FORTY FOUR
They’d come in hand in hand, their clothing still dripping, Elizabeth carrying her shoes and her purse, both of them smelling of chlorine. Kessler apologized for holding them up. Harry told Kessler what he’d said to the others. Hester Lazarus was coming, no stranger to Kessler. Elizabeth didn’t seem to be listening.
“May I hope,” Harry asked him, “that Roy Orbison stayed dry?”
Kessler handed him the sleeve. “He’s not a swimmer.”
“Go change,” Harry told them. “There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen. If you have no objection, we’ll get started.”
Kessler said, “You needn’t wait. But if you do find a moment, you might want to look in on Charles Haskell.”
Harry saw, in Kessler’s eyes, what hadn’t been spoken. He saw that Elizabeth was still somewhere else. He would look in on Haskell when he found a spare moment. He felt sure that the need was not urgent.
Sadik touched a pencil to the screen of the laptop. He said, “A number of these have been starred. What are they?”
Harry leaned over his shoulder to look. “They’re the ones Rasha says are legitimate charities. She put question marks where she wasn’t certain.”
“Well, she’s mostly correct and I’ve noted others. Of the more than twelve hundred accounts on this list, roughly two hundred are legitimate.”
Clew asked him, “What sort of charities?”
“Faith-based, Islamic, but not narrowly so. The Red Crescent, for example, the Islamic Red Cross. Some distribute the Koran in foreign language translations, but always accompanied by practical texts on subjects such as how to dig wells. The Koran is always part of a literacy program. No use sending it if they couldn’t read it. Others fund the construction of local mosques where none existed before.” He asked Clew, “Have you ever been in a mosque? I don’t mean a tourist mosque. A real one.”
Clew said, “I’m not aware of the distinction.”
“A local mosque is important. It’s not just good for preaching. Like most churches, it’s also a community center and perhaps the only one for many miles. It’s where food is distributed to those in need. It’s where children get their vaccinations. It’s where fishing and farming techniques are taught. It’s where people meet their neighbors and become better neighbors. Very few are hotbeds for the radicals.”
Clew sniffed. “One learns something every day.”
Sadik curled his lip. “Are we being snide? A lot of nonsense is preached from your pulpits as well. Your faithful don’t run home to get their guns.”
“As a rule.”
“Muslims are people. They just want good lives. Religion is important, but I’ll tell you this. Give young Muslims a choice between taking up jihad and finding a good job and a decent apartment, they’ll take the job and the apartment every time.”
“Doc…”
“No job, no apartment, means you can’t find a wife. No wife means no children. You are nothing without family. You want a hotbed? No hope? There’s your hotbed.”
“Doc, I get it,” said Clew. “Let’s move on.”
Sadik grumbled a bit, but he got back to work. He touched his pencil to some of the entries. “An encouraging number have been set up for women, mostly funded by women although not entirely. These stress literacy and pre-natal care for the most part, but also practical skills for the workplace and other vocational training. Many provide limited medical services. Also nurseries, daycare centers, for women with jobs and even meals on wheels for the shut-ins.”
“I’m impressed.”
“You should be. Some good work is done there.”
Clew asked him, “And these charities are all Saudi?”
“Yes, but not all are Sunni. And certainly not Wahhabi. It looks like… let me see… roughly one in five are Shiite and are based in the Saudi Eastern Province. The Shiites who live there call it the Hasa. They’re a Saudi minority and are treated as such. They’re obliged to take care of their own.”
Clew nodded. Poorly treated. And yet that’s where the oil is. A day of reckoning would not surprise him.
“You said about two hundred. What’s their total in dollars?”
“Roughly two and half billion,” said Sadik.
Harry asked, “It’s just sitting there unspent?”
“They don’t simply shovel it out,” Sadik told him. “There’s a lot of planning involved.”
“On the presumption that they all have been skimmed, what adjustment would you make to that figure?”
Sadik shrugged. “I couldn’t guess.”
“Go ahead,” Harry told him. “Take a shot.”
Another shrug. “A billion? This comes out of thin air.”
“But a nice round number. We’ll go with that. We’ll prorate it over the two hundred.”
Sadik wasn’t sure that he understood. “It comes from where?”
“I just told you. From the skimmers. When we’re finished reviewing the names on this list, you can start making the transfers. Hester Lazarus will help you. She’s due here shortly. She’ll be making a few of her own.”
Sadik said, “You haven’t told us her role in this.”
“Let’s just say that she’s very good at paperwork.”
Sadik rubbed his forehead. “I must not be too bright. Say I’ve done as you suggest. Say I start moving money. How do these two hundred charities get at it?”
“Good question. Here’s another. How do they keep it? What stops it from being re-skimmed?”
“Banking it elsewhere,” said Sadik.
“Someplace neutral,” said Harry. “My vote would be Credit Suisse in Geneva where I have friends on the board. As to how they’d get at it, they’d do so through you. You would control it. You’d approve all disbursals. You can surrender control on a case by case basis when you’re assured that they’ll be properly administered.”
“Um …how will I say that I came by this money?”
“You didn’t come by it. You rescued it for them. Not only that, you increased it substantially. I would think they be pleased to see that.”
“Harry …I’ll be asked how I did this.”
“Yeah, I know, but hold that thought. We’ll get to it later. First things first. Will you take this on?”
“Manage three and a half billion? Some two hundred accounts? Take it on when? My spare time? On my lunch break?”
“Well, someone has to do it. Otherwise the money sits. No new community centers.”
“I’d need help,” said Sadik. “An accounting staff certainly.”
