“I gather you explained how complicated the situation has become?”
“Yes, but I don’t believe either were of the opinion that the complications justified us not honoring our promise. They want us to fold our tent and come home.”
“We can’t do that. We’ve already caught two others who will confirm Rouse’s claim as to the existence of Mr. S. and a team of would-be assassins.”
“Correct,” stated Huck. “Which leads to the foreign issue I mentioned. None of what we have secured to date proves that Rouse was not the triggerman. All are denying that they did the hit and none can identify who did.”
“OK. If that’s the foreign issue, what’s the bad news about the case?”
Huck, looking somewhat dumbfounded, said, “We don’t have a case! Without the assassin or the person who hired the assassin, we are still no closer to proving Rouse’s innocence than we were the day we arrived. Cedric, I am at a loss as to where we go from here. Although I believe that we’re on the right trail, I don’t know the turn we need to make next.”
Cedric stared down at his feet. Huck rose from the sofa and walked over to the window, scratching his head. At this late hour, there were still vehicles moving up and down the streets, making turns at traffic lights and intersections, obviously knowing where they were going. Here he and Cedric were, in a hotel room, with no idea of which direction they should go next.
Finally Cedric spoke. “We start over.”
“Come again? Are you saying all we’ve done is for naught?”
“No. What I’m saying is that we have lots of rope with loose ends and we need to find the right knots that will tie them all together.”
“I’m listening,” said Huck. “But we must also remember that we have been here awhile and we still have a serious hole in our home front that we need to shore up before we stay here much longer.”
“Try to get some rest. I’ll give Alice a call. I do have a few years of CIA experience at regrouping as well as making last-minute changes of plans with her. In the past, she has always been understanding when the unexpected happens. Hopefully, she can educate Rose as to how changes in missions can upset the best laid plans.”
“Good luck with that,” said Huck as he started toward his bedroom. “I look forward to the morning and hearing your ideas about how we start over.”
When Huck entered the sitting room the next morning, he found Cedric already dressed in a light-blue shirt and khaki pants, drinking a cup of coffee and watching the news on the TV.
“I didn’t realize you knew enough German to understand the local news.”
“There are a lot of things you still don’t know about me, but you don’t have to be a German linguist to know from this broadcast that we have a bigger problem now than we had last night.”
“What’s happening?”
“It appears that at one o’clock today the judge in the Rouse case is going to announce that selection has been finalized as to the trial date. Commentators are speculating that the date will be sooner than initially thought.”
“Do you have any good news?”
“I do. Spoke to Alice after we talked last evening. She seems to understand our current situation and will try to explain it to Rose.”
“Thanks. I’m hopeful that her conversation with Rose will buy us some more time. What are your ideas for starting over?”
“We start over by returning to the scene of the crime. Last time we spent all our time looking inside the house but we really didn’t pay attention to how the perpetrator or perpetrators got into the house.”
“We know that a truck with ladders on top was used.”
“But with Rouse’s height, would he have needed a ladder? From what I’ve seen of the balconies around here, in my younger days, I could have stood on a foot-high block and jumped high enough to grab one of the railings and pull myself up. Rouse must be at least four inches taller than me. Besides, using a ladder runs the risk of unexpected and unwanted noise.”
Huck, dressed in jeans and a denim shirt, said, “Let me grab a light jacket and we’ll head in that direction.”
“Don’t forget the coffee I prepared for you. It’s on the desk. I’ll meet you at the elevator.”
With Cedric behind the wheel of the BMW, they made good time to the crime scene. During the drive, Huck asked, “Is it possible for US Customs to do a facial digital data-point analysis and comparison of the passport picture we have of Mr. S. with any others who may have passed through customs wearing a disguise?”
“I’m sure that could be done. We were doing some of that about the time I retired from the CIA. The results will be a lot faster if we can narrow the window for the scan.”
“I think if we look between thirty to sixty days after the date of the crime, there is a good possibility that we could learn if Mr. S., with or without a beard, arrived back in the States. Otherwise, he may very well still be in Europe. If that’s the case, we could turn some of this work over to Interpol.”
“I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, will you ask Berger if he knows anything about a trial date? The way things are going, I’m afraid we’re going to run out of time.”
Upon turning off their current street, the house they were looking for could easily be detected because there was still yellow crime scene tape around the entire house. Huck surmised that this was to secure the area through the trial in the event that others wanted to visit the crime scene during the proceedings.
Cedric parked on the same side of the street on which the house was located. Separating the house with the crime scene tape from its neighbor was an alley about the width of a service truck. In addition, the small passage allowed room for residents to have access to a garage container behind their houses. Even though the passage separated the houses, each house had either a six-foot wall or six-foot-high hedges separating them from the passageway.
