Marcel nodded slowly and looked at the Mossad assassin. He obviously didn’t like him. “You mean you were taking the time to plan his assassination?”
“Yes, if you want to call it that, Mr. Fauchet. Mossad made the suggestion to have him eliminated, yes.”
Billycan raised an eyebrow. “When you say, ‘Mossad made the suggestion…,’ do you mean you had a choice?”
“Yes, Mr. Billycan. As I said to Agent Gilford when he and Agent Lypsick interviewed me in Vancouver, we always receive suggestions from our contacts, practically never a direct order.”
“And what happens if you don’t do what is suggested?”
“Two things. First, the job is carried out by someone else, and then you’re retired or forced to pay the price for making the wrong decision.”
“And what happened in this case—did you carry out the suggestion?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then the question is how did your prints got in Mr. Assor’s SUV.”
To the other three people around the table there was no reason to smile, but Samuel did. He smiled and shook his head. “You mean the handprints on the dashboard?”
“Yes, Agent Meshullam. How did your prints got in that car?” Marcel was getting irritated.
“I don’t know, sir.”
Marcel was not going to let that go. “Perhaps we haven’t made it sufficiently clear, Agent Meshullam. The prints were made by a person trying to avoid the force of an impact, such as the one you would get in an accident…”
“I know, Mr. Fauchet,” Samuel interrupted. “The officer who interviewed me when I first arrived in D.C. told me about these prints, and same as I told him at the time, I have no idea how they got there. Maybe, they were made to confuse the issue...”
Billycan gawked at the Mossad agent. “And that they did, Agent Meshullam. That they did!”
“You know, Mr. Billycan, there is something you may not know or have overlooked.”
“What’s that?” Billycan asked.
“The fact that my hand prints—entire hand prints—were only taken when I joined Mossad. That’s the only time I recall having made or left hand prints anywhere. Besides, in many circumstances we wear gloves... but not in this instance, though.”
“So, you’re saying that your hand prints were taken only when you joined Mossad?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
“But then, that fact brings two questions to mind.” Darlene’s eyes didn’t leave Billycan’s face. “The first is how could these prints be considered as ‘made recently’ by the forensic analyst?” Heads turned to Samuel, awaiting an answer. “And two, if someone wanted to indicate your presence in the vehicle at any time, why would they choose to leave whole hand prints on the dashboard and not some casual prints on the passenger door handle, for example?”
Samuel swung his head slowly from side to side. “I don’t know, Mr. Billycan. The only conclusion I could draw from these two is that Mossad wasn’t involved in inserting confusing evidence in this series of events.”
Marcel said, “So, you’re saying that someone, who had access to your prints, tried to confuse the evidence by injecting doubt as to your carrying your assignment?”
“But why?” Darlene asked suddenly. “Why would somebody want to confuse the issue?”
Samuel turned his head to her. “Maybe someone is trying to shift the blame from Mossad to someone else?” He paused meaningfully. “All I know is that the suggestion I was given was to eliminate Mr. Assor. That’s all. Maybe the person who tampered with the car was told to leave confusing evidence of my being involved with that tampering, too.”
“Then tell me this, Agent Meshullam, why would the CIA try to instil doubt as to you being responsible for pulling the trigger or trying to divert our attention onto someone other than either themselves or you, for that matter?”
“Because, Mr. Billycan, the CIA needs to uncover who is working in their midst and against them. As it turned out the car tampering seemed to have been designed to kill Agent Assor. I was quite surprised when I saw the car veer out of control as I was about to shoot the man. I was almost unable to finish the job.”
