WASHINGTON DC: The Sadir Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 1)

by Lavina Giamusso

  Again, Hamilton flipped through to the page and read, “The latent prints lifted from the rifle described above, have been identified as belonging to Mr. Samuel Meshullam—the registered owner of the said weapon.” He closed the binder.

  “Okay, Detective, thank you. Now let me ask you this; were there any other prints on the rifle?”

  “No, sir, none.”

  “Thank you for your assistance, Detective.” The US Attorney then went back to his table saying, “I have no more question for this witness, Your Honour.”

  “All right then. Mr. Simmons?”

  “Yes, Your Honour, thank you.” The defence attorney got up from his chair and walked slowly toward the witness. He looked tired, not to say harassed. He hadn’t heard from Gill yet and that definitely was a bad sign. “Detective Hamilton, good morning.”

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “You’ve testified a few minutes ago that the bullet’s trajectory indicated that the sniper actually aimed at the body of the victim rather than the head, is that correct?”

  “That’s what the forensic people said in their report, yes.”

  Simmons nodded. “And did it say that Ms. Kartz could have been shot anywhere else apart from the upper body or head?”

  “No, I don’t believe so, no.”

  “And we’ve heard in a previous testimony that the shot appeared to be designed to do harm to the victim but not to kill. Would you agree with that conclusion?”

  Billycan raised a hand. “Your Honour…? Detective Hamilton is not an expert in medicine—not that we’re aware of,” he sneered.

  “Objection sustained.” Silverman frowned down at the defence attorney. “Rephrase, Mr. Simmons, and watch your step.”

  “Yes, Your Honour—I’m sorry.” Crestfallen, Simmons returned to face the witness. “I’m sorry, Detective, but let me rephrase the question. If you were in a position whereby you had to stop a perpetrator from running away from you, say, and after you identified yourself properly, would you then shoot the said perpetrator anywhere in particular?”

  “I don’t know how you do things here in the States, sir, but in Canada, we rarely—almost never in fact—shoot an escaping felon.” Simmons was about to interrupt him, but the detective was quicker on the uptake. “But I’ve got an idea of what you’re getting at, so let me help you…” That again lit up the courtroom with flares of snickers and giggles.

  The judge pounded his gavel a couple of times and as soon as silence was restored, he turned to the witness. “All right, Detective, why don’t you address your answer to the court—I think that will help everyone at this juncture.”

  Detective Hamilton smiled. “Okay, Judge. If I had to stop anyone in any circumstances, and use a weapon, say a gun, I would not fire it at the body of the person, rather at his legs or even his feet, to make sure I’d stop him without injuring him too seriously. Is that the answer you were looking for?” He looked at Simmons, who appeared absolutely devastated.

  “Please address your query to the court, Detective.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Honour. But was that okay?”

  “Yes, Detective, that was ‘okay’, as you say.” He swivelled his chair and looked at each attorney in turn. “Approach, gentlemen!” Silverman was not happy. When both counsels were in earshot, he again masked the microphone with his hand. “Mr. Simmons, I am appalled at your conduct of this cross-examination. I won’t have this sort of flimflam in my courtroom. And I shouldn’t be the one teaching you how to ask a question from a foreign witness.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Honour, it won’t happen again.”

  “You bet it won’t.” He turned to the US Attorney. “And I hope for your sake, Mr. Billycan, that you’ll be able to connect the prints identified on the weapon to any prints that may have been made on that same rifle during the first shooting.”

  “Yes, I will, Your Honour.”

  “Okay then. Let’s proceed, Mr. Simmons.”

  “Thank you, Your Honour.”

  Chapter 69

  As the day drew to a close, Billycan was asked once again to elaborate on any evidence that had been presented during the day. Having established that the prints on the rifle belonged solely to Agent Meshullam and that the same weapon had been used in both crimes, Billycan stressed that it was unlikely that the Mossad agent could have been a passenger in Mr. Assor’s SUV at the time he was shooting the man. The only conclusion that the members of the jury could draw from these facts was that Agent Meshullam was indeed the sniper who had shot and killed Mr. Assor in the first instance, and shot and injured Ms. Kartz in the second instance.

