Chapter 74
“So what did you think of Prince Khalid?” Billycan asked Glenda. They were in the car, going back to the US Attorney’s office.
“He’s clever, I’ll give you that, but he holds his cards close to his chest and doesn’t let you know what his intentions are in circumstances that could be dangerous not only for him but for whoever is beside him.”
“I see. You might be right in your opinion of him, but you must admit that he’ll be a good witness for us.”
“He’s truthful, yes, but I would have to watch how I phrase the questions, though, otherwise I could be in for a surprise.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well...” Glenda paused. “He can’t seem to be able to answer questions all at once. It takes several tries to get the whole story out of him.”
“You’re right. He’s not used to divulge his thoughts unless he’s pressed to do it.”
Marcel had listened to the conversation and now turned his body in the front seat to look at Billycan. “But he comes up with the right assumption in the end, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he does,” Billycan agreed. “What he deduced about Sadir plotting to have Gilford kill Meshullam after Meshullam would have taken him out, and then concluding that Sadir had probably arranged for Ms Kartz’s elimination in Vancouver, was right on the money.”
“But can you prove any of it is the question,” Glenda put in pensively.
“I think we can. We have three witnesses to confirm that Prince Khalid was sent to confront Meshullam. Plus, we have Sadir renting an apartment adjacent to Talya’s. Then we have Mossad that could confirm their suggestions to have the prince eliminated—on Sadir’s advice.”
Marcel didn’t know about this. He raised an eyebrow. “Is Mossad prepared to come forward then? And who’s going to be their spokesman?”
“I don’t know yet. But Van Dams left a message on my phone saying Mossad wanted to be involved in the trial.”
“That’s going to be interesting,” Glenda remarked. “I’d be curious to hear how much they’d be ready to say on the stand.”
Chapter 75
Salamir looked particularly uncomfortable. He was dressed in a suit, which fitted him perfectly but seemed to be the prime reason for his discomfort. Sitting in the witness chair, he looked definitely ill at ease. He had spent a day with Khalid and Billycan answering numerous questions regarding their father’s involvement in the CIA’s operation in West Africa. From the little Salamir knew; Billycan and Khalid managed to re-construct the chain of events that eventually led Khalid to be embroiled in the Sadir Affair.
Billycan rose from his chair and approached the witness. He knew how frightened Salamir was. He was going to treat him with kid gloves.
“Mr. Sahab, I would like first to thank you for travelling from your home in Nouakchott all the way to Washington to attend this trial.”
“De rien, Monsieur Billycan,” Salamir replied in Mauritania’s second language—French.
“Let the record show that Mr. Sahab acknowledged the gratefulness of this court for his attendance. Now, Mr. Sahab, I’d like you to turn your attention to the time you first met Madame Kartz. When was this exactly?”
“My brother bring her down from Paris in June of two years past, Monsieur Billycan. I seen her first time then. I am sorry, my English not very good, Monsieur.”
“Don’t apologize, Mr. Sahab. You’re doing very well. So, Madame Kartz came down from Paris in June two years ago and do you know why she came down to visit?”
“My brother...”
Billycan raised a hand. “I apologize, Mr. Sahab, but when you say “my brother”, do you mean Prince Khalid Saif Al-Fadir?”
“Yes, Prince Khalid Sheik Sahab Saif Al-Fadir, yes.” Judge Silverman looked down at the court reporter to see if she got the whole name in the record. He actually had had difficulty distinguishing all of the syllables himself. Receiving an affirmative nod from the young woman, Silverman gestured to Billycan to proceed, “Go ahead, Mr. Billycan.”
These interruptions did nothing to calm the witness down. He seemed more agitated as each minute passed. Besides which, the silence in the courtroom was utterly oppressive.
Billycan looked kindly at Salamir and asked again the reason for Madame Kartz’s visit to Mauritania.
“My brother, Prince Khalid, said Madame Kartz attack in Paris and we need take her to the desert.”
“You mean travel through the desert with Madame Kartz?”
“Yes, yes. We take her with caravan and protect her from criminals.”
