“I don’t care.” Liam left the room to finish his beer. After a while, he brought the empty bottle back into the kitchen and flipped it into the recycle can. “Before the meeting came up, I was planning on going down to Louisville tomorrow.”
“Is it Derby time already?”
Liam smiled. “Not for three months. I was going to go down to pay a visit to Sommers’s sister.”
“Did you make an appointment?”
Liam shook his head. “She refused to talk to the FBI. She told Miller that she knew her rights and she didn’t have to talk to him and he better not come back to her house without a court order. I didn’t think she’d want to talk to me either.”
“But you’re planning on going down there?”
“Right. I might catch her off guard. Put on me Ulster charm. No woman can resist.”
Catherine smiled. “It always works on me.” She walked over and gave him a kiss. “I do love you, you know.”
TWENTY-FOUR
LUBANNAH WALKED QUIETLY INTO the living room. “She’s finally asleep, Arif. I sang to her. Every lullaby I know. She’s very unhappy.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“Earlier tonight, I asked her again to play the piano. I took her downstairs, put a pillow on the bench, just like we used to do for Alina. I showed her the music that Alina played. It even had hearts on the page that Alina drew when she was six. It only made her sadder. Sophie says she will only play her own piano. At her own home in Chicago. And then she cries because she misses her mother and her father. It’s so sad.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“I do not mean to question your wisdom, Arif, but I worry that we have done the wrong thing, taking her away from her home. She begs me to go home. ‘Talk to Jaddi,’ she says, ‘and tell him to take me back to my daddy.’ She cries and cries and clings so tightly to her stuffed bear.”
“You do not mean to question my wisdom, but you question my wisdom. She’ll get over it. And that bear, I think we should remove it. The bear reminds her of her life in America. It is too strong a connection.”
Lubannah put her hands on her hips. “Now I draw the line. If you throw away her bear, she will be inconsolable. What are you trying to do, drive her to hysteria?”
“No, I’m trying to raise Sophie as I would have raised Alina. Alina was lost to me, my only child, my only descendant. Sophie is the only one left of our bloodline, Lubannah. Does that mean nothing to you? Are the al-Zahanis merely to disappear from the earth? No, Lubannah, she will become what Alina would have been. What Alina should have been.”
“She is not Alina, Arif. Alina is—”
“Stop, woman. I will not have this argument. Sophie will be raised in our home as our daughter. Out of respect for you, I will not destroy her bear. At this time.”
Al-Zahani stood and walked toward the door. “I have a meeting. I’ll be back late. Do not wait up.”
* * *
THE GROUP OF TEN met at the apartment. By previous agreement, they arrived several minutes apart and from different directions. When they were finally assembled, Nizar said, “So, were you followed this time, Rami?”
“Not that I am aware. I did not see the woman, but who knows with the IDF?”
“We have seven weeks left,” Fa’iz said. “Is the warehouse secure?”
“It is ideal. One of a thousand identical warehouses in Jerusalem, but with a locked cold-storage vault and an inside garage,” Ahmed said.
“And what about the bags, what is our progress?”
“On schedule,” al-Zahani answered. “That will not be our problem. The bus and the deliveries. Those are our only problems.”
“What about the tour bus?”
“A beauty to behold. Safe in the garage. It needs only stenciling. Undetectable from the Israeli tour bus. But we still have plenty of time before we switch them,” Rami said.
“What about a practice run?” Nizar said.
“There will be no practice run,” Fa’iz said. “The bus, the bags, they will go out as scheduled.”
TWENTY-FIVE
“SELECTION SUNDAY IS ONLY two weeks away, Victor,” George said, trying to keep his voice loud enough to be heard in the noisy arena. “Where do you think we’ll be slotted?”
Kelsen shrugged. “Maybe Midwest. I think the Deacs will probably be a second or third seed. Tough one tonight, though. MSU is on an eleven-game winning streak.”
They stood as the color guard carried the flags to center court for the national anthem and the arena grew silent. George removed his blue Deacons cap and placed it over his heart. He leaned over and whispered to Kelsen, “You think we’ll cover three points tonight?”
