The Hunt for Truth

by Sury Patru Viswam

  27

  “Coors or Sam Adams?” Edgar asked, holding the refrigerator door open.

  “Seriously! You don’t have any local ones?” Arya frowned on Edgar’s taste. “I can’t believe you fell for the corporate beer.”

  “You are the last person who should pontificate. For God’s sake, you have your donuts from Dunkin,” Edgar made an exaggerated gesture.

  “What’s wrong with Dunkin? Don’t you know that Dunkin’s franchises are run by locals?” Arya sighed.

  Edgar raised his hands and made an apology gesture. “I give up. Can we move on now?”

  Arya chuckled. “We can after you hand me a Sam Adams. The name goes with our case.”

  “I feel sorry for your future husband,” Edgar snickered, as he handed her a Sam Adams.

  “Don’t be. You know he would be getting all of this!” Arya placed her hands on her hips and made a sweeping gesture towards her body. They both started laughing at the absurdity of their exchange.

  They were sitting in the living room of Edgar’s house and had a stack of pictures spread out in front of them. The photos were all taken by Kate Halladay when she had Samir followed in the last month.

  Arya picked up a photo from the stack and looked at it closer. It was a photo of Samir and Nafisa entering a restaurant named Dar Marrakesh in Norristown. From the name of the restaurant, Arya presumed it is a Moroccan restaurant. Marrakesh is one of the major cities in Morocco, and it is located in the foothills of the snow-capped Atlas Mountains. The city is known for its bustling market, and it is one of the most vibrant cities in Africa. In high school, when Arya’s friend visited Morocco for the summer, she showed her pictures of the famous Jemaa el-Fnaa square, Manera Gardens, and royal palaces to her. When her friend returned to New York, she didn’t have any kind words about the city. She was furious about the town, as her favorite handbag was stolen by pickpocketers in the Jemma el-Fnaa square. And, to add to that, she was not a fan of the scorching heat and the sea of relatives she had to visit in her mother’s country. Her biggest complaint was a lack of air conditioning in markets and other public places. Arya was shocked to learn that she didn’t visit any of the historic palaces, tombs, and gardens of the city. Arya’s friend committed the unbelievable sin of not visiting one of the most famous cities in the world, Casablanca. Arya remembered leaving her friend baffled when she asked her, “Did you visit the White House during your vacation?” Casablanca was originally named Casabranca, and it meant ‘White House’ in Portuguese. Arya was quite a history buff during her school years and was quite smitten with all these quirky facts.

  “I know this place,” Edgar said, referring to the Moroccan restaurant. “I went there once, maybe a year ago, with one of my college buddies. The food was amazing, especially their couscous, tagine, and mint tea. It was delicious.”

  “I think we need to pay a visit to this Moroccan restaurant,” Arya said, holding her gaze on the pictures that were spread in front of her. “I count four, five, actually six pictures of them going to that place in the last month. It looks like the place they hung out the most.” Arya shifted her gaze towards Edgar.

  Edgar nodded. “Yes, it looks like they visited the motel only once,” Edgar said, looking at the picture of Samir and Nafisa standing in the motel’s parking lot.

  “Definitely more than once,” Arya corrected Edgar. “Remember Tom’s conversation with the hotel clerk.”

  Edgar gestured in agreement. “Yeah, the one that kickstarted Kate spying on Samir.”

  “You know what I can’t understand? Why is this guy pretending to be Omar Raqqa?” Arya asked, tapping on the picture that showed three people walking into a mosque – Nafisa, Samir, and Omar Raqqa. Omar and Samir were both dressed in white long sleeve thobe dresses, traditional attire for men in the Muslim world.

  “Beats me,” Edgar shrugged.

  Arya picked up another photo from the stack. There were four people in the picture – Samir, Sania, Nafisa, and Omar Raqqa.

  “This was taken when Omar, Nafisa, Samir, and Sania dined together in the Marrakesh restaurant.” Arya handed the picture to Edgar. “Sania confirmed that Samir introduced this man as Omar Raqqa – his boss in Aries Financials.”