“But the evidence proves that you finished the job, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And according to the forensic lab, the bullet that was extracted from Mr. Assor’s skull was indeed fired from your rifle.” Billycan pushed his chair back and crossed one ankle over one knee. “Given that evidence, and until your prints were found in the vehicle, we had no doubt that you were the person who shot Mr. Assor. As you said, the handprints confused the issue. You could not have been in two places at once.” He paused, joined the fingers of his hands in front of his chest and began flexing them. “But then, I’ve got a problem. For one thing, the forensics’ expert is going to testify that according to their analysis of the car, the passenger door couldn’t have been opened on impact, during the accident. His calculations will ascertain that someone opened the door after the accident. So, the question is: have you observed anyone else in the car beside Mr. Assor at the time you took aim?”
Samuel bent his head and brought his legs back under his chair. “I cannot be sure, Mr. Billycan. I was focused on the target, and after the shot, I didn’t take the time to observe what was happening. And once the shot is fired you have a ten seconds’ window before someone is going to look in the direction from which the shot was fired. Taken into account that I was on the second floor of a vacant house, I had to get out from the back door and make my way to the main road before the area would be swarmed with police officers.”
“Did you walk or run to that road?”
“No, Mr. Fauchet, you don’t run from the scene. That’s a sure way to getting caught. I walked and took the first bus that came along at the stop near the corner.” Samuel gave this explanation as if he were talking about missing the last train for the night. His face was expressionless. He showed no emotions or outward signs of remorse for having killed a man, and a compatriot to boot.
Marcel looked at him wordless. He had met many criminals in the few years since he entered the US Attorney’s office, but rarely one as cold as this one. It was almost as if the man was completely void of feelings, which he knew was not the case. How could anyone transform a man in this manner?
Darlene shivered inwardly. She, too, could not believe that a kind and loving human being could be so deadly.
As for Billycan, he uncrossed his legs, brought his chair back to the table and looked down at the report. He seemed unable to lift his eyes to Samuel. “I can tell you,” he said almost inaudibly, “that in all my years as an attorney; I seldom had the occasion to interview someone as unfeeling as you, Agent Meshullam. And yet, behind that façade, or that killing automaton, I’m convinced, resides somebody with a heart and soul.” He finally raised his gaze to him. “You are a very dangerous man, sir, and yet you are also one that holds the key to unlock the door to the many mistakes that have been made in this case.”
Samuel had his eyes riveted on the US Attorney. He knew that the man couldn’t bring himself to blame him for what happened, and for that, Samuel was silently grateful.
“Would you mind if we discuss something else right now?” Billycan asked.
“Not at all, sir. I don’t know what I could tell you, but anything that you will consider helpful, I will be glad to discuss with you.”
“Okay. You said something earlier that I’d like you to clarify for us. You said that the car tampering seemed to have been designed to kill Agent Assor. Could you explain that thought for us?”
Samuel nodded. “I can’t explain the fact, sir, but I thought it was definitely something Mossad would not do. As I said, Mossad does not leave anything to chance, and the tampering of a vehicle leaves too much to chance. I am sure this was not a Mossad job.”
“Then who? Who would you think ordered such a thing?”
“Well…, I hope you’re not asking me to point t
he finger at someone…”
“No, Agent Meshullam, I am not, but I value your opinion nonetheless, so I’ll ask you again, who do you think would be responsible for such an action?”
“It would have to be an individual with the resources to do so, and the connections to order this type of intervention.” Samuel paused. “And what bothered me the most about the car tampering is that it needed to be done hours—not days or weeks—before I was to do my job. To do that, the person would have to have access to the car during the time I was with Ishmael. I would say he had to do it the night before the incident.”
“Yes, but we still have a problem (and not only with how your prints got on the dashboard) it has to do with the airbags removal from both the steering wheel and passenger side, and to do that, I would suggest it would take more than a few minutes in the dark of night. From that we conclude the person had to be mechanically inclined and would have had a free hand to tamper with the car days before the accident.”
Samuel held up a hand. “If I may, sir?”
“Sure, go ahead...”
“I didn’t know about the airbags being removed, but since they have, I would say that somebody planned to kill Ishmael long before I arrived on the scene.”
