Shortly after Will hung up, the e-mail on his computer chimed. He opened the message and started downloading a large file of electronic documents forwarded from the Palestinian Authority by Tiny.
As he scrolled through the documents setting forth his first preview of the prosecution’s case against his client, Will had one distinct impression. Not surprisingly, the Palestinian prosecutor’s case had already built up a frightening level of momentum. It was as if they had tied Gilead to an anvil and thrown him off the top of a skyscraper.
Now it was entirely up to Will to see if he could reverse gravity.
41
SAMIR ZAYED WAS THE PROSECUTOR for the Palestinian International Tribunal. A Palestinian lawyer in his forties with a boyish face and close-cropped hair, clean shaven, with darting aggressive eyes, he stood before the bank of microphones in Ramallah.
He flashed a confident smile and then began addressing the bevy of reporters and television cameramen.
“Yesterday, in the late afternoon, law-enforcement agents for the Palestinian Authority secured a confession from a suspect in the so-called Temple Mount bombings. We Muslims will continue to refer to it as the ‘Noble Sanctuary,’ since, as you know, Muslims own and control that area which was cruelly and murderously bombed. The suspect was taken into custody shortly after the cowardly and barbaric attack took place. His name is Scott Magnit. He is an American citizen.
“Mr. Magnit is a very important person in this investigation,” Zayed continued, “because he was part of the inner circle of three persons who, along with Gilead Amahn, their spiritual leader, plotted to destroy the Noble Sanctuary and murder hundreds of Muslims. Yesterday Mr. Magnit signed a confession admitting that he and his two fellow inner-circle members of the Knights of the Temple Mount planned the destruction of the al-Aqsa Mosque in the Dome of the Rock. But this is very important—Mr. Magnit also confessed that Hassan Gilead Amahn knew all of the detailed plans for the destruction of the mosque through the terrorist act of bombing. That Mr. Amahn knew the date of the destruction and knowingly gave the signal for the bombing to occur. In addition, that Mr. Amahn welcomed the support and accolades of the various members of the Knights of the Temple Mount, permitting himself to be called the High Caliph of the group and parading himself before the world as the manifestation of a messiah. All of this, Mr. Scott Magnit has admitted in writing, in his confession. I will be glad to answer your questions.”
“Who were the other two members of the inner circle?” one reporter bulleted out.
“One was Mr. Louis Lorraine, a French national,” Zayed replied. “Mr. Lorraine detonated the device that exploded the Dome of the Rock. The other was Mr. Yossin Ali Khalid, a Lebanese national. He detonated the bomb in the al-Aqsa Mosque. Both Mr. Lorraine and Mr. Khalid were shot to death by the Israeli Defense Force after the explosion. That was a pity. One wonders what they might have told us.
“Louis Lorraine was a former member of the French cultic religious group Solar Temple. At some unspecified time he converted to the radical and violent terrorist religion of the Knights of the Temple Mount. Mr. Yossin Ali Khalid, whose father was a caliph in the Knights of the Temple Mount, was—as his father was—a former member of the Druze religion. The Druze religion is a perverted form of Islam and is rejected by the Islamic muftis. But the Knights of the Temple Mount believed in a terrorist and violent religion that was a subcult of the Druze religion and was rejected even by the Druze leaders.”
“What do you mean when you say that Amahn was the High Caliph of the Knights of the Temple Mount?”
“I mean to say,” Zayed said confidently, “that he was the spiritual potentate of this very violent and terrorist religious group. He gave the orders. He gave the spiritual signal. He blasphemed the heavenly religion of Islam and the truth of Allah by leading his infidels in an attack against the Noble Sanctuary.”
Another reporter yelled over the sea of voices.
“Has Scott Magnit been given a lie-detector test?”
Mr. Zayed smiled and chuckled.
“That is a very Western question, if you will permit me to say so. Here in the emerging state of Palestine, we have an ancient tradition of truth-telling and truth-seeking. We have spent much time with Mr. Magnit. We have asked him clear questions, and he has given us clear answers. And the truth he tells against Mr. Amahn is like a mosaic. Have you not seen pictures of our mosques and our beautiful historical structures? A mosaic is a picture made up of many brightly colored stones. Our case against Mr. Amahn is made up of many pieces of stone. And Mr. Magnit’s confession supplies many, many stones that fit with the other stones, and the picture shows that Hassan Gilead Amahn is an evil and fanatical butcher. He has used religion and the Bible in an attempt to ignite a terrible war. So we are seeking the death penalty. And we are confident we will get it.”
At that point a staff member of the Palestinian Authority’s Office of the Public Prosecutor scurried out of the building and whispered something into Samir Zayed’s ear.
The prosecutor smiled and waved to the cameras and shouting reporters as he turned to leave.
One question was yelled out louder than the others, and it caught his attention as he walked away.
“What about the reports that Scott Magnit was physically mistreated?”
Zayed stopped, turned quickly, and walked back to the microphones.