  “Strange, I don’t get it.” Edgar shook his head. “If Samir was cheating with Nafisa, why was he introducing her to Sania?”

  “Is that your overwhelming concern?” Arya rolled her eyes in disbelief.

  “The main question to be asked here is…; do Samir and this Omar guy have something to do with the disappearance of the real Omar Raqqa? If so, why?” Arya let the question hang for a moment.

  Edgar silently thought about it for a moment when a thought flashed through his mind, making him jump. “Do you have the picture of the break-in in Marisomo?”

  “Yes, I brought the Omar file home.” Arya referred to Omar Raqqa’s case file provided by the Norristown detectives – Jimmy Russel and Lyndsey Tanner. “Why?”

  “Get it; I will tell you.” Edgar gestured Arya to hurry up and get the file.

  Arya flipped open a cardboard box that she brought from the precinct and pulled a black binder from it. “Here,” Arya said, handing the Omar case file to Edgar.

  Edgar hurriedly flipped through a couple of sections, and he paused when a large brown-colored envelope stared right at him. Edgar pulled a set of photos from the envelope that the closed-circuit cameras captured during the Marisomo break-in. It showed pictures of a mystery man dressed in a hooded jacket, leaving the secured section with a rectangular-shaped case, possibly made of aluminum. The man seemed to be highly knowledgeable about the cameras’ placement, as he managed to keep his face hidden and not captured by the cameras during the break-in.

  “What are you looking for?” Arya was curious, looking at Edgar’s expression.

  “Give me that photo,” Edgar said hurriedly, gesturing towards the mosque photo.

  Arya reached to her right and plucked the mosque photo from the pile and handed it to Edgar.

  Edgar placed both the photos side by side.

  “Jesus!” Edgar coiled back and covered his mouth to gesture his shock.

  “What the fuck happened?” Arya frowned, gesturing her puzzlement.

  “Look at both these pictures. Do you see any similarity?” Edgar wanted to see if Arya would come to the same conclusion as him.

  Arya squinted, trying to focus on the picture. “Shit!” Arya’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Unbelievable.” In the mosque photo, Arya noticed that Omar had a large scar on the back of his hand, and a similar scar at the same spot could be seen on the man who broke into Marisomo.

  “You know what it means: the fake Omar Raqqa was the man who broke into Marisomo,” Edgar proclaimed.

  Arya’s eyes narrowed as she tried to make the next logical connection. “Does it mean Samir was involved in the break-in?” Arya let that question hang as they both searched for the answer.

  “I don’t know if we can say that yet,” Edgar responded.

  “Okay, let us see what we know for sure,” Arya opened. “Samir worked in Aries Financials, and, for some unknown reasons, he lied about his position to Sania. Towards the end of May, the real Omar Raqqa, who happened to work in the same firm as Samir, disappeared during his business trip in the Middle East. At that time of his disappearance, he was working on the Marisomo merger and had access to their internal network.”

  Edgar’s eyes narrowed, focusing on Arya’s train of thought.

  Arya, taking the visible cue from Edgar, continued. “A week after Omar Raqqa’s disappearance, the fake Omar Raqqa broke into Marisomo’s secured facility in Philly to steal a rectangular aluminum case, which was shipped from Pakistan.” Arya deliberately paused to stress her following question. “Who could have possibly provided the access codes to fake Omar Raqqa?”

  “Samir Tariq?” Edgar realized that Arya was alluding to Samir being the possible link between these events. “Wait a minute. Samir was not even in that real Omar Raq
qa’s group. How do you think he got access to it? He was just a service technician.”

  Arya closed her eyes like she was speculating the scenario in her mind. “Remember the guy who committed suicide? He had access to the records.”

  “Did I hear you right? Are you now speculating that your best friend’s husband might have killed him to get his access codes and passed it onto Omar?” Edgar sighed reflectively. “That is some cold-blooded stuff. Do you think your friend would have married someone like that?”

  Arya leaned back on the couch, with her arms crossed, and reflected about Edgar’s question. “I don’t know if Samir was the killer. Omar might have been the one who killed, but my gut tells me that Samir was somehow involved with this whole scheme. Look at the extent of all his lies. He seemed to have created an entirely different identity for himself. Why would he have done that?”

