Shadows and Lies

by Ronald Watkins

  A voice spoke from the darkness. "Mr. Carpenter. There is no cause for alarm. I only wish to speak with you. I regret that you were attacked. I had absolutely nothing to do with that. Please don't draw your weapon. For your sake rather than mine." The voice spoke with an immaculate English accent, bearing only the slightest vestige of Middle Eastern intonation. A lighter flickered momentarily. "I prefer we speak here rather than risk being seen together." Powers advanced cautiously into the night shadows. "I am here in peace, I assure you,” the figure said. “You know you are being watched?"

  "Yes, but I've never been able to make anyone out."

  "No. They are very good, almost too casual about it. Please remove your hand from the gun in your pocket and I will do the same. That is better for us both. My name is Salah Nasr, no relation to the late President Nassar's infamous murderer. I am Dr. Kandari's son-in-law. I suspected you might come back to the Burnside Apartments, so I waited and picked you up there. So did others, but they haven't seen me. Vous as quelque chose a me dire?” Powers did not respond. “You don’t know French, I see.”

  “Should I?” Nasr was a shadow in the mist.

  “In this circumstance, it is in your interest that you do not.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re no fool. You must suspect.”

  “That Dorat was a French agent? Certainly.”

  “Very good. And quite accurate.”

  “What was the point of your question?”

  “Don’t be naive, not after demonstrating how clever you are. My reason should be obvious. The French, with good reason, don’t trust your President. They believe he will act against their interests in the Gulf and I think they are right. They were hoping to learn in advance what he intends. Perhaps they succeeded and are closing their links.”

  “They’d kill their own agent?”

  “Mr. Carpenter, they kill one another all the time.”

  With the help of the glowing cigarette and improving night vision Powers could make Nasr out now. He was slender and as tall as he was, mid-30's with a trim mustache. He wore a dark raincoat and fedora. Most significant was a sense of the predator about him.

  "In view of circumstances I thought we should meet and talk, assuming you passed my little test, as I thought you would," Nasr continued.

  “You’d have killed me if I’d understood your question in French?”

  “Our conversation would have taken a different direction and in circumstances of my control until I was completely satisfied you are not also a French agent.”

  "What is it you want?"

  "For one thing to apologize on behalf of my family for the attack upon you and the young woman. I was told of events too late to stop them. I am relieved you were not seriously injured."

  "Who were they?"

  "Cousins. Hotheads is the word in America for them. They were here to avenge the murder of the Mareis, since they correctly concluded that whoever attacked Julie was also responsible for their deaths. They falsely assumed the man searching for her was also the killer. I knew better and would have told them so, if given the chance. You are all right then?"

  "Nothing serious. Maybe you think I'm responsible for the death of your cousin who attacked me?"

  "Not at all. I understand that was the work of a professional killer. Hisham made it clear to me that it was not you who killed his brother, but the intruder. What is his name?"

  Powers considered that a moment. "I have no reason to protect him, but then I have no reason to give him up either."

  Nasr smiled in the darkness. "Well spoken since he saved your life. Perhaps he will show himself again. Only this time he will face me. But that is not the reason for this meeting." He paused to smoke before continuing. The cigarette smelled the way they had when Powers was a boy and his father smoked three packs of unfiltered Lucky Strikes a day. It was strong, pungent and created in him an ache for a cigarette. "You know that Dr. Kandari and his family have fled the country?"

  "I called."

  "I was certain that was you. My sister and I are both grateful for your warning. I did not know she had been left behind or I would have given her the same advice. In my culture family and friendship come before patriotism and son-in-law is a much closer relationship than it is here in America. Dr. Kandari has been forced to leave his comfortable life here because he helped Julie. Nothing more. He says he believes you are a good man in a bad cause. I think perhaps he is right. Have you learned were Julie is hiding?"

  "Didn't she tell the doctor?"