“Good. How long did you stay in the desert with Madame Kartz?”
“Maybe week, maybe less. Yes, maybe week.”
“And when you arrived at Nbak in the Sahel, south of the Sahara, what did you do then?”
“Caravan say goodbye to Madame Kartz and I give her knife for protection.”
That was Billycan’s cue. He went to the evidence table and took the knife to Salamir. His reaction was instantaneous. Seeing it, Salamir wanted to grab it. Billycan again held up a hand and moved the knife out of reach. “I am sorry; Mr. Sahab, but you cannot touch the knife. You can only look at it and tell me if it is the knife you gave Madame Kartz. Please.”
He held the knife in its plastic envelope closer to Salamir for him to look at it.
“Yes, it is knife I make for her. Yes, it my work.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sahab. Can you also tell us why this knife is so special to you?”
“Yes, yes—this is very old way to make knife. For protection. Not an arm...”
“You mean a weapon?”
“Yes... It for protection. Very sharp and straight—not bow like knife to fight.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sahab. That was very good and helpful. Just one more question; did you see Madame Kartz again after she left the caravan?”
Salamir shook his head. “No, Monsieur Billycan, I never seen our lady again.”
Billycan had heard it, but he needed to confirm if what he heard was correct. He swung on his heels and returned to the witness after replacing the knife on the evidence table. “Did you say, ‘our lady’? And why did you say that?”
“Madame Kartz is lady for us. She come with us and accept my brother invitation to come to the desert, to water méhari and care for animals, same in Qur’an.”
Looking at the jury’s questioning faces, Billycan knew that none of the members had understood what Salamir had just described. The US Attorney turned to face Silverman. “Your Honour, may I be permitted to explain for the court what Mr. Sahab described just now?”
“Yes, Mr. Billycan, the court will be very interested to hear this. But, I urge you to be as brief as possible and not waste the court’s time with your explanation.”
“Yes, Your Honour.” He turned and took a few steps toward the jury. “Ladies and Gentlemen, you heard the witness tell you that Ms. Kartz accepted Prince Khalid’s invitation to travel to the Sahara Desert with him and to “water the méhari and care for the animals.” Most of the jurors nodded. “Mr. Sahab and his brother, Prince Khalid, are Touaregs, which means they were born in a tribe of the desert that ancestrally has broken away from mainstream Islamic customs and have retained the original version of the Koran. According to the words of Mohammed in the Koran, women are to be respected but have to perform numerous duties for the tribe and during a caravan’s travel. One of the duties is for the women to water and feed the méhari, which is a camel. The animal is taller than the usual beast you see in the zoo and has a longer stride. In the Koran, when a woman is invited to join the tribe, she is asked (not ordered as some of you may think) to water and feed the méhari so to demonstrate to the tribe that she will participate in the chores. In this instance, it is important for you to understand that Ms. Kartz was not kidnapped or forced to accompany the caravan. She accepted to be part of the Touaregs’ day to day life.”
Seeing that he finished with his explanation, and as the US Attorney retu
rned his attention to a befuddled Salamir, Silverman said, “Thank you, Mr. Billycan. Please proceed.”
“Thank you, Your Honour.” He approached the witness again. “Mr. Sahab, I thank you again for your patience. I will not ask you anymore questions now, but my colleague, Mr. Simmons may have questions for you.”
Salamir nodded and appeared a little more relaxed, although the gaze he shot in Simmons’s direction and the look he threw at Sadir were not the most amicable Billycan had ever observed. He knew Salamir, if allowed, would have throttled the accused and killed him right there and then.
Billycan turned to Silverman. “I have no more questions for this witness at this time, Your Honour, but would like to reserve the right to call him again to the stand at a later date.”
“So noted, Mr. Billycan. Mr. Simmons, your witness.”
“I have no question for this witness at this time, but would like to reserve the right to cross examine Mr. Sahab’s testimony later.”