“But you were in Flint for a few days before Ishmael returned from Paris, weren’t you?”
“If you’re asking if I tampered with the car, the answer is no. His car wasn’t even at the house when I got there. He had left it at the airport maybe... I don’t know... but it wasn’t anywhere near the house then.”
“Would you have any idea who could have tampered with his car while he was away?”
“Mr. Sadir is the only person I could think of who may have done so—not himself mind you—but he could have ordered someone to tamper with the vehicle while Ishmael was away.”
“What makes you think that?”
Samuel hesitated. “He may have had doubts that I would carry out my assignment when I reported to my contact that I had talked to Ms. Kartz and Agent Gilford in Georgia. Besides, He must also have been aware that I was to wait for Ishmael’s return. Maybe he wondered what would happen in Paris. He wouldn’t have known if I had not changed my mind, or if Mossad had not changed their order to eliminate Ishmael.”
“So, you’re saying this was just a job to ensure that Mr. Assor was killed no matter what happened?”
“Yes, that’s what I thought at the time.”
“And now? Do you still think the same?”
“Yes, partly, yes, but there is something that bothers me in what you said...”
“What’s that?”
“You described the passenger door of the car being opened by someone who was in the car...” He paused. “To me, it means there is yet somebody else involved.” Everyone nodded. “And thinking about what Ishmael said when I was with him, I can’t think of anybody...” He shook his head. “And Ishmael’s routine was quite simple; he would get dressed in the morning, get into his car and go to the nearest mall for breakfast, read the paper, and then return home to go on the internet and contact people he knew or visit a few sites where he could download some music for his collection. He had not dared contact anyone from the CIA in days. Sadir had made sure of it.”
“And from your observation, you can’t see anyone befriending him in any way during the couple of days you were with him?”
“No, no one. He shied away from the neighbours, and he hadn’t been there long enough to make friends. We generally don’t as a rule, anyway.”
“And you never rode with him in his SUV?”
“No, I had no reason for doing so. I had my own vehicle and the purpose of my visit was to observe his movements, not to travel in his company.”
“I see...” Billycan was pensive for a couple of minutes before he said, “Let’s leave the subject of the incident in Flint for the moment. We have a more troublesome situation in our hands now. As we came out of the courthouse this afternoon, Mr. Fauchet and I were approached by a man who asked us if we had arrested Agent Lypsick yet.” Billycan paused. Darlene’s mouth fell open while Samuel’s eyes didn’t leave the US Attorney’s face. Billycan gave both of them a tentative smile. “Yes, Agent Meshullam, someone is playing games.” Samuel gave him a slight nod. “But that’s not all. The man further told us that warnings were important and to watch my back. What do you suppose he meant by that?”
Samuel folded his hands in front of him and then laid them flat on the table. “Mr. Billycan, I think it is time for you to realize what and who you are dealing with. You have put Sadir behind bars and for that—as temporarily as it may be—I am grateful. Yet, the agent who was my contact was not Mr. Sadir. He didn’t send me any messages himself, of that I am sure. The man who contacted me in the two instances—that of eliminating Mr. Assor and shooting Ms. Kartz—was Agent Lypsick.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?”
“I didn’t have to reach any conclusion, sir; Agent Lypsick was waiting for me in Sydney when I returned to Australia to wait to be called back to the States to attend this trial. Besides, I had an inkling that he was indeed a Mossad agent when he interviewed me in Vancouver.”
“I see, and what else should we know about Mossad or Agent Lypsick then?”
“Agent Lypsick has been what you call in English a ‘prime-mover’ in Mossad’s organization. He himself doesn’t make decisions but he executes the decisions emanating from the direction of the organization, as I understand it.”
“So, he’s the one who would have suggested Mr. Assor’s assassination, is that correct?”
“Yes, but he was not the one who decided that Mr. Assor should be eliminated. And he is not the one who ordered the shooting of Ms. Kartz either.”