  Edgar took a rather large slug of his beer, emptying the bottle. “I think you are right. This whole thing stinks. Samir might be or might not be a killer, but it definitely looks like he was involved somehow.”

  Arya fell silent, realizing how this revelation would devastate Sania.

  “What do you think was in that case?” Edgar asked.

  Arya’s gaze shifted to the photo of Omar leaving the Marisomo facility with a rectangular aluminum case in his hand. “It must be something damn important to kill one or two people for it — if we presume that the real Omar Raqqa is also dead.”

  28

  “What are these photos?” Arya pointed to a photo that showed Samir talking to two people in front of a gas station.

  “Culver City. Kate mentioned that Samir traveled to Los Angeles a few times in the last month, and during one of his visits, she had him tailed by one of her PI friends.”

  “I guess he didn’t lie to Sania about going to Los Angeles. He just lied about the reason for his trip.” Arya sighed, feeling sorry for Sania.

  “I guess I was wrong about the reason for his trip. He didn’t have a girl on the side in California; he traveled there to meet up with these two guys.” Edgar pointed at another photo, which showed Samir walking into an apartment with the same two people.

  “What is he doing?” Arya asked, looking at a different photo that showed Samir carrying a small TV into the apartment. “Is he gifting them a TV?”

  “Guess where that picture was taken?” Edgar paused, fueling Arya’s curiosity. “San Diego.”

  “What? What the hell was he doing in San Diego?” Arya threw her hands to express her perplexity over Samir’s behavior.

  Edgar shrugged, gesturing that he was on the same boat as Arya. He had no clue, at least not yet. He was hoping his friend from Culver City would be able to find out something that would make Samir’s behavior meaningful.

  “Do you think there is a connection between Marisomo and what Samir was doing in Culver City?” Edgar asked, wondering about Samir’s trips to California.

  “I don’t know; it would be a stretch to connect them. There is no Omar in any of these photos taken in Culver City or in San Diego,” Arya answered.

  Edgar stood up, stretching his hands towards the sky. “I think I need another beer. What about you?”

  “When have I ever said no to beer?” Arya took a big slug and handed the empty bottle to Edgar.

  As Edgar opened the refrigerator, a question popped in his mind that made him freeze.

  Arya seeing, Edgar standing still next to the refrigerator, asked, “Are you going to get that beer or what?”

  Edgar turned around and walked towards Arya without bringing beer from the refrigerator. He had an expression on his face that suggested that he was lost in his own thoughts and didn’t hear Arya’s previous remark.

  “If stealing that package from Marisomo was the motive, why do you think Samir is still involved with Omar?” Edgar’s gaze landed on Arya. “It had been more than three months since the break-in in Marisomo. Why are they still hanging out?”

  “Do you think they got something else cooking?”

  “I definitely think so,” Edgar said with determination. “You know what bothers me…?” Edgar moved closer to the stack of photos. He tapped at a picture of Samir, Sania, Omar, and Nafisa walking out of the Moroccan restaurant. “Why are they still pretending to be working together in Aries Financials?”

  “What are you thinking?” Arya asked.

  “It should be difficult for Samir to keep up this charade. Sooner or later, he would have to come clean about leaving Aries Financials. Why not do it earlier? Why keep this charade going?”

  “Maybe he was waiting for Sania to have the baby before breaking the news,” Arya offered an explanation.

  Edgar tilted his head to the side and held his gaze at Arya. “Are you serious?”

  Arya held up her hands. “I know…. I might be taking a charitable view on Samir’s intentions.”

  “I would say you are making him altruistic. Looking at the facts in front of us, Samir was certainly not that.” Edgar pointed at the photos of Samir and Nafisa together. “He cheated on his pregnant wife. I would say that makes him a lowlife in my book,” Edgar expressed his disdain towards Samir.

  Arya’s eyes followed the many photos that showed Samir and Nafisa together. Why the heck did Sania marry this immoral and dreadful person? She would have been so much better off if she had married Reza.