“It is such a pity—so unfortunate that you must deal with such lies. I am so sorry you cannot see the truth. Mr. Magnit receives regular medical attention. He receives nourishing food. He has visitors. And we are treating him with the kindness that we would our own family members.”
He waved broadly, flashed one final grin, and headed to the Prosecution Building.
But another question rose above the mass of yelling reporters.
“What effect will this trial against Amahn have on the peace negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians? What happens if Amahn is found not guilty?”
The prosecutor did not turn around or acknowledge the question as he headed to the doorway behind him.
What the reporters could not see was that his expression had changed. After that final question, he was no longer smiling.
42
IN HIS OFFICE THAT MORNING, Will Chambers had been waiting for a call back from Mike Michalany, his forensics consultant. Will had shipped to Mike all of the discovery and investigative information that he had obtained from Tiny Heftland on the explosion.
Michalany had received an intensive baptism into the world of terrorist-orchestrated bombings, having helped to investigate the 1998 al-Qaeda–directed bombings of the U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania. He had also been part of the investigative team for the first bombing of the World Trade Center and had helped construct a failure analysis of the Twin Towers after the 9/11 attack.
Will figured that the former FBI agent would be the perfect person to provide consultation—perhaps even testimony as an expert witness in the Amahn trial…depending, of course, on his findings.
But despite repeated calls, Will had not gotten a contact back from him.
The attorney flipped his planner open and compared it with the tentative schedule he had outlined for the next two months. The preparation of his defense of Gilead Amahn required that almost every day for the next two months be mapped out with some litigation duty: fact investigation, legal research, or consultation with experts.
And Will knew that, inevitably, the ordinary rigors of his law practice, coupled with Jacki’s leave of absence for her pregnancy, would end up overburdening the office. And that, in turn, would lead to long hours, including evenings and possibly every weekend as well.
And exactly where does that leave my wife and family? Will wondered to himself. Jacki had been right. And so had Fiona. And perhaps so had Len Redgrove with his cryptic warning. And maybe even reporter Jack Hornby.
Will was seeing his life mercilessly stretched, pulled, and pummeled by this one case alone.
“Excuse me, Will,” Hilda said in an exasperated voice as she poked her head into his office, “but I’ve got two more reporters holding asking for your reaction to the press conference that the Palestinian public prosecutor gave yesterday.”
Will paused for a moment and rubbed his face. “Tell them I’ll be releasing a statement. Get their e-mail addresses or fax numbers. Tell them we’ll get it to them within the hour.”
Will turned his attention back to his planner.
Then he had a thought. He needed to aggressively carve out some time for himself and his wife. He quickly dialed Fiona’s cell phone. She had flown up to Philadelphia for a full day of meetings with the new recording executive for her label, her concert manager, her personal attorney, and her agent. After her emotional setback from Angus’s death had taken her out of the loop for several concert tours, one of the owners of a performance venue had threatened to sue for breach of contract. Will knew it was going to be a long, difficult day for her.
He got her right away.
“Hey, honey,” Will said. “I don’t want to disturb your meeting. Do you have a second?”
“I’m just walking back into the meeting room right now. We just got through with a fifteen-minute break,” Fiona said. Her voice had a world-weary tone to it.
“While I have you on the line,” she went on, “Chuck Evans asked if you could do him a favor. He says he knows his role is to be my private contract attorney, but he would really appreciate it if you could take a look at the contract language that’s causing the problem. He asked if I could bring it home when I fly back tonight. He just wanted to get your input…”
“No problem,” Will said. “Tell Chuck I have a great deal of confidence in him. But if he wants me to second-look the documents, that’s fine. When you come home tonight, honey, bring them with you.”
“I appreciate it,” she said. “Got to go…”
“Fiona?”
“Yes?”
“I noticed your plane’s coming in about seven tonight. Why don’t I pick you up at the airport and let me take you out to dinner? Somewhere nice…something fancy. We can do a little talking…”
“Well,” Fiona said, hesitating, “you know I left my car in the parking structure at the airport. We’d have to take two cars.”
“Fine. We’ll just meet at the restaurant. I’ll pick a place and leave it on your cell phone voice mail.”
“On second thought,” Fiona said with a subdued tone to her voice, “I’m really not feeling very well. A little under the weather. If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a rain check. I’ll just drive back home, get a bowl of soup, and hit the sack. I don’t feel well.”
“Sure. No problem. I’m sorry you don’t feel good. Please take care of yourself, darling. I love you.”
There was a slight pause at the other end. Fiona gave him a quick “I love you” and then said goodbye.
Will heard the intercom buzz. It was Hilda. Mike Michalany was finally on the line.
Will quickly asked Mike about his initial impressions of the forensics information on the bombing attack.
“Well, of course, the information is sketchy. But it gave me a good start,” he said. “First of all, there was a pretty clear picture from the documents of the detonation device they used. It was a wireless system from two laptops in two vehicles, with a connection to the detonation devices in the explosives in the Dome of the Rock and the al-Aqsa Mosque. Something interesting about the system, though…”
“Like what?”
