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

by Lavina Giamusso

  When the next Monday morning came around, Glenda was ready, sitting beside Marcel with Billycan on the other side of her.

  The first witness was the Florida M.E., Dr Helldish. After being sworn in, the Doctor described his being called in the early hours of the morning and travelling to the scene of the crime to arrive there soon after the bodies were fished out of the Jackson River.

  Billycan went on, “And you attended to the victims—Mr. Al Nadir and Mr. Salaman Abib—at the scene when you were told that a double murder had been committed on the Marianne, a fishing trawler that was moored on the Jackson River. Is that correct, Doctor?”

  The audience was sitting on the edge of their seats, a feeling of imminent revelation in the atmosphere. Thus far, the evidence and witnesses had provided everyone with a sense of direction—a direction leading to the truth and Sadir’s conviction.

  “Yes, Mr. Billycan. I was called very early that morning to travel to the scene of the crime and I arrived soon after the two bodies were lifted out of the water and settled on the pier.”

  “Did you notice anything particular about either or both corpses when you first examined the victims?”

  Doctor Helldish, a man in is forties, looked down at the exquisitely well-carved banister trimming the witness stand on two sides, and then up at the US Attorney. “The bodies of both men had been in the water for less than twelve hours and there wasn’t much bloating, and decomposition had not really set in yet. The particular thing I noticed was that only one man had a bruise on the lower part of his jaw. Other than that neither man had any marks on them, such as would be the case if the victims had been involved in a struggle of some type or a fist-fight before they were thrown overboard and into the water.”

  “Now, Doctor Helldish, did you determine the cause of death of both victims?”

  “Yes, sir, I did…”

  Billycan raised a hand. “I’m sorry, Doctor—my mistake—let’s concentrate on one victim at a time. What was the cause of death for Mr. Al Nadir?”

  “Mr. Nadir’s neck had been broken. His head hung in an odd position when he was pulled out of the water. That’s the reason why I could tell he had been taken in a forceful choke-hold and the cerebral vertebrae had snapped under pressure.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. What about Mr. Salaman Abib, what did you determine was the primary cause of his demise?”

  “There was a single puncture mark on the man’s abdomen, which I determined later, when I examined him at the morgue, to be a knife wound.”

  “And this knife wound, anything particular about it?”

  “Yes, given the length, depth and width of the blade, we couldn’t immediately determine what sort of knife had been used to inflict such a wound.”

  “Were you able to determine what type of knife was used later on?”

  “Yes, we finally did, when we received a weapon that had been forwarded to the Florida police in the last three months.”

  Billycan turned to the evidence table, picked up the plastic bag containing Talya’s knife and brought it to the witness. “Is this the knife?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. Your Honour”—Billycan looked up at Silverman—“the Prosecution introduces this knife, marked Exhibit 10, into evidence and tender to opposing counsel.”

  “So noted, Mr. Billycan. Mr. Simmons?”

  “No objection, Your Honour.”

  “Very well then, you may proceed, Mr. Billycan.”

  “Thank you, Your Honour.” The US Attorney went to replace the knife on the table and returned to face the witness. “Now, Doctor, could you tell us if the knife wound indicated that the victim died instantly?”

  “Not instantly, no. Such a wound generally indicates that the victim would have died some time after sustaining such injury.”

  “Okay, thank you, Doctor.” Billycan paused. “Now, I am going to ask you to be as precise as possible, if you can, in answering my next questions.”

  “Okay...” Dr Helldish switched position in the chair.

  “Did the victim, Mr. Salaman Abib, die from the knife wound?”

  “When I first examined the victim, at the scene of the crime, it was my initial conclusion, yes.”

  “Did you reach the same conclusion when you perform the autopsy on Mr. Abib?”

  “No. I did not.”

  “What did you conclude after the autopsy, Doctor?”

