“Yes, Naomi, something else has happened,” Paul said quietly. “I’m afraid something has happened to Ahmed.”
“Is he okay?” Naomi said. “Where is he?”
“I’m terribly sorry,” Paul said. “Ahmed was murdered last night. It was his body found at the site. I’m so very sorry.”
Naomi jumped to her feet. Her screams of grief were so shrill two guards came storming into the interrogation room.
Paul waved them back, indicating they should be left alone. The guards withdrew, reluctantly. He wrapped his arms around Naomi as she wept uncontrollably.
“Please, please tell me that isn’t true,” Naomi managed to say finally, stepping back. “This can’t be real! This is all a terrible nightmare!”
“I’m afraid it is horribly real,” Paul said. He struggled to control his own emotions.
“What happened?”
“We’re not sure yet,” Paul replied. “A sheriff’s deputy was called to the site early this morning after a homeless man found Ahmed’s body.”
“Are you sure it’s Ahmed?” Naomi said. “There must be some mistake! It can’t be him!”
“The police asked me to confirm his identity,” Paul said quietly.
Naomi broke down in more sobbing. Paul gathered her into his arms again, hoping to will some of his own strength over to her.
“There’s more isn’t there?” Naomi said. “What is it?”
“The sheriff told me he is going to charge Isaac with premeditated murder in Ahmed’s death,” Paul said.
“What?” Naomi said, her mouth and eyes opened wide in surprise. “That’s preposterous! Isaac was with me, Paul.”
“Yes,” Paul said. “I was to have breakfast with him. We met at six, which leaves only a few hours unaccounted for.”
“Why am I here?” she asked. “Do they think I’ve done something wrong?”
“The deputy handling the investigation told me you are going to be charged with being an accessory to murder.”
“What?” Naomi said. “They can’t be serious, Paul!” She started crying again. “Do you know why Isaac and I didn’t join you and Ahmed last night for supper?” she said.
Paul shook his head.
“Isaac took me out for a quiet romantic dinner in Kingsport... just the two of us,” she said. “He asked me to marry him! I know we’ve only known each other a few months. But I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I’m in love with Isaac. I accepted. Paul, I should tell you, Isaac stayed with me last night. I slept in. Isaac went ahead to have breakfast with you, and came back to drive me to the site.”
So that’s why he wasn’t wearing a jacket when he met me for breakfast, Paul thought.
She held up her left hand. “He gave me this beautiful engagement ring,” Naomi said pointing to her ring finger. She wept again.
Paul felt helpless to do anything to console her except to hold her tightly. He felt her pain. Ahmed, Naomi, and Isaac were more than protégés... they were valued friends.
“I should go now,” Paul said gently. “I hate leaving you alone like this but we need to get an attorney working for you and Isaac right away. Are you going to be all right until I can get this underway?”
Naomi looked up and nodded reluctantly.
“Thank you so much, Paul. I’ve got to get out of this terrible place. I’ve got to see Isaac. Oh my God, Paul, this is horrible!”
She began sobbing again.
***
Andrew Johnson Suite
Hale Springs Inn
“Are you all right?” Anne asked on the phone. Paul could hear the pain and fear in her voice as she struggled to recover from the news about Ahmed’s murder and the arrests of Isaac and Naomi.
“Yeah, my love,” Paul said. “I’m as good as can be expected.”
“Are you sure?” she said. “Whoever murdered Ahmed... will they...?” Her voice trailed off.
“I doubt it, my love,” Paul replied, with more confidence than he felt. “Ahmed was targeted, not me. I think he was singled out because he is... he was different... his race... his color... his religion. Some local people here are bigots, prejudiced. It’s pure ignorance.”
“Do you think his old gang could have been involved?” Anne asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Paul said, suspecting they probably were. “That’s a long way to come just for revenge. The sheriff told me Ahmed’s car was found parked on a side street. It doesn’t look like robbery. They found his briefcase and laptop, a flashlight and other valuables still in the car. It’s odd the keys were found in the ignition. I hope there’ll be fingerprints.”