  Given that his corroborating witness—the person who had supposedly seen Agent Meshullam come out of Mr. Assor’s vehicle after the accident—had disappeared suddenly, Simmons didn’t object to Billycan demonstrating that Meshullam was the person who committed both felonies.

  Once court was adjourned, Marcel rushed to the US Attorney’s office to make sure everything was ready for their meeting with Meshullam and his solicitor. They would use the conference room rather than Billycan’s office this time. Meanwhile, Billycan decided he had time to swing by the newspaper’s office and told Carl, his driver, to take him to the ‘Staff Entrance’ of the building. He didn’t want to be noticed by anyone, if he could avoid it. When he came out of the lift on the top floor and walked through the aisles leading to the Editor-in-Chief’s office, he noticed that most of the staff had left for the day and that the night employees had not come in yet, which was exactly what he hoped would happen.

  “Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in,” said the Editor as he pulled himself out of his chair. “Come in, Mr. US Attorney, and have a seat. This is quite a surprise. What are you doing here?”

  Billycan plopped himself into the chair and looked up at the man looking down at him. “You know why I’m here, Bill, so don’t ask.”

  “I gather our front page this morning stirred quite a few emotions, didn’t it?”

  “As you say, yes it did. One in particular, I was curious to find out why you let this person go so easily. None of your reporters chased him after he proffered his little warning to me. I found that very strange and led me to conclude that perhaps he was a plant…”

  As Bill went around his desk to sit in the swivel chair, he shook his head slowly and gave Billycan a chortle. “No, Lucien, nothing like that.”

  “How do you account for your reporters not chasing after him then?”

  “Because the guy came to us beforehand and told us what he wanted to do.”

  Billycan recovered from the shock quickly. “Well then, I suppose you’ve given his description and particulars to Van Dams when he called you today—at least, I hope you did—otherwise I’ll have you up on charges for obstruction so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

  Bill didn’t answer right away. He reclined so far in his seat that Billycan wondered how long it would be before he fell backward. “I told Mr. Van Dams what I will tell you. The guy introduced himself as a CIA agent. He said he had something to tell you that night and if we were interested to hear what he had to say, to be there when you came out of the courthouse.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Well…, not quite... He said if he was asked questions afterward, the CIA was ready to make trouble for us—so we didn’t.”

  “Okay, but what about the other reporters, why didn’t they chase after him either, do you know, or did you alert them of what was going to happen?”

  “Huh-huh, I got one of the guys in here to call around and tell his colleagues not to make waves, otherwise they’d be in trouble same as we would.”

  “All right, thanks for seeing me...” Billycan got up, stopped and then turned around. “One more question; did Van Dams confirm this guy was CIA?”

  “No.” Bill exhaled a breath of dismay. “As a matter of fact, he was fuming when he hung up this morning. And I shouldn’t wonder, they sure don’t like impersonators—especially now, when one of t
heir men is on trial for murder—not very good for their reputation, is it?”

  Billycan smirked and walked out of the Editor’s office without another word.

  Short of asking Lypsick to attend this evening’s gathering, Billycan decided to have Mark Gilford attend the meeting. Mark held information regarding his and Lypsick’s first interview of Samuel, and he thought it would be a good time to confront the CSIS agent with it.

  Mark was in the hotel lounge, sitting in front of a tall drink reading the paper. Billycan cringed when he saw him. He was not intending to broach the subject of the article with Mark this soon. He strode to where Mark was sitting and stood in front of the table. “Good afternoon, Agent Gilford.” He stood still, looking down at the agent.

  Mark raised his head slowly and smiled, closing the paper. “Mr. Billycan, this is a surprise. Why don’t you join me?” He indicated a chair beside his.

  “No time, Agent Gilford. I came to invite you to attend a meeting in my office in a half-an-hour. If you have no other plans, your presence would be of considerable assistance to me.”