  “Mr. Abib died by drowning. I found water in the lungs, which is a clear indication of the manner in which this victim died.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Billycan bowed slightly. “And then, did you determine how long of an interval there was between the times the victim was wounded and his body reached the water?”

  “That’s hard to say precisely, Mr. Billycan, but as far as I could tell, the victim hadn’t lost much blood after being knifed, so I concluded that his body reached the water within minutes of being injured.”

  “Were there any other determining factors that helped you in reaching your conclusion, Doctor?”

  “Yes, of course, there was the length of time the body had been in the water and the body’s lividity, both of which provided me with an approximate time of death.”

  “Thank you. Now I’ll ask you this; would you be able to say if the victim fell or was thrown overboard as you suggested earlier?”

  “That’s a difficult one... I said that the victim was probably thrown overboard, because when a victim sustains such a knife injury, he or she would instinctively buckle and slump to the floor, holding his stomach. He or she wouldn’t bend over a railing and fall into the water. Besides, the forensic team found blood splatters on the deck of the trawler, which indicated that the victim had been knifed several feet away from the railing.”

  “When you say the ‘forensic team found blood splatters on the deck of the trawler’, could you tell the court which forensic team you are referring to? Was it the Florida police CSI team?”

  “Hum, no... That was the FBI’s team.”

  “How did you know these forensic technicians were from the FBI—did they tell you they were?”

  “Well…, not in so many words, no. The agent in charge of the investigation had called me to the scene. He identified himself as being FBI so I assumed the forensic guys were, too.”

  “I see, and did this agent give you his name?”

  “Yes, he said his name was Agent Verduccio.” Glenda looked up at the witness suddenly. She remembered the officers, who led the investigation later, mention the name.

  “Did you know why the FBI led this investigation and not the regular police department at the time?”

  “No, sir, I had no idea. I just did what I was told.”

  “And when you finished ‘doing what you were told’, Doctor, did you send your report to the FBI as well as to the Florida police?”

  “Well, not exactly…”

  “What do you mean by ‘not exactly’, Doctor?”

  “Well…, Agent Verduccio asked me to send him two copies of the report and said that he would forward a copy to the Jacksonville Precinct himself. I assumed he did so in due course.”

  “Wasn’t that against procedures?”

  “Yes, it was—or at least I thought it was—but when the FBI is involved you don’t ask questions.”

  That answer provoked a wave of laughter and tittering among the audience and the jurors.

  Once Silverman’s gavel had imposed the return of silence to the audience, Billycan concluded, “Again, thank you, Doctor, for your patience and precise answers.” The US Attorney then turned and walked back to his table. “I have no more questions for this witness, Your Honour.”

  “Mr. Simmons—your witness.” Silverman seemed to be completely absorbed into the proceedings now. For the past several days, his whole attitude had grown in intensity and into a deeply attentive demeanour.

  “Thank you, Your Honour.” Simmons rose and went to stand in front of the witness. “Good morning, Doctor.�
��

  “Good morning,” the M.E. replied mechanically.

  “Now, Doctor, did you have an occasion to examine the knife that was used to kill Mr. Salaman Abib?”

  Billycan had heard the question and couldn’t believe his ears. “Your Honour! Objection. The prosecution has just demonstrated that Mr. Abib wasn’t killed in this manner—he died by drowning. Move to strike.”

  “All right, all right, Mr. Billycan, don’t get your knickers in a knot!” That did it. The tension in the audience and jury was already so stretched that the elastic band snapped into an explosion of laughter. Billycan had to smile, and so did Simmons, while Silverman was banging his gavel and calling, “Order in court, order in court.” As the laughter abated, the judge’s eyes fell on Simmons. “I will not tolerate your mistakes for much longer, Mr. Simmons. Objection sustained. The record will be stricken of that last question. The jury is instructed to disregard, and as for you, Mr. Simmons: REPHRASE!”

  “Yes, Your Honour. I’m sorry, Doctor. Did you have occasion to examine the knife that was used in the wounding of Mr. Abib?”