Kelsen smiled and shrugged. “Giving us three on our home court is a pick ’em. I stayed away, George.”
“Even from the over-and-under?”
Kelsen smiled again. “That’s a different story.”
* * *
AFTER DINNER, CATHERINE SAT at the table and resumed reading the trial transcript. On the fourth day, al-Zahani took the stand to testify on behalf of Lubannah and himself. Once again, Catherine flagged certain sections of the testimony.
(Direct Examination by Petitioners’s Attorney Jerome Gibbs) “Doctor, please say your name for the court record.”
“Dr. Arif al-Zahani.”
“What is your profession, sir?”
“I am a doctor of medicine and a research physician. I have a private practice in Hebron in general medicine. I am on staff at Al-Alia Hospital in Hebron, a teaching hospital, the government hospital.”
“Am I correct, sir, that you were formerly chief of staff at your hospital?”
“That is correct, although we did not call it that.”
“Have you practiced at any other hospital?”
“I have practiced at the Islamic Charitable Hospital in Jerusalem and for a while at the Augusta Victoria Hospital in Jerusalem. But no longer.”
“And your wife, Lubannah, what is her profession?”
“Lubannah was a nurse many years ago. She stopped working when we had our only child, Alina. She stayed at home, raising our daughter, making her dinners, teaching her, nurturing her. She was an excellent mother.”
“Calling your attention, Doctor, to October 2011, did you have occasion to hire a private investigation firm?”
“Yes. I became concerned for my granddaughter’s welfare. When I was in Chicago for my daughter’s funeral, I could see that John Sommers was emotionally disturbed, and I was worried about Sophie’s safety.”
(By Harold Fine) “Objection to the witness rendering an opinion on the mental condition of my client.”
(Witness) “Do not question my credentials, sir, I am a licensed doctor and I have completed a rotation in psychiatry.”
(Judge Karr) “I’m assuming it’s not offered as an expert opinion, but as a predicate for what happens next, is that right?”
(By Jerome Gibbs) “Correct, Your Honor.”
(Judge Karr) “Then it’s overruled on that basis. Move on.”
(By Jerome Gibbs) “What were your instructions to the private detective?”
(Witness) “Just to keep an eye on Mr. Sommers and Sophie and report to me. I was really hoping that everything would be okay, that Mr. Sommers would get himself together, that we would not have to intervene, but the reports came back very bad. Drugs, alcohol, depression, hysteria. I knew I had to act quickly to protect our granddaughter.”
(By Harold Fine) “Objection.”
(By Judge Karr). “Sustained. Move on.”
(Witness) “But, Your Honor, the reports told me that Mr. Sommers was in psychotherapy, was on psychotropic medication, was suffering from depression, and as a grandfather, I—”
(By Harold Fine) “Objection, objection. This man cannot be allowed to ramble on with hearsay testimony.”
(Witness) “I have to protect my grandchild. What is hearsay? I get reports. I get pictures. I know it’s true.”
(B
y Harold Fine) “Objection, Your Honor.”
(Judge Karr) “Sustained. Doctor, wait until there is a question asked before you speak. And you cannot testify about what someone else said. That’s hearsay. You can only testify to what you’ve seen and heard. Now, Mr. Fine, please sit down. I hear your objections. I understand the hearsay rule. I think I know what’s evidentiary and what’s not—what I can consider and what I shouldn’t. Mr. Gibbs, let’s get on with the testimony.”
(By Jerome Gibbs) “Doctor, without saying what was in the reports or what you were told, how many reports did you receive?”
(Witness) “One each week for about eight or nine weeks. I also talked to my investigators on the phone. And Sommers wasn’t getting any better. Maybe worse.”
(By Harold Fine) “Objection, Your Honor.”
(Judge Karr) “The objection will be sustained.”
(By Jerome Gibbs) “After reading these reports and talking to the investigators, what did you do?”