“Very well then. Mr. Sahab, you may step down.” Salamir looked up at the judge, visibly surprised that he didn’t have to stay any longer on the stand or answer any more questions. He hesitated, stepped down and stopped by the defendant’s table. “رحمه الله على روحك, May Allah have mercy on your soul,” he said and then went out of the courtroom quickly, straight to Khalid’s side as he passed the door.
“Don’t talk now, Salamir,” were Khalid’s first words to him in Arabic. “Come and sit down with us.” He indicated a bench where Uncle Abdullah was sitting, his arms crossed over his chest. “We will talk when we return to the hotel.”
Salamir nodded and went to sit by his uncle, who smiled at him. “I am sure you did very well, Salamir. I know Allah guided your steps,” Uncle Abdullah said reassuringly. “It will be Khalid’s turn soon, and we will stay with Mr. Gilford here for a while.” He raised his eyes to Mark who had accompanied the trio to court that morning. Leaning against the wall across from the bench, the three men’s interactions intrigued Mark. Uncle Abdullah was like the soul of the family; he behaved kindly but always directed his offspring firmly to do the proper thing in any circumstances. As for Khalid, he was a masterful figure and distributed his kindness or care sparsely.
Chapter 76
During the lunch break, Simmons decided it was about time he had another talk with his client. The odds were stacking pretty high against him and Simmons didn’t like Sadir staunch attitude. He cared only to stay in prison—for how long didn’t matter—and not to see the outside of his cell until he was sure his family was safe and Lypsick was out of the way. He didn’t want to reveal any details of his connections with any member of the federal agencies or that of Mossad. Simply put—Sadir was not talking.
“Okay, Mr. Sadir, you’ve heard what we’re up against for almost three weeks of trial, and I can’t do my job if you won’t talk. We’ve got the Prince on the stand this afternoon, and I tell you right now, he’ll bury you. Billycan is digging your grave as we speak. He’s not going to ease up on the prosecution until he hears from you.”
Sadir looked up and then down at his lawyer as he sat across from him. “I keep on thinking that since I didn’t pull the trigger, I am not responsible. That’s what you’ve got to show them.”
“You’re wrong, Mr. Sadir! That’s not the way it works. You have instigated the murder of Mr. Ishmael Assor, which makes you legally responsible for his death. The same applies for Ms. Kartz. Not only did you intend to have a Mossad agent assassinate her, but, when that didn’t work, you also rented an apartment adjacent to her place with the intent, again, to arrange for her elimination. And these clear demonstrations of intent, Mr. Sadir, are what makes you responsible for her injuries and attempted murder.
“Whether I talk or not, Billycan and all his lawyers haven’t got anything on me.”
“Except—and again—showing that you intended to do away with no less than four people. Billycan has one compelling witness who’s going to see you through to the needle, Mr. Sadir.”
“If you mean Prince Khalid, he’s not going to do anything to me. We only talked once and I helped him do what he wanted to do all along.” Sadir’s face reddened. “He wanted to find Meshullam and do away with him. I only showed him the way... with CSIS’s assistance, if you recall?”
“It might be his word against yours but…, Billycan can show links between you and the four crimes without much problems.”
“If you’re talking about these instant messages again and all that; that doesn’t prove anything.”
Simmons shook his head. “You keep on focusing on flimsy evidence, which, I have to agree with you, do not prove much, but you must listen to the witnesses, Mr. Sadir, they hold compelling evidence showing intent on your part. That’s what you’ve got to focus on.”
“But they’ve got nothing of this compelling evidence or my showing intent of the two murders on the Marianne, have they? I had nothing to do with that.”
“Wrong again, Mr. Sadir. They will show that you instigated the murder of Ms. Kartz if she were to find the Marianne and the two CIA agents on board the trawler. They had their orders to kill her, didn’t they? The prosecution will easily show that you were the one who intended to have Ms. Kartz killed. If she and Agent Gilford did away with the two agents, it was in self-defence, Mr. Sadir.”
“Why then, if you knew how this was going to turn out, did you accept to have the witnesses added to the list…, and this damning evidence?”