Huck and Cedric took their time examining all aspects of the exterior of the brick and stone house. The view was made more difficult by a solid eight-foot brick wall surrounding the house. When they reached the backside of the house, they stopped to study the second-floor patio from which the assassin may have gained entry.
They had only been assessing the alleged point of entry for about five minutes when a deep, gruff voice said, “Hey, this is not a tourist attraction!”
Huck turned to see a man who appeared to be in his mid- to late eighties, with an angry expression on his face, standing on a ladder on the other side of the passageway trimming the top of his hedges. Maintaining his cool, Huck replied, “Sir, I know this is not a tourist attraction, but we are investigators.”
“Ah! Americans, yes?”
“That is correct, American investigators.”
The expression on the man’s face changed. “Then you know the American is innocent?”
Huck and Cedric looked at each other in dismay while they both wondered how the old man had arrived at this conclusion. Did he know something others did not?
Huck quickly requested, “Sir, can we talk with you for a few minutes?”
“Of course. Come to the back gate and I will let you in.”
Huck and Cedric were waiting at the back gate with their credentials out when the old man arrived. He momentarily stared at their identification before unlatching the gate. “Please come in. Have seat at my garden table. Let me get you a beer. I have never met an American who didn’t like a good cold German beer.” He tottered toward a deck on which sat a small refrigerator. He took out three beers and started back in their direction, kicking at small limbs or debris that littered his direct approach.
Huck jumped up and scurried over to the man. “Sir, let me help you with that.”
As Huck took two of the beers, the old man said, “Can I get you boys something to snack on?”
“No, sir. This is more than generous,”
replied Huck.
When they all were seated, the old man said, “My name is Allenberger. I am Jewish German, and to this day, I don’t trust the German gestapo.”
“Gestapo?” questioned Cedric.
“Well, nowadays they call themselves the polizei, but they haven’t changed. There is no presumption of innocence. One is guilty until they prove themselves innocent. The poor lad in jail doesn’t have a chance in this legal system.”
Huck was even more curious about what Allenberger might know, but he did not want to press the old man, so he asked, “Why do you say that?”
“I was just a small child when the Americans came to our rescue. My family had never done anything illegal. They paid their taxes and were respectful to the government. Yet most of my family was rounded up and sent to concentration camps where they died. I was taken in by our German neighbor who changed my name to Franz and made it known that I was an orphan from my mother’s side. They claimed I was of their family. If they had not, I would now be dead. After the war, I changed my name back to Allenberger.”
“I am sorry to learn of what happened to your family, but if I may, how do you know the American is innocent?”
“Before I answer your question, you need to know the basis for my response. At a very early age, I learned that the gestapo or polizei want you to answer only the questions they ask. They do not want explanations or for you to volunteer information. In short, they have already formed their opinion, and your answers are only to support their predetermined position.”
The old man’s comment gave Huck a flashback to the new-arrival orientation he had received when he was first assigned to Germany. He had been told, “If stopped by the German polizei, show courtesy, be polite, and do not question them or be argumentative. Should you do so, you will find yourself immediately arrested and placed in confinement. You should request to make one phone call to our embassy. Let the US government come to your assistance.”
The old man continued. “The polizei questioned what I was doing between ten thirty and eleven p.m. I said I was asleep. I was then asked if I heard or saw anything. I said no because I was asleep. They did not ask what I saw between nine and nine twenty p.m.”
Cedric quickly asked, “What did you see between those times?”
The old man said, “I was on my patio, which you can see is in line with patio next door. I had just finished my last cigarette before going to bed when a small white panel truck parked on the passageway between my house and the representative’s house. And that is another story. Did you know that lowdown scum was cheating on his wife long before she decided to divorce him?”
Huck remained patient, knowing that elderly people can quickly change what they are talking about when another thought pops into their minds.
“That creep of a man rented the house next door and moved into it with his girlfriend, who is about half his age. In my opinion, he got exactly what he deserved.”
Before the old man could get a breath to continue that story, Huck said, “You were saying a white panel truck parked between your house and the representative’s house?”
“Yes. The truck had two ladders on the roof. Now that proved to be a little comical.”
Huck looked quizzically at Cedric before turning back to Allenberger. “How so?”
“How so, what?” asked the old man.
“How were the ladders on the truck comical?”
“Well, these two short guys jumped out of the truck from the passenger side.”
“No one got out on the drivers side?”
“No. The driver remained in the truck. But you should have seen the two short guys trying to get the ladders off the top of the truck.”
“How tall would you say those two short guys were?”
“Maybe my height, about five feet seven or eight inches.”
Both Huck and Cedric knew that Rouse was over six feet.
“What happened next?” asked Cedric.
