Chapter Fifty-Eight
A Week Later
“What was that all about?” Isaac said. He was on the courthouse steps, a free man, along with his fiancée Naomi.
Paul had joined them with their lawyer, Jeremy Hill.
“They had no choice but to drop all charges,” Jeremy said. “They didn’t have a case against either of you.”
Paul could see Jeremy was pleased and proud but also feeling suspicious.
“What’s going on, y’all may ask?” the middle-aged attorney added. “Well, I’m not entirely sure. Maybe we spooked them, or maybe they spooked themselves.”
“Pardon me?” Naomi said. She was clutching Isaac’s left arm. His right arm was in a sling concealing bandages on his chest where he’d been shot.
“The sheriff had no cases and he knew it,” Jeremy said.
“Why the charges?” Paul asked. “Were they just trying to cover for that rookie who shot Isaac?”
“That would be a strong possibility,” Jeremy said. “Another theory might be they were covering up for someone or something else, or perhaps both. Hopefully, it will all come out in court.”
“What court?” Paul, Naomi, and Isaac chorused.
“Surely y’all are not going to let them get away with this, are y’all?” Jeremy asked. “Y’all both have clear cases of unlawful arrest and unlawful use of a firearm, perhaps even attempted murder and malicious prosecution. Isaac,” he continued. “If y’all don’t file a civil action against all parties, y’all will be encouraging this kind of thing to happen again, here and elsewhere. The same goes for y’all, Naomi. I doubt y’all want to have your experience thrust upon some other innocent young woman.”
Naomi shook her head in agreement.
“You can appreciate,” Paul said. “Our prime concern right now is who murdered Ahmed. We don’t want anything to distract efforts from tracking down his killer.”
“Of course,” Jeremy said. “That comes first. Y’all can call on me for any help I can provide in that regard, no charge. We can discuss the lawsuit later.”
“Will you be in town much longer?” Paul said.
“A few more days,” Jeremy said. “Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton have asked me to stay until the autopsy on Mr. Mousavi’s body is done. The medical examiner’s office said it should be in a position to release the results by the middle of next week.”
“That autopsy seems to be taking an unusually long time,” Paul said.
“Yes,” Jeremy said. “Perhaps they’re waiting for things to settle down a bit.”
***
Four Days Later
“Suicide?” Paul said. “That’s wrong... that’s absolute bullshit!”
His spontaneous outburst of profanity surprised even him. He was barely able to keep his voice under control.
“That’s crap, Jeremy!”
“That’s what the sheriff’s department is saying,” Jeremy replied. “Their statement was just delivered, Paul. It says that Mr. Mousavi’s injuries are consistent with those of a person intending to kill themselves.”
“That’s utterly absurd!” Paul said. “Absolute nonsense! You never met Ahmed, but I can assure you that nothing could be farther from the truth. I saw his body. He was beaten unmercifully before he was murdered. There’s no way he committed suicide... no bloody way.
“Can we meet in your office, say in an hour?” Paul added. “I’ll call Isaac and Naomi. Can you call the Hamilton’s? They’ll all want to see that statement. Okay?”
“Of course.”
***
“As you know, I identified Ahmed’s body at the scene,” Paul told the others gathered around Jeremy’s large office desk. “No reasonable person could possibly mistake his injuries as self-inflicted... they were caused by someone else, most likely by more than one person. The sheriff saw Ahmed’s body as well, and so did two or three of his deputies,” he added. “His conclusion at the scene was homicide. He and I saw that Ahmed’s right arm had been broken. There’s no way he could have hung himself with an injury like that. How could Mitchell possibly say now that Ahmed committed suicide? That’s a lie, a bold-faced lie!”
“I agree,” Joan Hamilton said. “This statement is preposterous!” She threw the report on the desk, wiping a tear from her left eye with an unsteady right hand. “When is the official autopsy report by the medical examiner to be released?”
“Next week, I’m told,” Jeremy replied.