“I know you need to be there,” Anne said. Her voice had a worried, wistful tone. “I was so looking forward to seeing you this weekend. I want you home safe with us. Doug misses you too, and Catherine keeps asking for her daddy.”
Paul’s chest tightened. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “I miss all of you too. But I do need to be here. Joan Hamilton and her husband don’t know yet. I’ll ask Malcolm to tell them. They’ll want to come here immediately. I need to be here for them. They’ll be devastated. And I must do whatever I can to help Naomi and Isaac. No local lawyer handles criminal cases. I have to look elsewhere. Whoever I find will need my help.”
“I understand, my love,” Anne said. She was proud of her husband’s commitment to all of the people he cared about. “I love you,” she said.
“Love you too,” Paul replied, a lump in his throat. “I miss you!”
***
“Malcolm, I have some terrible news,” Paul said.
“What’s happened, Milord?” his London solicitor asked.
“Ahmed’s dead.”
“My word!” Malcolm replied. “Did I hear you correctly, sir? Did you say Ahmed Mousavi is dead? What happened?”
“Yes,” Paul said. He took a moment to gather his composure. “He was murdered, Malcolm. He was murdered while trying to do some desperately needed good in this God-forsaken world of ours. I’m still trying to believe it.”
“I’m so sorry, Milord!” Malcolm replied. “Do you know how it happened?”
Paul filled Malcolm in on the details of Ahmed’s death, as he knew them.
“I’m at a loss to know how those miserable bastards knew Ahmed was here,” Paul said. “Do you suppose it has any connection to Agnes Meriwether’s dalliance with Kazem Mehregan?”
“Shall I have a word with Chief Inspector Hagerman, Milord?”
“Leave that with me,” Paul said. “He may not take kindly to me having shared that information with you, despite lawyer-client privilege.”
“As you wish, Milord”
“Our immediate need, Malcolm, is for a criminal defense attorney,” Paul said. “The best we can find.”
“Why is that, Milord?” Malcolm asked.
“Joan Hamilton’s niece, Naomi, has been arrested on a charge of accessory to murder.”
“Good gracious!” Malcolm said. “Joan will be very upset by these terrible events.”
“It gets worse, Malcolm.”
“How is that, Milord?”
“My other young partner, Isaac, has been charged with Ahmed’s murder,” Paul said. “Isaac’s recovering in hospital from gunshot wounds to his right shoulder and right lung. He was shot by a cop.”
“How did that happen, sir?”
“He was shot from close up, Malcolm. The sheriff says he was resisting arrest. I don’t believe it.”
“Milord, it looks like you’re going to need some top legal counsel,” Malcolm replied. “It so happens, my firm is a member of an international network of more than ninety law firms. One is based in Nashville. It’s done a lot of work in criminal matters, for entertainers and others. I’ll call my friend, Jeremy Hill, and email you the details. His specialty is criminal law. He’s the senior partner of Hill, Murdoch, Finch. I’ll ask Jeremy to contact you right away.”
“Thanks, Malcolm,” Paul said. “You’re amazing! That legal network of yours has come
through again. The sooner we get someone helping Isaac and Naomi the better.”
“Quite, Milord,” Malcolm said. “I’ll go see Joan straightaway. She and Michael will be devastated. They’ve almost come to regard Ahmed as the son they never had. Oh my! I’m not looking forward to this.”
“Thank you for taking this on,” Paul said. “I’m sorry it’s fallen on you to break the terrible news to them.”
“Joan will insist on making the funeral arrangements,” Malcolm said. “I’ll have someone contact his father in jail... it’s the decent thing to do.”
“Please give Joan and Michael my condolences. Tell them I’m at their disposal for whatever they need at this end,” Paul said.
“Thank you, Milord,” Malcolm said. “I expect she and Michael will want to go there forthwith.”
“I’ll make hotel arrangements for them,” Paul replied.
“Right you are, Milord.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Three Days Later
Quality Inn, Kingsport, TN
“Why the fuck did you have to tell me that… you dipshit?” Pamela said. “I’m implicated now! D’y’all actually think y’all can get away with killing that guy? Y’all must be fuckin’ crazy!”