Simmons knew the man across from him was ready to blame anyone for whatever he had done in life. Lay blame on someone else for your mistakes was Sadir’s modus operandi. “Because I did what I was told, Mr. Sadir. You didn’t want me—again—to make any objections or to have motions filed against the introduction of new evidence or the addition of witnesses to the list. You wanted, and I repeat, ‘remain under the protection of the law.’ So that’s what I did.”
“Maybe so, but I didn’t know any of what you’ve just told me.” Sadir stopped, trying to intimidate his lawyer with his piercing glare. It didn’t work. Simmons had seen all this before.
“I tried explaining this to you last week, but you didn’t even want to see me until it was too late. Besides, we’ve got bigger problems than trying to undo the past—which we can’t anyway.” Simmons paused to watch his client’s reaction. “Mossad—you do remember them, don’t you?” Sadir stared. “Well…, they’ve just advised Van Dams that they’ve accepted to assist the US Attorney in the prosecution.”
Sadir’s red face was turning to crimson rapidly. He pounded his fist on the table. “They can’t do that! They’ve promised me…” Sadir stopped abruptly. However, it was too late; the words were out of his mouth.
“Ha-ha! Finally, we’re getting somewhere. What did they promise you? Have you had any contact with them lately?”
“I’m not saying anything anymore!” Sadir crossed his arms over his chest. The staunch attitude had returned at a gallop. “You can do whatever you think is best, Mr. Simmons, but that’s all you’re gonna get out of me.”
Simmons sniggered. “Have you forgotten who menaced your family? It wasn’t the CIA, was it? I’ve told you I got a discovery motion admitted last week and the subject of that motion was that Billycan discovered that Lypsick is a Mossad agent.” He paused to look into the face of his client. He was groaning and grimacing. “So, if you hope to play this hand without losing everything, you’re not going to succeed. Just let me talk to Billycan and give him the name of the person who’s been keeping you on a short leash for this long.”
Sadir got up and went to lean against one of the walls of the visitors’ room. “If I do that, they’ll find a way to eliminate me, even in here.” His eyes travelled around the room. “Lypsick is a snake. He’ll find a way... And if I don’t, I won’t see my family alive again. Mossad will send someone else to get rid of everyone dear to me. You’ve got no idea what these bloody Jews are capable of. They’ve got no mercy.”
“And
you don’t either, Mr. Sadir,” Simmons said, getting up from the chair and walking out without another word.
Chapter 77
Billycan, Glenda, Marcel and Darlene were sitting around the conference table in the US Attorney’s office. They had ordered some lunch and were eating their Chinese take-out from the cartons.
Glenda stopped munching, wiped her mouth and looked at Darlene. “I’ve never thanked you for getting Ms Kartz’s knife to me—but better late than never. Thanks.”
“Glad to be of help,” Darlene replied, trying to take some more noodles out of the little box. “What did you think of Talya and Mark Gilford’s statements about the second attack—the one that happened the next morning—when Mark was shot in the butt?”
“Umm…, yes…, but that’s the only information I’ve got on that incident. There was no police report on it…, so I can’t do anything with it.”
“But someone must have ordered the guys to take puck-shots at Talya’s boat—couldn’t we ask Van Dams to look into it?”
Marcel was eating an egg roll with a fork and knife—no chopsticks for the Frenchman.
“Umm…, umm…, no…, you can’t...” Billycan shook his head and swallowed. “You can’t expect the CIA to investigate something that happened in Florida, or something that seemed to emanate from the FBI.”
“So, you think the FBI was playing games…?”
Another bite of egg roll went into Marcel’s mouth.
“You heard it on Monday... What I’d like to know is who’s this Verduccio character.” Billycan looked at Glenda pointedly. Marcel watched from over his brow, his head still down on his plate. “I asked Glenda here—but she’s got no answer for us.”
The dagger hit the mark. Glenda exploded, “What do you want from me, Billycan? I told you, I have only the statements from Ms Kartz and Gilford, which you read obviously, and nothing else. I can’t just ask the Jacksonville police to investigate something that only exists on paper...”
WASHINGTON DC: The Sadir Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 1) Page 31