“Can we get access to the police reports?” Paul asked. “I want to read what the deputies on the scene had to say, and to see the crime scene and autopsy photographs, and whether my statement was included.”
“I’ll get a subpoena,” Jeremy said.
“Michael and I saw Ahmed at the funeral home before his service,” Joan said, her emotions barely under control. “Paul’s right. Despite their best efforts, Ahmed’s injuries were horribly obvious. No one could possibly do those things to themselves.”
Isaac and Naomi sat in stunned silence, staring at the statement on Jeremy’s desk.
“That’s not at all like Ahmed,” Naomi said, wiping her eyes. “He had absolutely no reason to kill himself... quite the opposite. He was excited about the future... about his future. He loved his life... and we all loved him!”
She broke down in a convulsion of deep sobs.
Isaac wrapped his arms around her. She buried her head against his sturdy chest.
“What do we do?” Isaac asked, clearing his throat.
“Wait for the formal autopsy report,” Jeremy said. “We’ll see what it has to say about this and go from there.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Two weeks later
Amsterdam
“What are you doing here, Paul?” Janet Wallis said. “How in the world did you find me?”
“I came to see you,” he said. “I have a few questions. Remember that CI you told me about?”
Janet smiled and nodded.
“Yeah,” Paul smiled back. “You gave me his name and contact info... you said he’d know where to find you, alive or dead. Well, I found you... and alive, happily.”
They were at a homeless shelter in an Amsterdam suburb, a few miles from where the kidnappers had held them.
“My first question,” Paul said. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hiding out,” Janet said. “Too many bad guys can recognize me now that my cover’s been blown. As you know, I was working undercover at the airport. Someone ratted. I don’t know who to trust anymore, at the airport or in the Amsterdam police. DEA wanted to haul me in, but I need to keep in touch with my CI. I’m trying to keep my head down until this is over. We’re just about there.”
“My second question,” Paul said. “Maurice Eldridge was adamant you have no affiliation with the DEA in America nor with Interpol. Yet, MI5 confirms you are on loan from DEA to Interpol. Why would he say that?”
Janet laughed.
“Eldridge has been playing a dangerous game and it’s unraveling,” she said. “Quite frankly I’m mystified why he’d put himself at risk of exposure like that, with no apparent exit strategy that I know of.”
“Please explain.”
“Eldridge may be employed by MI5, but I found out that for years he’s been leaking intel to those Turkish smugglers using Schiphol Airport. He’s one of the people who’d love to have me killed.”
“I’m surprised MI5 hasn’t arrested him,” Paul replied.
“Not really,” Janet said. “He’s been too valuable to them where he is. Eldridge has been pretending to MI5 that he’s working on the Turkish smugglers case. In fact, he’s been feeding information to the syndicate. MI5 is on to him but they don’t want him to know it yet. To pretend he’s legitimate, Eldridge has been leaking valuable tidbits of information about the smugglers to MI5, all the while working to discredit me. He thinks his partner, Maryanne Chernowicz, is on board with him. He doesn’t know Maryanne is honest. She’s been helping me feed updates to MI5, MI6, and I
nterpol about his complicity with the Turkish smugglers. We probably have enough now to take down the whole damned operation. Eldridge is small potatoes now but was a key player for a while.”
“The tangled webs we weave,” Paul said.
“Oh yeah,” Janet said. “It’s your turn, Paul, to answer my question. Who are you, exactly?”
“Let’s just say I’m a CI for MI5,” Paul replied. “They know about our connection. Since I travel a lot on business, I guess my observations are useful to MI6 too, from time to time.”
“You said you travel on business?” she asked. “What else do you do, Paul?”
“I work for the government and I do some investing.”
“That’s kinda vague,” Janet said.
“It’s all you get.”
“Okay,” she replied. “You married?”
“Very.”
“That’s good.”
“Kids?”
“Two.”
“That’s even better.”
