The Keeper

by George C. Chesbro

  After a few moments the man leaned forward once again, rested his forearms on the table, and continued, “We must ask ourselves how such a thing could be possible. How could such men actually steal arms from the American government and sell them without being discovered?”

  “There are any number of ex-military officers sitting on the boards of corporations that once made the weapons but that are now being paid to dismantle them,” Jade said carefully. “Actual physical control of these weapons has been transferred to the companies. Weapons could be siphoned off from stockpiles by executives, board members and consultants working in concert, and the records altered.”

  Moshe Stein nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that sounds like a possibility. You might even have an ex-elected official or two thrown into the mix, not to mention sympathizers still active in the military who hope to be invited to join this very profitable venture when they retire. Security would have to be tight, because Congress and the media would not be so understanding if word of these operations ever leaked out; after highly publicized trials, many people would go to prison. Ex-combat soldiers the conspirators know they can rely on would be hired to provide that security, and these are the men who would be sent after you if you were perceived as a threat. In effect, these conspirators have built a shadow weapons industry and a shadow army to protect it. Does any of this sound conceivable to you, Jahli?”

  Jade swallowed hard as she tried to work up some moisture in her mouth. She sipped at her coffee, which had gone tepid, then said, “Yes, Uncle Moshe. That sounds exactly like what I’m up against.”

  “Do you feel better now that you’ve unburdened yourself to me?”

  “Yes, Uncle Moshe. Thank you.” Jade paused for a few moments, staring into the other man’s face, then continued quietly, “But I’m still left with the need to find these men and expose them before they get to me, I need at least one name.”

  Stein grunted. “That poses a problem. I can imagine such a conspiracy, but it would be useless for me to give you an imaginary name.”

  “And if you’re not imagining this conspiracy, Uncle Moshe?”

  “Then I would probably be what you wrote. Indeed, one or more people who are part of the conspiracy might actually be reporting to me. However, I could not confirm that or give you any information for the reasons we’ve already discussed. It would be a very difficult and complicated situation, Jahli. Sometimes the life of one person must be weighed against the importance of safeguarding the lives of many.”

  “Uncle Moshe,” Jade said guardedly, “it would not seem wrong to help a person save her own life if it would not jeopardize the lives of any other innocent people.”

  “Your situation is indeed very serious, and I fully sympathize with you. Indeed, if I was what you wrote, I might be tempted to violate certain very strict security procedures and try to find a way to help you. Would you like more coffee?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  “Are you interested in classic Western literature?”

  Jade was startled by the question, and she took a few moments to replay it in her mind to make sure she had heard the man correctly. Finally she said, “I don’t understand.”

  Moshe Stein folded his strong hands together on the table, and then leaned forward until his face was very close to Jade’s. Then he repeated the question, carefully enunciating each word. “I asked if you were interested in classic Western literature.”

  Jade, confused, shook her head. “I’m not well read, Uncle Moshe. I’ve never had much time.”

  “Well, perhaps you should take the time now. It might be good for you, help you to take your mind off your troubles.”

  Jade licked her dry lips, stared back into the man’s intense brown eyes. He was so close she could smell cloves on his breath. “I value your advice, Uncle Moshe. Where would … you suggest I begin?”

  Moshe Stein smiled thinly as he again leaned back in his chair. “Why, with a group of experts on the subject who may be able to guide you, of course. How is your memory?”

  “My memory is very good for certain things, Uncle Moshe. I may not remember you, but I will certainly remember anything you have to say. I won’t need to write anything down.”

  “Have you read Beowulf?”

  “No. But I’ve heard of it.”

  “An interesting work,” the white-haired man said in a tone of voice that had become less intense and more conversational. “An epic tale of great straggles and heroes. Complex. In fact, there’s a group of people who’ve formed a society for the sole purpose of studying this work and trying to probe its underlying themes. They call themselves the Beowulf Society. The timing of your interest in the subject is fortuitous, because the Beowulf Society just happens to have a convention coming up. They’ll be meeting this weekend at the Regency Hotel in Miami. If you hurry, you can still make plans to join them. I should caution you that they have a reputation for hostility to newcomers, so I wouldn’t waste time trying to sign up as a new member. Still, if you could find some way to monitor their meetings and discussion groups, you might find them of great interest. Registration begins at four on Friday afternoon on the second floor mezzanine.”

  Jade looked down at her hands and noted with satisfaction that they had stopped shaking. Her warrior, calm and ready, had awoke and was already making plans. “Thank you, Uncle Moshe,” she said quietly, looking up into his eyes. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

  The man laughed as he spread his arms out to his sides. “For what? It has been such a pleasure to see and talk to you after hearing so much about you from Max. We are family. We should be able to talk to each other, no?”

  “Yes,” Jade replied quietly, smiling. “Thank you again, Uncle Moshe.”

  “So, you feel better now?”

  Jade rose, and then reached across the table and touched the man’s hand. “I feel much better now, Uncle Moshe.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of help with your problem.”

  “Thank you for trying.” Jade hesitated, then sat back down on the edge of her chair. “May I ask you something else, Uncle Moshe? It concerns a different problem that’s very personal.”