“Well, they propped one ladder against the representative’s brick wall. One climbed to the top of the wall and took the second ladder from the guy on the ground. He placed it on the other side of the wall. Then both went over the wall. I saw one run toward the patio with one of the ladders. The other ran toward the front door and pointed something at the security camera. He then returned to hold the ladder that had been propped against the patio. Then the other went up the ladder and through the patio door. The one who went inside could not have been in there more than a couple of minutes. When he came out, he did something that I found to be a little strange.”
“What was that?” asked Huck.
“He stopped to do something to the plant on the patio. He appeared to be rearranging the flowers. Then he hurried down the ladder and the two of them came back to the wall. Getting the two ladders back on top of the truck took them more time than getting over the wall, going into the residence, and getting back over the wall. I think the driver must have been in charge because it was during that time that I the driver stuck his head out of the window’ I couldn’t make out what he said. However, I think he was telling them to hurry.”
Huck thought. That must have been Mr. S..
“How long do you think the truck was parked?” asked Huck.
“Don’t exactly know, but I know I was in bed by nine forty because I looked at the clock to see the time. I try to be in bed by nine thirty.”
“Herr Allenberger, would you give a written statement as to what you have just told us?”
“If it would help the American, yes. But there will be no statements to the polizei or in a trial. I don’t trust German law enforcement. Any statement I give that disagrees with their predetermined scenario would land me in jail. I will only give a statement with that condition.”
“There is a very good attorney, Gunter Berger, of the Berger and Berger law firm, who is representing the American. He would be the one taking your statement.”
“I will give him my statement only if you bring him to me and you give me your word, as representatives of the United States, that there will be no polizei involved and that I will not have to go to trial.”
Cedric spoke up. “Herr Allenberger, I am a retired CIA agent, and Price is a retired US Army colonel. We both give you our word that your name will be protected and that it will be redacted from your sworn testimony.”
“You didn’t tell me that you were representatives of the US government.”
“Technically we are not representatives, but between the two of us, I am confident that we can protect our source.”
“Thank you. I hope my statement will free this innocent American.”
Huck and Cedric thanked Herr Allenberger and departed with the most positive feeling they had had since the beginning of their investigation. Once back on the street and walking to the BMW, Huck commented that Cedric appeared to have a bounce in his limp.
Chapter 35
Mustafa had delayed his call to Kaplan for as long as he could. He needed to tell Kaplan what he had learned about Smart. Although he had personally talked with Smart in both the Bundeskabinett building and in Smart’s hotel room, he could not find anyone who would acknowledge the man’s existence. Even the US Steel Manufacturers Association denied having a lobbyist by the name of Cedric Smart. Mustafa wondered, How could a man’s very existence vanish so quickly? And how do I explain that to Kaplan?
When the Kaplan Company CEO’s secretary answered the phone, Mustafa identified himself and asked if he could speak with Kaplan.
The secretary replied, “Mustafa, I will see if he is available, but remember—he prefers that you to speak in English.”
Kaplan answered the phone a lot quicker than Mustafa would have liked, but he had to get the ordeal over with.
Kaplan said, “Tell me something that will make my day better.”
“Bay…I mean Mr. Ka
plan, I have news that is hard for me to understand, much less explain to you.”
“Mustafa, you are starting in a manner that does not sound good for either of us, so get to the facts.”
“Sir, the facts are that Cedric Smart’s very existence cannot be confirmed. Now please understand, I have personally spoken with him, and all that I have told you is what he told me. But as of today, the German lobbyist registry claims to have never had a lobbyist named Cedric Smart. When I called the US Steel Manufacturers Association, it also denied having a lobbyist by the name of Smart. Furthermore, the hotel will not acknowledge that he was ever one of their guests. I cannot explain how this could be.”
The explosion that erupted from Kaplan’s mouth probably set off the Richter scale somewhere in Turkey. “You idiot!” he screamed. “You were played a fool by letting greed get between you and the truth. I suspect that Smart, in some way, is trying to connect the dots between the Kaplan Company and the death of the Hesse representative.”
“No, sir, I don’t that to be the case. The subject of the Hesse representative never came up in our conversations.”
“Maybe not directly, but I can guarantee that you probably said enough that if Smart is an investigator, he was able to draw that conclusion.”
“Please, Mr. Kaplan, I can assure you, Smart is not an investigator.”
“Yeah, just like you assured me that Smart was a lobbyist. I don’t know what you can do to correct this situation, but you had best get me some facts on Smart. I want to know if the man’s real name is Smart and who he is working for. You have forty-eight hours to get back to me with that information. Should you fail to do so, your services will be terminated in more than one way. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, sir. I have forty-eight hours.”
“Or what? You need not repeat back to me because I know you fully understand my meaning.”
Mustafa then heard nothing but silence. He did not know how to go about resurrecting a man who, it seems, never existed.
A Price for Balancing the Scales Page 18