“Do you know who made the decision?”
Samuel shook his head again and looked down at his hands. “It is not one person, Mr. Billycan; it is a group of men, which cannot be identified by anyone of us. And apart from the Director of Mossad who enacts the decisions, there is what you would call a board of directors who investigates the problems and then render a unanimous decision to the Director.”
“I see. But now to come back to our little warning…”
“I wouldn’t demean the warning, Mr. Billycan, this is very serious. You and Mr. Fauchet are facing repercussions if you were not to arrest Agent Lypsick, that’s what the warning meant.”
“But we can’t just go and knock on his door and arrest him on your say-so. We haven’t got any evidence to issue such a warrant.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Billycan.” Samuel smiled at seeing the US Attorney frown at him. “Yes, sir. You need to look at the conversations Mr. Sadir had with his co-workers, with Agent Lypsick himself when they were in Vancouver and those pieces of correspondences they exchanged. Mr. Sadir is not clever but Agent Lypsick is extremely astute.”
“How do you know this, since you have only discovered him being your contact when you were in Sydney last?”
“Because he explained what he did.”
“He did?”
Samuel nodded. “Yes, Mr. Fauchet; he told me what he did in order to have Sadir arrested and tried. You have probably gathered by now that Mr. Sadir was, or is, an Islamic terrorist, whose aim was to kill as many Jews as he could while being a CIA agent of some standing. However, the fact that you have discovered, or will soon do, that Agent Lypsick accepted to forward his recommendation to Mossad, has put him in a precarious position. Mossad probably wants him arrested for collusion with the enemy. Lypsick must be aware of the pending reprisals and he’s on the run. From what you described just now, Mr. Billycan, I would conclude that Mossad is protecting itself from appearing as a willing participant in the murder of Agent Assor and the assault on Ms Kartz. Until Lypsick clears his involvement from blame, he’s going to stay in hiding.”
“And how is he going to do that?” Darlene asked. “Mossad must know that Sadir was the driving force…”
“Yes, Ms Stovall,
they do. Yet, I think there is someone else who’s behind this whole affair. Lypsick needs to find out who he is.”
“You mean who’s the ‘Puppeteer’?” Marcel put in. Everyone looked at him enquiringly. “Lypsick himself used the name when he questioned Sadir in Vancouver…”
“Yes, that’s right,” Billycan agreed.
Samuel nodded again. “In the meantime, let me assure you, Mr. Billycan, that if you consider me dangerous, you have a lot more to fear from Agent Lypsick than you do from me.”
Chapter 65
Billycan reached the kitchen counter to find his cup and coffeepot set beside the morning paper—as usual. He stared at the front page.
OUR US ATTORNEY WARNED!
He sat down and grumbled a “good morning” to Melinda, his housekeeper. She was busy preparing some poached eggs, ham and toasts behind him.
“Good morning, Mr. Lucien,” she replied distractedly. “Your picture look good.” She took the eggs out of the poacher, placed them over the ham and turned around, taking the plate from beside the stove to set it in front of the man for whom she had worked for nearly twenty years—since his wife died. “What they warning you about?”
Billycan was already reading the article on page two. “Nothing much. Thanks.” he said when Melinda deposited the plate beside the cup.
She swivelled on her heels, shrugging her shoulders. Melinda knew not to question the man any further when he was in a “groaning” mood. She would have a chance to get her own paper anyway, later on when she went to get the groceries.
“It just says that a man told me to “watch my back” yesterday when we came out of court. That’s about it.” Billycan started eating and kept on reading. Yet, that wasn’t all of it. The article went on to describe the man who accosted the US Attorney and they even had a photo of the guy beside it. A piece of toast in hand, Billycan got up and went to the phone, which he brought back to the counter and punched the number.
“Van Dams here,” he heard the Deputy Director say when he picked up the phone.
WASHINGTON DC: The Sadir Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 1) Page 25