  Moshe Stein shrugged. “Of course. I may not be of any help on this matter either, for I know so little, but you can certainly ask me anything you like.”

  “Have you ever heard of a man, a Rebbe, by the name of Yunis Dockowicz?”

  The man’s smile vanished, replaced by an expression of distaste. “Him I know about.”

  Jade sat up straighter. “How? I mean, what have you heard about him?”

  “Only what I used to read in the newspapers. Yunis Dockowicz is the leader of a meshuganah sect that believes he’s Mosiach. While he was here he waged war on secular Jews. He was caught taking the young children of secular Jews and placing them with families who were members of his sect. He was charged with kidnapping, but the case never came to trial because legal action was blocked by a few of our splinter parties on the far right who were aligned with him politically. But he was forced to leave the country, and most of his followers went with him. He’s living in the United States now.”

  “I know,” Jade said in a hollow voice.

  “He is rumored to have a taste for young girls.”

  “Oh, God,” Jade murmured, and slumped in her chair.

  “What does this schlimazel Dockowicz have to do with you, Jahli?”

  “My daughter is involved with his sect—and with him personally.”

  “This is not good, Jahli. You must put a stop to it.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Uncle Moshe,” Jade said in a small voice as she stared down into her empty coffee cup. “I’ve lost all influence with Fatima—my daughter. She has this terrible thirst for religious faith, and she seems to have a need to express it in the most extreme manner. In this case that means joining Dockowicz’s group. I gave her permission to live with them because I thought she would be safe there from the forces that threaten me, but now Docko
wicz has asked her to marry him and she wants to accept. She believes he’s the Messiah, and nothing I say can change her mind; it only makes matters worse between us. She seems to have lost the ability to make any kind of rational judgment where her religious faith is concerned. I know how to fight back against people who are trying to harm me, but I have no weapons to fight the ghosts in my daughter’s mind.”

  After a long pause, Moshe Stein asked, “Mabel and Abraham have your address and phone number in the United States?”

  Jade looked up at the man as tears welled in her eyes. “Yes. Why?”

  “If I can think of any advice that might help you, I will be in touch. For now, it seems to me that you should not allow yourself to be distracted from your other business.”

  Jade nodded, rose. “You’re right,” she said in a steady voice. “I must be going. Thank you again.”

  “You are welcome. Do you need a ride to the airport?”

  “No. I have a car available to me.”

  “Be very careful.”

  “I will.”

  “Shalom.”

  “Shalom,” Jade replied as she slung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the exit.

  “Jahli?”

  Jade turned back, smiled. “Yes, Uncle Moshe?”

  “Good hunting.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  i

  Roy rose to his feet when Jade walked into his office. As always, the sight of her not only made his heart beat faster but also gave him an erection, but he no longer worried that she might notice. He came around from behind his desk, took her in his arms and kissed her on the cheek. Somewhat to his surprise, Jade kissed him back hard, on the mouth.

  “Hi,” Roy said in a voice hoarse with desire. “God you look so beautiful.”

  “Hi yourself, and you certainly need glasses. I look like hell. I just got in, and I’m beat.”

  Roy asked quietly, “Did you get what you went looking for?”

  “Yep. The bastards have a fancy name for themselves - the Beowulf Society. They must be spread out like shit in corporations around the country, or the globe, because they’re getting together for a little meeting this weekend at the Regency Hotel in Miami. I plan to be there to record the great event. I’m going to give those arrogant, murdering sons-of-bitches a memento of the occasion they can all enjoy at their leisure while they’re sitting in prison.”

  Roy grunted. “I’m impressed. Will you explain to me how an Arab, and a Palestinian at that, managed to get that information in Israel, of all places?”

  Jade winked. “Irresistible charm.”

  “You won’t tell me.”

  “Can’t tell you. How’s my son?”

  Roy grinned. “He’s doing fine. He’s learning to cover his midsection and counterpunch, but his footwork still leaves a lot to be desired. He gets along real well with his bodyguard, likes going to school with him. I think it gives him status. Who knows? His problem with the other kids may resolve itself, and he won’t have to clean anybody’s clock. He should be home from school by now, and Frankie will stay with him until I get there. They’ve cut a deal; if Max Jr. does his homework right away, Frankie plays Mortal Kombat with him. You want a cup of coffee?”

  Jade shook her head. “Not coffee. But there’s something else you can do for me, if you’re still willing to help.”

  “If I’m still willing to help? Give me a break, Jade. What do you want?”

  Jade took a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Roy. “This is my shopping list. Actually, it’s more like a wish list. Even if you could only get one or two of those items, it would be enormously helpful. Otherwise, I’ll have to use commercial goods.”

  Roy went back behind his desk and sat down. He unfolded the paper Jade had given him and studied what she had written. Finally he looked up and said, “I assume this is surveillance equipment, but I’ve never heard of any of this stuff.”

  “It’s state-of-the art, very expensive, developed under contract from the NSA. Even if it was available to the public, which it isn’t, I couldn’t afford to buy any of it. That multi-deck, sound-activated tape recorder alone costs a hundred and seventy thousand.”