  Still trying to regain a smidgen of composure, Dr Helldish didn’t dare look at the judge or anyone when he answered, “Only to verify that it matched the wound of the victim.”

  “Had you ever seen such a weapon being used on any other victim that you may have examined during your career?”

  “No, sir. The knife appeared to be some sort of artefact or relic. I only recalled seeing similar weapons in museum or cultural displays.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  Billycan knew where this line of questioning was going to lead, once Simmons would have his chance at calling witnesses for the defence. The knife was of North African origin and he would endeavour to show that Talya was tied somehow to the Al-Fadir family and to the alleged conspiracy between her and Ishmael Assor. He bent down to Glenda’s ear. “Did you have a weapons’ expert examine the knife?”

  The Florida ADA shook her head.

  Simmons went on, “When you said that the FBI was at the scene of the crime when you arrived, did you ask Agent Verduccio to show you his badge or proof of his identity?”

  “No, sir. I didn’t see any reason to do so.”

  “Why was that, Doctor?”

  “Well…, because Agent Verduccio and the forensic guys were wearing the FBI jackets, so I didn’t see any need to ask anyone for their IDs.”

  “I see. But when this Agent Verduccio asked you to send two autopsy reports to him, as you testified just now, didn’t that sound suspicious?”

  “Yeah, it did, but as I said, I didn’t want to question an FBI order.”

  “So, let me see if I understand this; if someone tells you he’s an FBI agent you don’t ask question and do what the agent says?”

  “Not usually, no, but really in this case, I only questioned the fact that the agent was cutting corners. I just presumed that he wanted to talk to the police captain himself.”

  “So, from your testimony can we conclude that Agent Verduccio was not the person he pretended to be? Is that a possibility, Doctor?”

  The M.E. nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose it could be possible.”

  “Thank you, Doctor, that’s all,” Simmons said, going back to his table.

  Silverman looked at the defence attorney’s back, a frown coming across his brow. He then smiled down at the doctor. “Thank you, Doctor, you may step down.”

  Billycan was on his feet. “Your Honour, at this point we would like to ask for a ten-minute recess—time to confer with Ms. Blake.”

  Silverman frowned again. He didn’t like this sort of interruption. “All right, Mr. Billycan, you got it. Ten minute recess, Ladies and Gentlemen.” He then pounded his gavel and stepped off the bench.

  As soon as the judge was out of the courtroom, Billycan caught Marcel’s gaze. “Get a weapons’ expert to examine that knife as soon as possible. I would also like to see His Highness, Prince Khalid, take the stand as soon as he can free himself.” Marcel was practically running out of the courtroom when he heard the last of Billycan’s words.

  Glenda showed her surprise. Her mouth fell open. “You mean the Prince is here—in D.C.?”

  “Yes, my dear, he is, and his uncle is too. They’re both going to get this show on the road in a big way.” He smiled at the bewildered ADA. “This is D.C., Ms. Blake, no half measure.”

  “No, I guess not,” Glenda replied, grabbing her briefcase from beside her chair. “I can hardly wait to meet him.” She looked up at the US Attorney with regained composure and a tad of challenge in her eyes.

  Chapter 73

  “I’ll do you one better than that,” Khalid replied when he heard Marcel on the phone ask if he would be free to take the stand that afternoon, giving him the reasons for his request. “I knew it would come down to explaining the knife’s provenance and I’ve already asked my brother to join us in Washington. He’s on his way as we speak. He should be ready to testify in the morning.”

  An awkward silence ensued. Marcel, or Billycan for that matter, hadn’t planned on Salamir Al-Fadir Sahab being called in at all—certainly not so soon. “I’m very sorry, Prince Khalid, but this is going to be a surprise for Mr. Billycan. However, I think we can arrange for your brother to take the stand in the next couple of days, yes.”