“I figured you were safe,” Janet said. “Buy me supper?”
“Sure.”
***
The Next Day
Heathrow Airport
“Welcome home, my love!”
Anne was in the customs arrival area waving excitedly as Paul emerged from the frosted glass automatic doors. Doug and Catherine were jumping up and down.
Anne rushed over. Paul gathered her in his arms and kissed her longingly. Doug grabbed Paul’s bag with one hand and held Catherine’s hand in the other.
“Who’s that, Dad?” Doug asked, looking behind Paul at a woman his dad had been helping out of the arrivals lounge.
“I’d like all of you to meet Janet Wallis,” Paul said. “She’s going to be staying with us for a few days.”
He picked up Catherine with his right arm. She snuggled her tiny head tight against her daddy’s neck. Paul tousled Doug’s brown hair with his left hand, wrapped his arm around Anne’s waist, and gave her another warm and longing kiss.
“I’m pleased to meet all of you,” Janet said. She leaned heavily on a folded umbrella, using it as a cane. “What a lovely family!” There was a wistful tone in the thirties-something woman’s voice.
“Janet needs a quiet place to stay and rest for a few days,” Paul said, answering the unasked question in Anne’s eyes.
He didn’t tell her that Janet also needed a place to hide. He would explain later.
A well-dressed stranger walked up to them.
“Lord and Lady Winston?”
A tall burly man in a business suit stepped in front of Paul. A lapel pin identified him as a member of New Scotland Yard’s security detail.
“Yes?” Paul said. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Inspector Ian Purdue, Milord. Would you and Lady Anne be good enough to follow us?”
Another man of similar stature appeared beside Purdue.
“What’s with this ‘Lord and Lady’ stuff?” Janet asked. “Would you like to tell me what’s with a police security detail?”
“Tell you later,” Paul said as they arrived at an unmarked executive lounge. It was discretely tucked among other lounges reserved for elite passengers of British Airways, Lufthansa, Delta, and other airlines.
“Pardon me, Milord,” Purdue said, stopping at the door. “Before we discuss anything, would you mind telling me who this young woman might be?”
“Did I hear you say ‘young woman’?” Janet said. “I could get to like you, Inspector. My name is Janet Wallis. Here’s my ID.”
Purdue looked closely at the proffered identification and raised his eyebrows. He opened the door and stood back.
“We’re supposed to be on the lookout for you,” he said.
Janet stumbled back from the doorway and looked around. Her flight instincts had clicked into gear.
“Oh, no!” Purdue said, smiling. “Scotland Yard issued a general directive on behalf of Interpol telling us to provide you with all the assistance and protection you may require, should we encounter you.”
“I see,” Janet said.
Paul sensed she was still wary.
“Why is that?” she asked.
The door to the unmarked lounge had almost closed automatically when it opened again.
“Daddy!” Anne said. “What are you doing here?”
“Grandpa!” Doug called. He and Catherine rushed over to meet Richard Meriwether.
“Hi, Paul,” Richard said as he embraced Anne and knelt to gather up Catherine and hug Doug. “Heard you were coming home... at least for a while.”
“Hi, Richard,” Paul said. They shook hands. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”
“This young lady here,” Richard replied, smiling at Janet.
“Young?” she said. “I’m beginning to really like all of your friends, Paul!”
“Meet Richard Meriwether,” Paul said. “He’s MI5. He’s also Anne’s father.”
“We got word you were on the flight with Paul,” Richard said. “We’re relieved you arrived safely.”
“Me too,” Janet said. She hobbled over and sat on the nearest chair, visibly weary.
Doug was observing the exchange with growing interest, Anne with growing concern. Catherine was preoccupied with the doll she’d pulled from the diaper bag in Anne’s hand.
“I’m afraid you’re not home free yet,” Richard said.
“Why’s that?” Janet asked, looking up at Richard.