  “Where am I supposed to get this shit?”

  “The F.B.I. field office in New York should have some of that equipment in inventory, and it’s their policy to cooperate with local police departments in certain types of investigations. But there are complications. First, you have to state a specific reason why you need the piece of equipment you request. Second, the local chief of police has to sign off on the request, and I don’t want Jeff to know anything about this. Third, they’ll want to send along their own operator. That’s out too. If you can get hold of any of those machines without an F.B.I. agent attached, that would be great. If not, I’ll make do. Like I said, it’s a wish list.”

  Roy refolded the paper and put it in his pocket. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll try to get back to you by this time tomorrow to let you know what, if anything, I can come up with. I should know by then.”

  “Thank you, Roy.”

  “Just your local neighborhood cop at your service. Now, why don’t you go home, take a hot shower and a long nap, and then come over later for dinner? I happen to be a good cook when I put my mind to it.”

  Jade shook her head. “God, you don’t know how good that sounds to me right now. But I’ve still got somebody following me and he or she is good. I intend to lose him before I get on the redeye for Miami Thursday night, but for the next couple of days I’ll let things remain as they are. I think it’s best that I stay away from your house and Max Jr. until this thing is settled.”

  “Okay.”

  Jade came around the desk and again kissed Roy, licking his lips with her tongue. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Roy waited until Jade had crossed the office and was almost out the door before he said, “I’ll book us a room in my name.”

  Jade stopped and turned back. “Book us a room? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m going with you.”

  Jade smiled tentatively. “Don’t be silly.”

  “Max Jr. will be fine. Frankie will take him home for the weekend, and Max Jr. will like that just fine. He and Frankie have become goombahs.”

  Jade’s smile vanished. “Roy, this is dangerous.”

  “Gee, thanks for that little piece of information. Why the hell do you think I’m going with you?”

  Jade came back across the room, pulled up a chair next to Roy’s desk and sat down. “Roy,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand, “I know it sounds like I’m patronizing you, but I’m not. I’m not belittling your offer, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your caring about me, but you can’t come with me.”

  “Yes I can. This isn’t a man-woman thing. I’m going with you because you’re my friend, not because you’re a damsel in distress. So try to be gracious and say, ‘Thank you, Roy. I’ll be delighted to have you accompany me.’”

  “It’s not just the physical danger. You have no franchise as a cop there. Miami is no place for somebody who’s spying on military types to get caught and arrested. From our point of view, the whole damn city is filled with hostiles.”

  “I know that. So again I ask, why the hell do you think I’m going with you?”

  “It’s not just the danger of being killed, Roy. You could lose everything—your job and your freedom. I can’t let you take that risk.”

  “I’ve already had a full career, and I’ve never felt as free as I have since meeting you and your children. You’re going to need help, or at least somebody to watch your back. If nothing else, I’ll carry your camera case. Also, what you seem to keep forgetting is the fact that I have a personal score to settle with these pricks. I may not have any authority in Miami, but I can arrange to legally carry a gun aboard a plane, and you can’t. You are definitely going to need a gun where you’re going.”

  “If I’m trapped in a situation wher
e I need a gun, I’ll probably be dead meat anyway,” Jade said curtly, abruptly rising to her feet. “You’re not going with me, and that’s final. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Whatever you say,” Roy said, grinning as he leaned back in his chair. “But I will look you up while I’m in Miami over the weekend. Maybe we can do lunch.”

  Jade wheeled around and walked quickly from the office. Roy shook his head, then turned his attention back to the list Jade had given him. After a few minutes he reached out and picked up the phone.

  ii

  Jade had not been home in years; she had never been invited there when Max was alive, and after his death she had not cared to go. Like the Adens, her parents had never met their grandchildren, and Jade had no idea if they had ever opened the letters she had sent them, or looked at the photographs she had occasionally included in her letters as Max Jr. and Fatima were growing up. On those occasions when she had spoken to her parents on the phone, their conversations had seemed to her strained and unnatural.

  As with the Adens, Jade had not called ahead to let her parents know that she was coming to visit them; there would be too much explaining to do. If they were not home, she would wait for them. She did not know if there was anything she could say or do to heal the wounds or bridge the wall that was between them, but she had to try. She had needed the help of Max’s parents, and now she needed the help and understanding of her own.

  She stood for a few minutes on the sidewalk at the base of the steeply sloping lawn, looking up at the white clapboard house that was virtually identical to all of the other houses on the block in this crowded, tightly knit Muslim neighborhood in Brooklyn. She suddenly experienced a flood of bittersweet memories of growing up in a home where there was always love but also an ever-increasing level of misunderstanding as she had grown older. Neither of her parents had formal education, and neither had ever shown much interest in the world beyond this neighborhood of similarly devout Muslims and their mosques. Her parents had not cared to become assimilated into the larger society in a country where they felt the vast majority of citizens were hostile to them. As Jade had gone through high school, the increasing estrangement had become unbearable, and they had all been relieved when she had left to go to Annapolis.