  Mark shook his head and smiled again. “Why don’t you have a seat anyway?” Billycan did but reluctantly. “I don’t like to raise my voice in a public place to answer a question, you understand.” Billycan nodded imperceptibly. “Yes, I’ll attend your meeting, but could you tell me who other than you and I will be there, so I could be prepared?”

  Billycan sat back and crossed his legs, putting his gloves on the raised thigh. “Samuel Meshullam does not trust his lawyer to do his job, and I believe you have information that could eventually demonstrate to the shyster that he’s got nowhere to go if he tries to show that Sadir is innocent of the crimes he’s accused of. That’s why I want you there.”

  Mark looked down at the paper beside him. “Why not invite Agent Lypsick to the meeting then? He seems to know a lot more about this than I would.” Mark knew the answer to the question. He raised his gaze to the US Attorney.

  The latter threw a quick glance at the paper. “You’ve read the article. All I want to know is if I could count on you to assist me in this matter”

  “Okay then, as long as I don’t have to put myself in an awkward position, from which I would have to extricate myself later.”

  “As long as you tell the truth, you won’t have anything to worry about,” Billycan replied, smiling.

  Mark got up and so did the US Attorney. “That’s a phrase I heard before...” He chortled. “Let’s go then.”

  Chapter 70

  When Billycan and Mark reached the US Attorney’s offices, Samuel and his solicitor, Mr. Michael Greenstein, were already waiting in the anteroom. They stood up. Marcel came out of the conference room at the same moment and shot a quick glance in Billycan’s direction.

  “Are we ready, Mr. Fauchet?”

  “Yes, sir.” Marcel took a few steps toward the four men. “Agent Meshullam, nice to see you again, sir.” He turned to Samuel’s solicitor. “I am Marcel Fauchet, Assistant US Attorney.” He offered his hand to him.

  The lawyer took it in a limp, sweaty handshake. “How do you do, sir.” Then to the US Attorney on his right, “This is Mr. Lucien Billycan, our US Attorney.”

  Greenstein shook hands with Billycan. He grimaced. “And I’m sure you recall Agent Gilford,” he said to Samuel, switching his attention to the CSIS agent.

  More handshakes. “Hi, mate, how are you?”

  “Keeping on the prowl,” Mark answered, patting Samuel’s shoulder. The latter chuckled.

  Marcel then stretched a hand and pointed to the door of the conference room. As the five men entered the room, Billycan took his coat off and handed it to his secretary who had come in to place jugs of water in the middle of the table and a folder at the head of it. “Thanks,” he said to her, and sat down. “Please, have a seat, gentlemen.”

  Mark sat to the US Attorney’s right while Samuel and Greenstein sat to his left.

  “I’ll be in my office, sir,” Marcel said, “If you need me” and left the room quietly as Billycan nodded knowingly to him.

  The US Attorney then unbuttoned his jacket and looked at the three men. “This is going to be an informal discussion about Agent Meshullam’s testimony, gentlemen.” The men smiled and nodded, although the Australian solicitor appeared nervous. His small, encased black eyes darted round the room. His frown and sallow jaws firmly etched in the line of his face, Greenstein would have been the perfect extra in an old western movie, playing the part of the undesirable mortician. The wiry hands barely visible out of the sleeves of a tired charcoal suit with a white shirt that had seen better days; his attire didn’t reflect his station in life.

  “As you are no doubt aware, Mr. Greenstein, the justice department has granted full immunity to Agent Meshullam in exchange for which, he will give us all relevant information he can provide in regards to the crimes for which Mr. Muhammad Sadir is on trial right now. Were you aware of these conditions, Mr. Greenstein?”

  “Yes, I was made aware of these conditions and the terms of granting full immunity to my client, prior to us leaving Australia, yes.”

  “Thank you, sir. And you, Agent Meshullam, were you aware of these conditions before leaving Australia?”

  “Yes, I was, sir. Mr. Greenstein interviewed me soon after being retained as my solicitor and I gave him a statement that, I believe, fulfilled these conditions.”