  “Mr. Fauchet, you need to be assured that my brother is better placed to answer your questions; not only about the knife, but as regards the events that led my father to be involved with the drug trafficking, which the CIA had organized originally with the helpful assistance of Mr. Osnoir.”

  Marcel was lost now. That was a bit much to take at once. This case was getting farther reaching in time and scope by the minute. “I am unable to respond, Your Highness. I haven’t been briefed in the matters you described just now. Would you mind if Mr. Billycan calls you himself during the lunch recess?”

  “By all means, Mr. Fauchet, I’ll be in my suite at that time.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll get him to call you as soon as he’s free.”

  “Don’t mention it. Good day to you, Mr. Fauchet.”

  When Marcel returned to the courtroom and told Billycan what the prince had said, Billycan couldn’t help but gawk at his assistant. “Are you telling me that we will be able to get a full explanatory statement from the prince’s brother?” Marcel nodded. “Alright then, we’ve got to get a continuance or at least an adjournment for the day. We’ve got to prepare for this. Get Ms. Stovall in my office as soon as you can. I’ll need her to attend the interview.” Soon after Marcel left the courtroom, Silverman reappeared and stepped up to the bench.

  “May we approach, Your Honour?” Billycan asked immediately after the bailiff declared the court in session again.

  “Yes, Mr. Billycan. Mr. Simmons, please approach.”

  When both attorneys were close enough to the bench, Silverman placed his hand on the microphone. “What’s going on, Mr. Billycan?”

  “One of our witnesses is flying in from Nouakchott, Your Honour, and we would like to have the time to interview him in the morning. We will be asking for a continuance, Your Honour.” Billycan turned to Simmons. “If my colleague doesn’t mind.”

  Simmons didn’t return the gaze but looked up at Silverman when he said, “We’ve got no objection, Your Honour. We actually would like the time to complete the preparation of our defence in view of the added witnesses.”

  “Well, it seems that everyone would be happy for the break, so go ahead, Mr. Billycan... How long?”

  “Three days, Your Honour.”

  “Okay then, go ahead.”

  Billycan and Simmons returned to their respective seats but Billycan remained standing beside his chair.

  Within a few minutes court was adjourned for three days—until the following Thursday at 9:00AM.

  “Okay, let’s see if Prince Khalid can see us in a half-an-hour.” He looked at Marcel who was closing his phone.

  “Yes, sir. I was
just talking to Ms. Stovall; she’ll be at your office anytime her presence is required for that interview.”

  Glenda was trying to keep up. This string of events and the rapidity at which things evolved in this case was all new to her. She was not new to courts’ proceedings, but this was not her usual run-of-the-mill case by any means. She looked up at Billycan while Marcel was on the phone with Khalid again.

  “What would you like me to do?”

  “Stay with us and observe, Ms. Blake. Just observe. You’ll be attending interviews in the next two and half days that could be useful for you to recall if I ask you to examine witnesses on the stand.”

  “Me? You want me to examine your witnesses? I don’t think I can, Mr. Billycan, I might bungle things for you...” That was a polite rebuff when, in fact, Glenda looked forward to having her chance at the Al-Fadir family. She had her opinion of these Muslim royalties—not a good one either.

  Billycan smiled kindly down at her. “I’m quite sure you won’t, Ms. Blake, and it’s about time you get your feet wet, don’t you think?” Glenda’s bewilderment didn’t abate. “And why did you think I asked you to second chair in this trial? You’ve got to work for your stipend, my dear.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, though, I won’t throw you to the wolves until you’re ready.” Glenda bent her head and looked at her feet. She was not about to let Billycan know how she really felt. She’d leave that for the courtroom. Billycan turned to Marcel. “All right, is the prince available?”

  “Yes, sir, he’s invited us for lunch, in his suite. He said we’ll have more privacy then.”

  “Very good. Shall we?” Billycan stretched an arm in the direction of the doors of the courthouse.