  "No. She said it was somewhere safe and he asked not to be told, so no one could ever force it out of him. A wise precaution at the time, but outdated by events. I suspect that you have discovered the place." There was a sound from the street like the single drip of a leaky faucet and Nasr's eyes snapped towards it. He waited a full minute before continuing, "Do you know what a pawn is, Mr. Carpenter?"

  "It's Powers. Dan Powers."

  "Thank you. Do you know what a pawn is, Mr. Powers?"

  "In chess it's an expendable player with limited mobility. It is placed up front where it is vulnerable and to give protection to the powerful players."

  "Expendable. And usually expended." Nasr drew a leisurely pull on his cigarette. "You are a pawn in this game."

  "So I've come to understand."

  "Why haven't you gone into hiding? Isn't that the first reaction to a situation like this?"

  "For the same reason you are here. What good would it do? In time someone would come for me in the dead of night as they will for Dr. Kandari."

  "Precisely. He can hide for a while but there is no certainty he will be allowed to live, not if events remain as they are. Fortunately, I was not far away when he reached me."

  “What do you want?"

  "For a time I was part of the madness that has overtaken my country, then Dr. Kandari convinced me that killing, for whatever cause there, was pointless. The senseless slaughter is a recurring theme of our history that must play itself out. Now that so many are dead, perhaps the lunacy will stop of its own, as it appears at last to have done. My dear cousin Julie was playing at a dangerous game. I warned her father but Mr. Marei trusted your President. I believed he would know better. Such men, of course, can never be trusted. Now Mr. Marei and his wife are dead. Their daughter is next you realize. That is the real reason you are on this errand."

  "I'm no longer searching for her for them, but for myself. I need to know what she knows if I am to find any way of saving myself – and her."

  "You do understand you are being used?"

  "By whom?"

  Nasr laughed lightly. "By them of course. By those with power. It is always the same."

  "But who in power?"

  "Any of them. All of them. You can trust none of those people. Part of the game in which they have thrust you requires that you be off balance. You have suffered a recent loss perhaps?"

  "Yes."

  "As I thought. They know how it is played. They will have placed someone close to you, to keep you vulnerable. They need you for their purposes, but they do not want you to have time to reason events out. A woman is the most common device."

  "I hadn't considered that."

  "Of course not. That is in part why you were selected. You are distant from them, so there is no connection that later can hurt those using you, and you possess the key skills they require, but not the necessary experience to realize what they are actually doing."

  "I see no choice but to follow this through."

  "I must reluctantly agree. When you have done that, then perhaps Julie, Dr. Kandari and his family, and of course you, will be safe. But the odds are very long, and against you."

  "Yes."

  "You must assume everything you say aloud to one of them is known to all, as is every person you have seen, everywhere you go. Except, I believe, this conversation. Julie's apartment will be wired as will anywhere they have you staying. Every telephone you could conceivably
use will be listened to. The French will be monitoring Dorat’s apartment, unless the police located the devices."

  “They found three. They were in the walls, so I think they were video as well as audio.”

  “Quite.” Nasr extinguished his cigarette with his thumb and finger then placed it into his coat pocket. "I will be nearby when you find her, alive or dead. We will see to her either way." He sniffed the early morning air as if testing it for the spore of danger. "Do you know backgammon?" Nasr asked.

  "I've played it a few times."

  "It is from my part of the world and remains popular among people. It requires skill, but unlike chess, even an inexperienced player with luck can win on occasion. There is always the element of the uncertain in backgammon. If you roll doubles, especially sixes, and continue to roll them, even the first time player will defeat a champion." He drew his coat tightly at the collar as he slipped deeper into the shadows. "Be very careful from this point on. Very careful. Trust no one. You now know what they wanted you to learn. Once they learn it..." His voice trailed off, then from the blackness he said, "You must roll double sixes, Mr. Powers, and keep rolling them.”

  TUESDAY, August 14

  United Wire Service, New York, N.Y.