  “I will now show you this statement”—Billycan took out a sheaf of paper out of the folder in front of him and handed it to Samuel—“and ask you if you could confirm for us that this is your statement—the one you signed in Sydney and sent to us for recording.”

  Samuel leafed through the pages, his eyes travelling through the document quickly. He nodded. “Yes, Mr. Billycan, that’s the statement I made.” He handed the sheaf of paper back to the US Attorney.

  “Thank you, Agent Meshullam. Now, do you have anything to add to the statement you’ve made at the time you were still in Sydney?”

  Samuel didn’t know what he should or should not say. “I don’t know what I could add, which would be relevant, sir.”

  “Let me help you then. Let’s go back to the time you arrived in Vancouver and when you were taken to an apartment where you were interviewed by Agent Lypsick of the CIA and Agent Gilford of CSIS in Ottawa. Do you recall the interview?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Greenstein shifted in his chair. He wanted to interrupt, and he did. “I’m sorry, Mr. Billycan, but I haven’t been apprised of the conversation that you say occurred in Vancouver. May I see a statement or a record of this interview, before we proceed?”

  “No, Mr. Greenstein, you may not!” The solicitor clenched his jaw. “If your client was on trial at this time, then yes, I would have a duty to show you evidence that would tie Agent Meshullam to the crimes—but he’s not. The interview in question is part of the body of evidence we have compiled against Mr. Muhammad Sadir, and unless you have been retained to defend Mr. Sadir, this evidence will not be released to you at this time.”

  “Then I would have to object to my client being interrogated about something that happened in Vancouver and before he returned to Australia awaiting Mr. Sadir’s trial.”

  “Why would you have any objection, Mr. Greenstein? This interview is not part of the conditions that were fulfilled in order to grant your client immunity. Besides, if you don’t know anything about this interview, as you claim, you have no reason to object to my asking any question in that regard. Unless, you know something that you’re afraid Agent Meshullam would divulge. Do you, Mr. Greenstein?”

  “As I said, I have not been apprised of the content of this interview, and I have not had a chance to talk to my client about it…”

  “That’s not my problem, Mr. Greenstein. If you failed in your duty to interview your client properly before you came to Washington, it’s your failure, not mine and you shouldn’t impede the investigation of the evidence presented to this office, otherwise we could
see what we could do to have you held on charges of obstruction.”

  Greenstein knew the law, perhaps better than anyone in the room did, and he knew he couldn’t prevent Billycan from questioning his client. He looked down briefly. “All right then. But for the record I wish to stress that I strongly object to my client being interrogated at this time.”

  Billycan’s stern look didn’t leave any doubt in Greenstein’s mind that he was there in sufferance. “Okay then. Now, Agent Meshullam, could you tell us what you discussed during the interview that occurred in Vancouver about eight months after Ms. Kartz was shot in the park across the street from her apartment?”

  Samuel brushed a side-glance past his solicitor. “Agent Lypsick asked me several questions about my relationship to Ms. Kartz and…”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Agent Meshullam—my fault—but we’ll need to go through one question at a time.” Samuel nodded and stretched his forearms on the table. “So, did you answer Agent Lypsick’s questions then?”

  “Yes, I did. I told him that I knew Ms. Kartz for about ten years then.”

  “And during those ten years, did you and Ms. Kartz develop an intimate relationship?”

  “And how relevant is that to proving Mr. Sadir guilty…?” Greenstein spurted at Billycan’s face.

  Billycan’s eyes, imposing of severity, fell on the solicitor’s reddened cheeks. “I’ll let you decide, Mr. Greenstein.” The US Attorney threw a kinder and fleeting look to Samuel. “Do you mind answering my question, Agent Meshullam?”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “And that was prior to you leaving Australia and being enrolled in Mossad as an agent?”

  “Yes. I left Australia and went to Israel where I was engaged and trained as a Mossad agent for some seven years now.”

  “Good. And what else, if anything, did Agent Lypsick ask you during that interview?”

  “He asked if I knew who my contact in Mossad was.”

  “And were you able to tell him?”