage right now... He’ll be here in a minute.”

“Okay…” Billycan’s face paled. He felt unwell. He wanted to sit down.

Within minutes, the police had the crime scene cordoned off and the EMTs were attending to the U.S. Attorney.

“My name is Frank,” the young man said to Billycan as he helped him to sit down on the back seat of the U.S.D.A.’s vehicle. “You’ve suffered a shock, and I think it’d be a good idea if we took you to the hospital and have a look at you.”

Billycan abhorred hospitals. “No, absolutely not.” He pulled his legs from the curb and settled in the seat. “I may have suffered a shock but I am not going to no hospital. I’m going home!” He looked up at Marcel. “We’ll drive you home, too; it’s on the way.” Then he shot a glance to Carl. “Let’s go,” he told him and slammed the car door in the EMT’s face.

As the car drove away, the officer, who was standing by the body, asked his colleague, “Do you know who that was?”

“No idea. Why didn’t you stop him? He witnessed the incident.”

“And he’ll make a very good witness, too,” he replied, still looking after the car going through the intersection.

“What you mean?”

“That was the US Attorney himself—Mr. Lucien Billycan!”

“I’d never have recognized him. You sure it was him?”

“As sure as I’m talking to you.” He looked back at his partner. “Anyway, let’s see what we can do about getting some info before the detectives arrive...”

“You don’t have to stay and babysit me,” Billycan protested once again as Marcel was refusing to leave the US Attorney until Darlene arrived. He had called and asked her to come to Billycan’s house without giving her much of an explanation.

“I know that…, but I’ll stay until Darlene gets here,” Marcel replied.

“You miserable romantic!” Billycan blurted as he poured a stiff scotch for the two of them. “Do you really think I want a woman’s company now?”

“You may not want to, sir, but I think you will appreciate it once you relax.”

Billycan laughed. “And I’ll have to take her out for dinner, I suppose”

“Oh no, you don’t! As a matter of fact, I should think that bullet was not meant for Van Dams but for you.”

Billycan put the two glasses on the coffee table before he answered, “Maybe...” He sat down. “Yet, if you think of everything we’ve heard thus far, you have to conclude that Van Dams was the linchpin that moved the wheels in this affair.” Marcel watched the U.S. Attorney a circumspect look on his face. “Yes, Marcel. Look…, Van Dams knew of Sadir’s involvement in West Africa. He had access to these communications that our defendant had with Mossad and with Assor. He was aware at least of Lypsick’s movements if not of his menacing Sadir’s family, and last he was well informed of the FBI’s participation into fabricating evidence to inculpate Ms Kartz.”

Marcel continued staring. The picture became clear in his mind. “Would you then conclude Van Dams was the ‘Puppeteer’?”

“No, Marcel, but he was sure near the top of the chain.”

Marcel took a swig of his drink. Billycan’s conclusion made sense, but he was still worried. “Even if that’s true, sir, wouldn’t you say these guys have you in their sights? They would know that you’ve deduced the truth after Khalid’s testimony this afternoon.”

“But I’m not going into hiding, if that’s what you’ve got in mind. I’ll be in court in the morning as usual and I won’t do these assassins their bidding under any circumstances.”

“Even if it kills you?”

Billycan took a sip of scotch and kept the glass in the one hand. “The next bullet won’t hit me. I promise you. That would be too obvious a move after this man on the court steps told me to watch my back and Van Dams’s shooting. I tell you; whoever it is would be a fool to try it.”

Marcel was replaying the incident in his mind, drinking his scotch concertedly. “Did Van Dams say anything before he died?”

“Huh-huh; he said just one word, ‘Lypsick’, but that will remain between you and me for now, until I can figure out what he meant.”

“Do you think he meant Lypsick fired the shot?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he meant that they found the guy; but we’ll find that out soon enough.”

They heard the doorbell. Marcel went to the front door and after looking through the peephole, opened it wide. “Ms Stovall, good evening,” he said, extending a hand for her to shake. “Good of you to come.”

Darlene took Marcel’s hand and dragged him close to her with it. “Why didn’t you say anything? I heard the whole thing on the radio…”

“Please come in. We’re in the study.” Marcel didn’t want to answer. He pulled his hand away and backed up from the attorney. He knew Billycan would be standing behind him any minute now. And he was.

“Darlene! Thank you for joining us, but I think Marcel was a bit pre-emptive in his calling you to my side...” Billycan’s jocularity didn’t ring true.

“
Pre-emptive?
Pre-emptive, you say? I should say it was the right thing to do. You look a mess!” She was right. His shirt was undone at the collar. His necktie hung down his chest and with his hair tousled, Billycan looked a sorry sight indeed.

She approached him. “And why didn’t you call me yourself, you selfish bastard?” She took the glass away from him. “You almost got shot, and you want to dismiss me like a second-rate housekeeper. Where is she anyway?”

“If you’re talking about Melinda, she won’t be back until morning now…, why?”

Marcel observed the bantering with pleasure. It was time for him to leave. “Sir, I’ll be here at 8:00…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Marcel... Are you leaving now?” Approval laced the question. “Okay…, but you don’t have to come here in the morning. I’ll be fine. Carl will drive me as usual.”

“Okay then... I’ll see you in court,” Marcel said. “Ms Stovall—a pleasure as always.”