  FLASH FLASH FLASH

  First Lady Rebecca Gordon Tufts is tonight's keynote speaker at the Democratic National Convention. In the style initiated by Elizabeth Dole, wife of 1996 Republican nominee Bob Dole, she is expected to to speak in talk-show host fashion, a style made to order for her personable manner. Once viewed as the President's greatest asset, in these final weeks of his re-election bid, Mrs. Tufts is now struggling to reestablish her formerly influential role with the American people, though she remains popular with the party faithful.

  MORE TO FOLLOW.....

  THIRTEEN

  Cleveland Park, 4:39 a.m.

  It was still dark and raining lightly in a steady wind when Powers located a sheltered pay telephone two blocks from the brownstone. He called Chicago with his personal calling card. The answering voice was heavy with sleep. “This better be fuckin’ good, that’s all I gots to say.”

  “Sheila there with you or you dump her for the blond bimbo with hooters?”

  “Danny? What the hell you doin’ calling... Just a sec. I gotta pee and change phones.”

  It was fully five minutes before Carmine Gennarelli come back on the line. A vaguely metallic cast to his voice said he was using the scrambler. “Danny, what the hell you doin’ calling me and talking like that when you know I’m in bed with Sheila? She got ears like you won’t believe. I think she’s got an extra set of eyes too. That skirt you mentioned is long gone. Last I heard she was dancing in San Antonio. Had to dye her pussy hair blond so the spicks’d think she was all natural. I don’t think they give a shit about those bowling ball tits I paid for.”

  “Sheila’s too good for you. I just might take her off your hands.”

  “Oh, jeeze Danny, I heard about that. I’m sorry as hell. I know you was doin’ your job, but that’s another one I owe you ‘cause it had something to do with our business. Your own fuckin’ family! Sorry, I mean no disrespect using that kinda language. You heard Pokrovsky died suddenly, didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah. Had a real tough break. Somebody squirted hair tonic all over him in his cell while he was trying to take a dump then lit him like a torch. I heard he hung on for three days but then knocked off. I know it ain’t much, Danny, but there it is.”

  “I don’t care, Carmine. It won’t bring back either Gloria or Brian.”

  “Yeah. Ain’t that the truth?” There was an awkward pause. “That Zorya guy, guess what? He’s the second vice-president of Belorus, whatever the fuck that is. So whataya need? I know you ain’t callin’ to check up on San Antonio stage non-talent.”

  “I could use some help.”

  “Anything you need, jus’ ask. Money, a broad, a tap, muscle, you want I should get some sap iced just give me a name and place, you know that.”

  “Nothing like that. I need a car. A clean one. The catch is I’m in Washington.”

  “What the fuck you doin’ up there? Shit, it does nothing but rain from what I hear.”

  “D.C., Carmine.”

  “Oh, those assholes. What you doin’ in that shit hole?”

  “A favor.”

  “This isn’t soundin’ good Danny. Doin’ personal stuff is not smart, you know what I mean? You sure about this?”

  “It’s too late to change my mind now. How long for the car?”

  “Let me think. Okay. I got it. You’re at the corner of P Street and 29th Avenue. Assuming those shitheads answer the fuckin’ phone, you got a car in ten minutes. If they aren’t answering I got heads to knock later but you’ll still have a car inside of 20 minutes. That fast enough for you?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “You need anything special with it?”

  “No, I’m set. How’s that call trace program you got working?”

  “Good enough to fix you, weren’t it? My kid’s a fuckin’ genius and only 15 fuckin’ years old. I’m startin’ to understand how those asshole feds keep puttin’ so many stupid wise guys in the joint. Anything else you need?”

  “Three names. First, Chester Shanken, called Chesty, and a guy working with him, last name Lily. Shanken’s supposed to be retired military and Lily’s rumored to be on loan from the military.” He gave descriptions. “Also dig up what you can on Martin Karp, that’s with a K. You know what I’m looking for.”