“I contacted you. I want to take Sophie to my home, where she will be well cared for.”
* * *
CATHERINE STRETCHED HER LEGS, poured a cup of tea, and then moved ahead to the part where al-Zahani was cross-examined by Jack’s attorney.
(By Harold Fine) “Dr. al-Zahani, on direct you described a warm and loving home in Hebron. Are you a warm and loving person?”
“I guess you would have to ask others about that.”
“No, sir, I’m asking you. Are you a warm and loving person? Tell the judge.”
“Yes, of course I am.”
“I mean, you are asking this court to award guardianship of a young, five-year-old girl to you and your wife, six thousand miles away from her home and her father. Are you truly capable of providing a warm and nourishing relationship?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you expect that you will care for Sophie as warmly and lovingly as you would care for your very own child?”
(Witness does not answer)
“Dr. al-Zahani?”
“Of course.”
“As warmly and lovingly, for example, as you treated your daughter, Alina?”
“It is different.”
“Answer the question please.”
“Yes.”
“Just as warmly?”
“I said yes.”
“Did either you or your wife attend Alina’s wedding?”
“Regretfully, no. I was too busy with my practice to leave the country.”
“Was your wife busy with her practice as well?”
“She does not have a practice. She cannot travel without me.”
“You mean you wouldn’t let her?”
“It is not proper.”
“Since the wedding, how many times have you visited Alina?”
“I have not.”
“Well, all right then. After your daughter had her baby, your grandchild, how many times did you visit?”
“I did not.”
“Busy again?”
(Witness nods)
“For five years?”
“You have no idea. There are not many doctors in Hebron. I have a very busy practice.”
“Do you have a telephone, Doctor?”
“Of course.”
“How often did you speak to your daughter over the past eight years?”
“I don’t know.”
“Isn’t it true, sir, that before your wife had her heart attack, you did not see or speak to Alina since she left Palestine eight years ago?”
“My wife was writing to her.”
“And you, sir?”
“I let my wife write, I was very busy.”
(Respondent identifies Exhibit #1)
“I show you a letter we have marked as Respondent’s Exhibit One. Do you recognize the handwriting?”
“It is Lubannah’s.”
“And is that her signature?”
(Witness nods)
“The letter is in Arabic. Would you please read and translate into English the first three sentences.”
(Witness is silent)
(By Harold Fine) “Your Honor, would you please instruct the witness to answer my question?”
(Judge Karr) “Dr. al-Zahani, please read and translate the first three sentences as requested.”
(Witness) “My dearest Alina. I have your letter and I am pleased to learn that you and Sophie are doing so well. I have shown your letters to your father, but he will not read them and will not speak of you in our home.”
(By Harold Fine) “Go on, Doctor. Read the next sentence.”
“Maybe in time he will change his mind, but for now he says he has no daughter.”
“Did you disown your very own daughter?”
(Witness is silent)
“Did you disown your daughter, Alina?”
(Witness is silent)
“Mr. Warm-and-Loving, did you kick your daughter out of your life? Was she dead to you eight years before she died? Is that how warm and loving—”
(By Jerome Gibbs) “Objection. Objection.”
(Judge Karr) “Counsel, sit down. The objection is overruled.”
(By Harold Fine) “—you will be to Sophie, just as warm and loving? Doctor, are you asking this court to grant you custody so that you can disown Sophie six thousand miles away from her home if she crosses you?”
(Witness) “You do not understand. Alina had turned from us. She had rejected us and her Islamic faith. In marrying this man, she had dishonored her mother and me. We raised her—gave her everything—she was a beautiful pianist, she was a brilliant psychologist, a lovely Muslim woman—who ran off with an American who was, who…”
“Was a Jew?”
“A Jew. An American. What does it matter, he was not of our community. Notwithstanding, I remained devoted to Alina, she was my precious one, but I could not act like nothing happened. When she came to Hebron last summer, when she was back in the house, I tried, we talked, but I knew she had become the wife … I was not mean to her. I was trying, but…”
“You were distant?”