“Very sophisticated and difficult to intercept. Very refined setup. Last time I checked, the Israeli intelligence folks have some extremely sensitive signal detection devices all over Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. They can monitor almost every wireless connection there is. They can trace a connection from the point of origin to the receptor. Obviously, if they see any connection leading to some secure facility, or some likely target for terrorist activity, they can follow that signal to the source immediately and charge in on terrorists before they push the button. Yet it doesn’t look like they knew about this one. Highly advanced tech stuff was used.”
“What does that tell you?”
“Well…the typical scenario. Maybe it was terrorists with a lot of experience with explosives and electronic communications. And some of the cell groups have that capacity. They really train on that stuff. But, as far as I can see, there’s nothing about the Knights of the Temple Mount having previously used explosives or having any engineering or electronics training.”
“What else have you come up with?” Will asked.
“Well, the nature of the explosive, of course. They used the same one at both targets on the Temple Mount. Semtex. Sort of second cousin to C-4. Again, not the kind of stuff used by amateurs or the fainthearted. This appeared, for all the world, to be a hard-core, highly engineered attack. You know whether any of these Knights of the Temple Mount had any scientific or technical background?”
“Not that I know of,” Will replied. “Of course, I’m still digging into that. But I think every one of them was an ideologue with a strong religious motivation. Whether or not they were also training as traditional terrorists, I really can’t tell you…”
“Okay, well, a couple of other thoughts,” Michalany continued. “And these are just random. Based on typical criminal investigation analysis.” “We all know that security around the al-Aqsa Mosque was pretty high, as it normally is. It’s a volatile place—probably the most sensitive place in the world in terms of the potential for violence or clashes between the Palestinians and the Israelis. Or for apocalyptic-type groups, like these Knights of the Temple Mount, to launch some kind of an attack. It all leads to one important question.”
“And what would that be?” Will asked.
“Just this—how did they get access to a totally Muslim-controlled area?”
“Well, one thing I’ve been thinking about,” Will responded. “It could have been an inside job. Someone who was a staffer with the Waqf, the Muslim trust that actually operates the Temple Mount platform. Though that seems to be unlikely. It raises the question, however, as to whether the Knights may have had special access to the area. But I’m not really sure how they could have that…”
“I’ve been thinking about that same thing,” Michalany replied. “I’m looking into the history of some of the attacks on the Temple Mount. Of course, they’ve been much smaller in nature. For instance, back in 1982, a fellow by the name of Yoel Lerner was convicted of conspiring to blow up the Dome of the Rock. He was caught before anything happened and put in jail for a couple of years. Also, in the same year, an Israeli soldier by the name of Alan Harry Goodman, a U.S. immigrant, went on a shooting spree on the Mount. He was able to kill one person and wound a couple others. But there wasn’t a massive loss of life. He was stopped cold before that. Which then leads me to wonder…”
“About what?”
“Well, the fact that there have been no successful large-scale attacks till now. Due, really, to two things. First of all, Israeli security. They’re able to intercept most of the crazies before they get too far. And then, of course, the Arabs scrutinize everyone who gets up there. So those are the two gatekeepers that have kept anything really terrible from happening in the past. Obviously, those two gatekeepers failed.”
“You have any theories on why that happened?” Will asked, now stopping his note-taking and listening intently to his consulting expert.
“Just a few thoughts.”
“Such as?”
“Well, they had to evade Israeli intelligence, the Jerusalem police department, and the IDF, as well as the Mossad. Then there’s the engineering of the bombing itself, as I said before—very sophisticated. They had to have money, power, technical information. Where did that come from? Then there’s something else.”
“Oh?”
“Yes—access to the Temple Mount, exactly as you said. Maybe the people who got into the area and planted the explosives were Arabs—maybe even
Muslims, or former Muslims, themselves. Just a thought.”
But it was a thought that made Will’s blood run a little cold.
“And of course,” Michalany continued, “your guy is an Arab.”
“Yeah,” Will acknowledged. “You and all the world know that. And worse is his being a former Muslim himself. A Shiite. The news media’s been having a field day with that.”
“I guess you got some things to ask your boy,” Michalany said, trying to be casual. “Like the extent of his travels in the Jerusalem area, prior to the day that the bombing took place.”
“I already know the answer to that,” Will said reluctantly. “Last year he traveled to Jerusalem and spent some time there.”
There was a pause on the line.
“And I’m sure you’re going to ask him,” Michalany added, “just what he did then…”
Michalany didn’t need to say any more.
Will wondered—whether his client had traveled to the Temple Mount. Whether he had attempted to get, or had actually been granted, access. Whether he had viewed the inside of the al-Aqsa Mosque or the Dome of the Rock.
Those kinds of scouting activities were typical with every terrorist organization planning an attack.
It was clear to Will that he would soon have to pose these questions to his client, eyeball to eyeball.
And that had to be sooner rather than later.
43
IF THIS HAD BEEN A FENCING MATCH, the opponents had yet to uncork the tips of their foils.
Warren Mullburn was seated with his chief of staff at a conference table in the offices of the Israeli Foreign Ministry in Jerusalem.
The Last Judgment Page 20