“Maurice Eldridge was arrested two days ago but now he’s disappeared... appears to have jumped bail,” he replied. “Eldridge knows you’re responsible for exposing his complicity in that Turkish smuggling operation.”
“So Moe’s on the loose, is he?” she said.
“He’ll be looking for you, I’m afraid,” Richard said. “Bragged before he disappeared that he was going to hunt you down and kill you.”
Anne stepped forward.
“Paul,” she interrupted. “I’m going to take the children over to that restaurant we passed on the way here!”
He understood her purpose. She didn’t want Doug and Catherine exposed further to the discussion.
“I want to stay, Dad,” Doug said.
“I’m sorry, son,” Paul replied. “I’ll fill you in later. Okay?”
After Anne and the children had left with one of the bodyguards, Janet turned to Richard:
“That’s not welcome news,” she said. “His tradecraft is legendary, especially his record of assassinations.”
“I’m afraid you’re correct,” Richard said.
“Do you think he knows I’m in England?” she asked.
“I certainly hope not,” Richard replied. “But we’ve no way of knowing that.”
“Shit!” she said. “Do you still want me to stay at your place? It could put your family in danger.”
“Of course,” Paul said. “Right now, it’s probably one of the best defended homes around.”
“We’ll check on that immediately, Milord,” Insp. Purdue said.
***
A Week Later
Earnscliffe
“We lost track of that gang’s damned enforcer for a few weeks,” Ken Hagerman said. “Then he showed up here again. Can’t figure out where he’s been... up to no good for sure.”
“You mean Izad Rajavi?” Paul said.
Paul and Ken were meeting with Richard Meriwether and Janet Wallis in Paul’s den.
“Yes,” Ken replied. “That’s the one Ahmed Mousavi identified as the gang’s enforcer.”
“The other gang members were there?” Richard asked. “Including their leader, Kazem Mehregan?”
“Correct,” Ken said, glancing at Paul. “That is, he and as many of the other gang members as he’s managed to reassemble. That’s not all the bad news, Paul. Mehregan and the Turkish syndicate have upped the ante for that hit he ordered on you and your family. Our CI tells us they’ve doubled it, to $100,000 US each, funded by the Turks. Looks like they’re serious... deadly
serious!”
“My God!” Janet said. “What’s that about?”
“A man named Ahmed Mousavi,” Ken replied. “Paul rescued him from Mehregan’s gang and in the process got all of them arrested. It screwed up the gang’s human smuggling and drug businesses. We hear that Rajavi intends to be first in line to carry out the hit on Paul. He’s also believed to have been involved in the murder of Ahmed Mousavi in America a few weeks ago.”
“It’s more like Ahmed rescued himself,” Paul said. “Until he was murdered. Thank you for the extra measures to keep my family safe.”
“You’re welcome,” Ken said. “I guess you noticed the increase in security. We’re trying not to be too obvious.”
“Does Anne know about the increased bounty?” Richard asked, a concerned expression on his face.
“No,” Ken said. “And we’d rather not worry her.”
“I would think that’s for Anne to decide,” Paul said. “I’ll discuss it with her. You and your people would be well advised not to underestimate my wife.”
“Yes, sir,” Ken said.
Richard’s face relaxed.
Janet tried to suppress a smile, but finally let it show.
“Do you know what Rajavi has been up to?” Paul asked.
“We have evidence the gang has been smuggling people into and out of the UK,” Ken said. “He was in charge of that. It’s one of the gang’s sidelines... it’s likely their main source of income since we shut down their drug operations.”
“Aren’t we a pair?” Janet said, looking at Paul. “Two targets for bad guys, both of us located in the same place! How convenient for them!”
“Not funny,” Richard said.
Ken frowned.
After a moment everyone chuckled... uneasily.
“That’s covered, Janet,” Ken said. “We’ve arranged for a safe house for you. Someone will drop you off when we’re done here.”
She looked at Paul; they both snickered.
“Guess I’m back in business, thanks to you... again,” she said.
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