“Perhaps.”
“You didn’t change your mind?”
“I did not.”
“You had no daughter.”
(Witness is silent)
“No further questions.”
* * *
CATHERINE SHUT THE TRANSCRIPT binder. “Case over,” she said to herself.
TWENTY-SIX
CATHERINE AND LIAM WERE the last to arrive when they walked into J&F’s conference room at 10:00 A.M. Walter Jenkins and three other people were already seated around the oval conference table, and they stood as Catherine and Liam entered.
Walter made the introductions. “I think you know Jeff Miller from the FBI. This is Harry Foster from Washington and Kayla Cummings, his associate.”
“Washington? What agency?” Liam said as he shook their hands.
“Well, more precisely, you might say we’re intelligence analysts,” Foster said. His handshake was firm. His gray hair was thinning, but neatly cut. He stood tall in a light gray suit with a dark blue tie.
“Langley?”
Foster shrugged and gave a nod. “Middle East desk, Mr. Taggart.”
“Liam. Just Liam.”
Walter gestured for everyone to sit. Liam pointed across the table to Kayla Cummings, who sat posture-perfect in a dark blue suit, lavender blouse, and tricolored scarf, neatly tucked at the neckline, her hands folded on the table before her. She was exquisite, with dark eyes and warm olive skin. Gold hoop earrings glistened against her black hair.
“And may I ask who Ms. Cummings works for?” Liam said.
“I am assigned to the assistant secretary of state for Near Eastern Affairs, Mr. Taggart. I advise the assistant secretary and the undersecretary on policy issues, specifically with regard to Iraq, Iran, Israel, and the territories administered by the Palestinian Authority.”
Liam tilted his head at Catherine. “The spooks are here.” Then, leaning forward on his e
lbows, he asked Foster, “What brings the CIA and the State Department to Chicago on a theft of corporate funds?”
“Well, the simple answer to that question is Kayla,” Foster said. “She believes there is a connection between the kidnapping of the Sommers child, the missing money, and certain activities she’s been following in the Middle East. Although purely theoretical at this stage, there’s enough substance to her theories to persuade me to come and talk to you.”
“I don’t understand,” Liam said. “The theft of the escrow funds is a local issue. How are the Middle East desk and the Department for Near Eastern Affairs involved?”
“We’re here because your corporate embezzlement in Chicago may be earmarked to fund the activities of a group I’ve been monitoring,” Kayla said.
Foster angled his head in Kayla’s direction. “Kayla’s been trying to build a book on a group of Palestinians and has convinced me, maybe prematurely, that there’s a reason for all of us to get together.” He slid a group of papers across the table to Liam. “But before we go any further, we have to do the formalities. What we discuss here today must be held in the strictest confidence as a matter of national security. Our entire discussion, and any information that flows from our discussion, is classified and must remain confidential. Do we have an understanding in that regard?”
Catherine and Liam looked at each other and then nodded their agreement. Foster pointed to the confidentiality agreements. Catherine and Liam each signed them and slid them back across the table.
“Let’s begin with Arif al-Zahani, a prominent doctor in the West Bank city of Hebron,” Foster said. “His family has been well-known to us and our British cousins for more than ninety years. Indeed, Arif’s grandfather Ibrahim al-Zahani was an adjutant to Amin al-Husseini, the mufti of Jerusalem, one of the most belligerent and dangerous men the area has ever produced, a man responsible for countless uprisings and murders. During their tenure, Ibrahim and Amin caused the deaths of dozens of British soldiers and countless civilians, both Jews and Arabs. Arif’s father, Hamid al-Zahani, was an officer in the Jordanian army in the 1948 and 1967 wars and was the commandant of the Hebron garrison for twenty years.”
“Arif operates at a much lower altitude,” added Kayla, “though I believe he’s no less sinister. He’s a learned man. A medical doctor and a scientist. He has the respect of his community and others in his profession, even in Jerusalem, where he has lectured on his specialty. He has influence among his people. And he’s very wealthy.”
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