  “Maybe Omar found out about Samir and Nafisa shacking up and did something about it.” Edgar’s words jerked Arya back to the present.

  Arya nodded slowly, agreeing with Edgar. That very same thought had entered Arya’s mind earlier.

  29

  “What can I do for you?” A smiling face and an inviting voice of a woman greeted Edgar and Arya as they entered the premises of JNC Bank.

  “We need to talk to the manager about a safe deposit box.” Edgar flashed a smile towards the elderly lady.

  “Sure. We can arrange that, but, unfortunately, you have to wait for a few months. All the safe-deposit boxes are taken as of now. But I can add you to the waiting list.” She had one of those soothing voices and an inviting smile that makes everyone remember their grandmother.

  “We are not here for opening a new one, but to find out about a particular safe deposit box.” Arya flashed her detective shield to the elderly lady and introduced herself and Edgar as detectives from the Philadelphia PD.

  “You are talking now above my pay grade. Let me see if I can get the manager for you.” The elderly lady gestured for Edgar and Arya to wait as she went inside to one of the little offices to fetch the bank manager.

  Arya and Edgar didn’t have to wait long for the manager, as the clerk came back with the manager, who introduced himself as Keith Robinson.

  After a brief moment of introductions, Robinson gestured for the detectives to follow him to his office so that they could continue their discussion in private. The presence of two police officers in the bank caused a few heads to turn, and some of them stopped by to thank the detectives for their service. Edgar and Arya had never before seen that kind of admiration expressed by total strangers. It seems the way first responders selflessly acted after the 9/11 attacks have elevated them rightfully as heroes in the eyes of the countrymen.

  “I was told that you are interested in a safe deposit box of a customer,” Robinson said, as he gestured for Edgar and Arya to take a seat across the table from him.

  “Yes, you heard right. We need to find out about the contents of a particular safe deposit box belonging to a customer named Samir Tariq,” Arya replied.

  “It was opened three months back,” Edgar added.

  Robinson nodded, gesturing his understanding of the request. “Sure, I can help with it. Can I see the warrant, please?” Robinson asked, extending his hand to receive the warrant.

  Arya and Edgar exchanged a brief glance before Edgar responded. “The warrant is in progress, and we are hoping that you would let us take a quick look at the safe deposit box.”

  “I am sorry I
can’t do that.” Robinson expressed that his hands were tied, and the bank’s policy mandates him to reveal the contents only upon a judicial warrant.

  Arya shifted her weight forward and leaned towards Robinson. “Robinson, can we trust you?”

  “For what?” Robinson’s eyes narrowed, feeling puzzled.

  “What we are going to tell you concerns national security.” Arya’s gaze landed squarely on Robinson. “Can we count on you for not repeating what I am going to tell you?”

  The sudden change in Arya’s demeanor and voice added an element of mystery and increased Robinson’s intrigue. Robinson knew Samir Tariq, but not as a friend or as a long-standing customer. He got to know about him because of Tariq’s troublesome behavior last week. Robinson was called upon by a bank teller when Tariq’s behavior towards the teller turned badgering, and he had to personally intervene to defuse the situation. The moment Robinson learned about the detectives’ interest in Tariq’s safe deposit box, his curiosity rose.

  “Is it related to 9/11?” Robinson asked, shifting his glance between Edgar and Arya restlessly.

  Arya stole a quick glance with Edgar, and both of them seemed to be taken aback with Robinson’s question.

  “Why would you say that?” Edgar jumped in.

  Arya remained silent, and her eyes were focused on Robinson’s body language. He seemed restless and shifty, like someone who was weighing something substantial in his head.

  “Is it?” Robinson repeated his question, looking for an answer from the detectives.

  “Before we say anything, we would like to know what made you ask us that question?” Edgar shifted the focus on learning the reason behind Robinson’s question.

  “Shit…, I knew there was something wrong with that asshole. I should have listened to my gut….” Robinson sounded frustrated and chided himself for not acting on his impulse.

  “Okay…. Let us take it from the beginning. What made you connect Tariq with 9/11?” Edgar asked.