  “Not sayin’ I won’t do it, ‘cause you know I’m gonna, but why not ask the guys with badges or those spooky fellas I know you know.”

  “You’re more secure.”

  “Ain’t that what I been tellin’ you? So when you gonna come work for me? I’ll make you a rich man.”

  “I already was rich, Carmine, then my family died in a fire.”

  “Yeah. What the hell you involved with there, Danny? I’m worried, I don’ mind sayin.’”

  “I wish I knew. Let me give you my cell phone number. Call today. This morning if you can.”

  “Sure, sure. With you it’s always now. You gotta slow down and smell the flowers, drink a little wine, you understand?”

  “I was working on it. I’d like to get back to it soon. Carmine, you be real careful how you do this. These are killers and they have friends.”

  Carmine snorted into the telephone. “I got my own friends. Anyways, those three ain’t gonna find out who’s askin’ questions.”

  “You need anything I can do?”

  “That ain’t necessary, you know that.”

  “What have you got?”

  “Since you asked. You remember Willy the Weasel?”

  “Sure. Always got a cigarette in his hand. He’s pulling 20 to life at –.”

  “A bum rap if you ask me but, yeah, that’s the one. He’s got the big C, in the lungs. Briefcase Oscar says it’s going take three to four months to spring him on a hardship appeal, and by then, Willy’s gonna either be pushing up a bed of flowers or so far gone they’re gonna take him by ambulance from the joint to the hospital to die.”

  “I’ll make a call. No promises but he should be out inside a week if the doctor’s report is bona fide.”

  “I’m hurt, Danny. You think I’d lie to you on a deal like this? You bein’ like my own flesh and blood?”

  “It’s only because we’re not talking face-to-face I risk mentioning that; you’ve done it before.”

  Carmine laughed. “You’re a card, Danny, a real card. That was before, like I keep tellin’ you. Now it’s right from the top of the deck for you. So you ever gonna tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ in D.C.?”

  “I doubt it. Don’t forget what I said about those men. People are dying on me almost as fast as I talk to them.”

  “I take on the whole fuckin’ Roosky mob and you want I should worry about feds with shiny badges? If you was smart, and frankly I never been tempted
to think you much were, you let me send you a coupla boys. Hang on to the deuce that’ll bring the car ‘til they get to you. I got a new one right off the boat from Palermo. Supposed to be tougher than nails. I’d like for you to see him make his moves and tell me what you think.”

  “You trying to protect me or sponge a free employee evaluation?”

  “Family, Danny. It’s all family. No employees here. And why shouldn’t I ask what you think of the guy? Shit, you act like I was puttin’ you out or somethin’. I think you should let me send ‘em anyways and some others. They’re good boys.”

  “I’ll think about it. There’s something else I might need and it’s a big one.”

  “Danny, you want botha my nuts, I might think about it for maybe two seconds, but if you only wanted one I’d cut it off for you myself faster than a ten-buck whore can drop my pants. Just tell me.” When Powers was finished Carmine whistled. “You oughta get the fuck outta there now. I mean it, Danny. You shouldna ever messed with stuff like you gotta be in. I’ll see to it, sure. No problem. I know you remember, Gina? Things ain’t going so good with her right now. She still talks about you. Maybe I’ll have her see to this, you know? Take good care of you. Just let me talk you into takin’ a little vacation in Chi tell this blows ova, and I got a few days to see to the rest. Whataya say?”

  “Get back into bed with Sheila and for once why don’t you do some of the work.”

  “Now what the fuck is that suppose to mean?” Carmine’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Yeah, she been complainin’ to you, or what?”

  Northern Virginia, 5:43 a.m.

  Carmine was going to be knocking heads since it was 26 minutes before the car arrived, a luminescent maroon Cadillac El Dorado. From what Powers had observed the mob was working overtime to corner the market on flashy Caddies. The two skinny kids with it wearing leather jackets and crew cuts with shaggy sides were so respectful and frightened, Powers almost felt sorry for them.