Jason Malik had returned naked from the bathroom and flopped his big hairy overweight body on the bed.
“You didn’t mind me telling y’all about it last night over a bottle of bourbon,” Malik said. “And then again after we fucked. Didn’t seem to bother y’all much.”
“That was the booze,” she shot back. “I should have kicked your sorry ass outta here after we got drunk. Don’t y’all realize I could be charged with a criminal offense, no thanks to you? I’m on parole for Christ’s sake; don’t y’all git it, you useless dipshit? I could get screwed, unless I turn y’all in, of course.”
“Don’t y’all even fuckin’ think about that!” Malik said, rolling onto his elbows. The threatening look in his dark piercing eyes sent chills up her spine. Pamela knew all too well what he was capable of doing. They’d dated briefly in high school. She’d seen him savagely beat any boy who dared to even talk to her, much less look at her lustfully. “Y’all could lose a fuckin’ lot more than a bit of time in jail... if y’all rat me out. By the way, where’s your kid?”
“Stacey’s with my parents,” she said. “Why?”
“Nothin’,” he replied. His warning was clear.
“Why the hell did y’all kill that guy?” Pamela asked.
“It didn’t start out like that,” he replied. “It was an accident. We was just pickin’… havin’ us a bit a fun... and sendin’ a message, I guess. We kinda got carried away.”
“Having fun?” Pamela asked. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“Naw. Me an’ a couple a fellas got pretty drunk that night,” Malik said. “We started out just pickin that kook around a bit. Got carried away, I guess. Before we knew it the guy up and died. Hell, he’s a nobody. What the fuck did he think he was doin’ here anyway? He’s one a them Muslim terrorists. They shoulda sent that prick right back to where he came from.”
“Aren’t you a Muslim too?” she asked. “I know y’all look white, but y’all came from Pakistan didn’t ya?”
“Fuck no!” Malik said. “I was born in this country. My mom’s American too, from Iowa, so’s my grandparents. My dad’s father came from over there. That’s where I get my last name. None of us belong to any fuckin’ religion. That other guy that came here with him... that terrorist lover. We shoulda offed him too.”
“Are you nuts?” Pamela said. “You’re even dumber than you look, Jason. Y’all picked the wrong fuckin’ guy to screw around with. Don’t y’all know he’s some kinda fuckin’ nobility in England? People call him the Earl of something, or shit like that. Fuck, he’s a powerful prick. That’s what got me sent to jail... tryin’ to fuck around with him.”
“You’re shittin’ me!” Malik said. “I thought that guy was just some creep trying to make a buck outta that old beat down motel in Rogersville.”
“Fuck no,” Pamela said. “Christ, everybody in England goes around calling him My Lord. Hell, he even knows their prime minister and the queen.”
“Jeez fuckin’ Christ!” Malik said. “Looks like I’m fuckin’ screwed!”
“Y’all fucking right y’are,” Pamela said. “You’re damned lucky that judge let y’all out on bail pending appeal, after trying to stick the guy. Y’all gotta chance, now. Y’all better find some fuckin’ place to hide real quick and real good, and for a long time. Otherwise, y’all be in jail for a long stretch, maybe for life... maybe the death penalty.”
“Holy shit!” Malik said. “I gotta get the fuck outta here. What about y’all?”
“Now, I didn’t see nothin’ and I didn’t do nothin’,” Pamela reassured him. “That’s the best thing for y’all and for me.”
“Where do y’all think I should go?” Malik asked.
“What about Pakistan?” she asked. “Y’all still got family there, right?”
“Yeah. Some aunts and uncles and half-cousins are still around I think.”
“Will they let y’all hide there?”
“Of course,” Malik said. “They’re family. Now, I just gotta figure out how to get the fuck outta this country.”
“What about the others?” she asked. “How many... two or three others?”
“Two,” Malik said.
“What about ‘em?” she asked. “Are they still around... gonna rat on you maybe, to save their own skins?”
“One guy’s disappeared,” he replied. “I dunno where. Met him in the bar. Never saw him before. He was the ringleader, you know. Got things goin’. The other guy... his old man is some big shot in Rogersville. His dad owns a huge business... and he’s a county commissioner or something. The guy won’t blab. Besides, if he gits caught his old man can pull strings... get him off easy. Told me he done it before.”
“Will he cover your sorry ass?”
“I dunno. Maybe not... probably not.”
Pamela reached over for her purse and dug into it. “Here it is,” she said. The bed sheets fell, revealing two well-shaped breasts. “Stop it!” she said as Malik grabbed the nipple of one breast. She brushed his hand away and pulled a business card from her purse.
“Yeah, here it is... from a coffee shop I was at in London last year. I wrote down the name of a fella I met there. His family’s from some little town in Iran. Said he knows how to sneak people in and outta England. His name’s Izad Rajavi.”
“That’s interesting,” Malik said. “That’s very interesting.”
He paused, but decided to not say anything to Pamela about Rajavi being the name of Ahmed’s third attacker, and the ringleader.
“Come to think of it, now, I know how to get to England,” he continued. “A couple of security fellas at the port in Charleston owe me... I’ve gotten them coke from time to time. They’ll fix me up on a tramp steamer.
“Okay, so I think we gotta plan now, babe,” Malik said. “C’mere. Let’s do an encore.”
He grabbed Pamela’s hand and directed it down to his semi-erect penis.
“Whaddaya think of that?”
“I can put that to work!” she said grabbing hold of it. She let go and grabbed his scrotum, squeezing. “But don’t y’all ever call me ‘babe’ again... ya hear?”
“Yeah, yeah sure.”
They rolled over and began to have sex.
“Who’s gonna take over your coke customers?” Pamela asked after he’d entered her. She anticipated an opportunity to make some money.
“Tell ya later,” he said, panting.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Andrew Jackson Suite
Hale Springs Inn
“Very nice,” Jeremy Hill said.
The luxurious two-room suite had been transformed into a satellite office for Hill, Murdoch, Finch of Knoxville, TN.
“Yes indeed,” Paul said. He smiled. “Good accommodation helps ea
se the sting of being away from home.”
“I appreciate you making these arrangements,” the prominent criminal attorney replied. “The personal suite you arranged is very comfortable, as well. Thank you. You called it the James Polk Suite, I believe? I understand you’re in the Andrew Johnson Suite, right?”
Paul nodded and chuckled. “Yeah, Jackson and Johnson... it’s a bit confusing.”
They sat on opposite sides of a large mahogany desk. The business furniture Paul ordered had transformed the two-room suite into a professional office.
“As I mentioned earlier, I was able to see both my clients this morning,” Jeremy said.
“I’m pleased you didn’t waste any time,” Paul said. “You just got into town yesterday. I’m impressed.”
Jeremy smiled.
“Miss Naomi Hamilton,” Jeremy said opening a file. “We should be able to get her released quite soon, perhaps this afternoon.”
“That would be terrific!” Paul said. “Naomi’s worried sick about Isaac. She’ll want to go to see him in the hospital as soon as she’s released. They’re engaged.”
“I expect the district attorney’s office will drop the charge against her,” Jeremy said.
“Why’s that?” Paul asked.
“The ADA conceded they don’t have sufficient evidence to support the allegations. My guess is the sheriff’s department was trying to discredit her alibi for Mr. Dietrich. They gave me a copy of her sworn statement, after I insisted. I’d not worry about her if I were you.”
“That’s a relief,” Paul said.
“Which brings us to Mr. Isaac Dietrich,” Jeremy continued. “His bail application will be more challenging. Still, Miss Hamilton’s alibi for him is pretty convincing. She says that she was with him all night.”
“Yes,” Paul said. “They got engaged that night. On top of that, Isaac and I were in the breakfast room just after it opened around six.”
“I’m trying to move up Mr. Dietrich’s bail hearing,” Jeremy said. “As it stands, he’s not scheduled to appear in court for another week. I’ll look into that.”
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