“Do you have one in mind?”
“Hamas has one. It’s very efficient. And Hamas, by the way…”
“Doesn’t steal. So you’ve said. I’ll need to think about that. It would give them instant legitimacy.”
“Hey.” Sadik waved. “Do you see me standing here? Try to think of me as legitimate. Besides, we’ve been elected. Or do you not read the papers?”
“I said I’ll consider it. What’s next?”
“All the rest of the money,” said Sadik. “This still leaves six and a half billion more spread over a thousand accounts.”
“Flight money,” said Harry, “for a thousand opportunists. They might have to re-think their retirement plans. Do you have any thoughts on what to do with it?”
“For a start, pay for some of the damage that’s been done.”
“You mean Mangiamo? Rebuild it?”
“And a car for Elizabeth. I know. I’m thinking small. But such things should not be overlooked.”
“Understood. What else are you thinking?”
“Well, I owe four million to the government of Iran. No, wait a minute. That’s not Iran’s money. They made the Darvi girls’ father cough it up. But I’ll need more than that to fund my own work. My old well will probably run dry.”
“The Saudis?” asked Harry. “You think they’ll cut you off?”
“Don’t say Saudis in general. There are many fine Saudis. But once they find
out I’ve taken over these charities, I expect to be persona-non-grata with some. I’d prefer not to have to go begging.”
“Suits me,” Harry told him. “Take whatever you need.”
“You trust me so much?”
“I might check in now and then.”
“I see,” said Sadik. He was drumming his pencil. “Would you object if I used some for political purposes?”
“You’re thinking of running for office yourself?”
“Not me. Worthy candidates. I do what I do.”
“These worthy candidates… they’d all be Hamas?”
“I’m thinking woman candidates. My daughter, for one. Good mind, good heart. She’ll make a difference.”
“I’ve no doubt of that. It’s your call.”
“As for the others, no militants. That I will promise. The need now is for those who can administer and build. The militants will one day be irrelevant.”
“If you say so.”
“Harry, like the Saudis, we have many good men. We have more than our share of good women. Beyond that, we have earned the support of the people through our own social programs that no one else gives them. You saw the elections. We got seventy percent. We exist for that seventy percent.”
Clew said, “My government might take issue with that.”
“Which part? That we exist for so many? You can give your government a message from me. Tell them, talk to me when they have a government, regardless of party, that exists for more than the five percent who write the biggest checks to their campaign funds. Tell them to kindly explain to me how this can be called democratic.”
Clew raised his hands. “You tell them,” he said. “But I’d wait until you’ve made it work.”
Harry took another look at the list. He ran his finger down among the middle-range thieves. He asked, “Which of these would you say is most able to get Rasha’s mother out of the country?”
“And safely to Switzerland?”
“Say by this time next week.”
Sadik studied the names. He touched his pencil to one. “This one is that smuggler I told you about. He has his own fleet of planes. Netanya’s men caught him. I got him released. He should be willing to do me a favor.”
“Gratitude has a very short shelf life, my friend.”
“This one, I assure you, will be more than grateful if we let him keep some of his money.”
“You’ll handle it?” asked Harry.
“As soon as we’re done here. What’s next?”
“You know the Hasheem has put a price on Elizabeth. Is it bankrolled by any of the names on this list?”
“I don’t know,” said Sadik, “but I can find out.”
“When you do, you might try to get it rescinded. If he, or they, should fail to see it your way, put a bounty of five million on each of them.”
“Happily,” said Sadik. “Count it done.”
“And another on that sheik who runs the Hasheem. He should learn how it feels to be hunted.”
“I’ll call it Rasha’s dowry. Just kidding. I won’t. But what about Haskell’s two associates while we’re at it? Why not put a bounty on them?”
“We’ll get to them. They’ll keep. Let’s move on.” He said, “The Nasreens have an earlier version of the disk. It’s been scrambled, but it still has all of these names. I’m sure they’ll give it up without compensation, but we still ought to make a contribution.”
“Actually, that was Niki’s suggestion. She’s contrite about more things than you know. One of them is for threatening to expose the Nasreens when they didn’t want to take her out of Iran. She says she didn’t mean it. She says she would not have. Even so, she would like to make amends.”
“Then she should do it face to face, not by getting them some money.”
“She knows that. I told her that my wife would arrange it. My daughter, I’m sure, would accompany her. As I’ve told you…”
“They’re Nasreens. Yes, I heard you.”
Sadik paused. He said, “On that subject - compensation - what about the four girls? Shouldn’t we do something for them?”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know. An annuity? A college fund, maybe.”
Harry shook his head. “I think you want to be able to say that none of them took a cent. We’ll take care of them. They’re not going to be hurting. As for Aisha, I’m told that she’s pretty well fixed. Her parents left her a nice fortune in trust. She gets it when she comes of age.”
Sadik’s eyes widened. “Of age? What age would that be? Might it be when she reaches full womanhood?”
Harry hooded his eyes. “Screw the prophecy, doctor. It’s whenever her parents’ last will says she gets it. I would guess twenty-one, but I don’t know that.”
“This prophecy would seem to have some growth potential left. But as you wish, we won’t belabor it. What else?”
Harry touched his finger to the top of the list. “Highlight those first three Saudi names.”
“The three largest accounts?”
“Yes, do you know those names?”
Sadik looked. “Yes, of course. The first and the third are in the Saudi Oil Ministry. Not royals, but they’re very high up.”
“So they’d know Haskell?”
“No question about it. If he’s doing business with Saudi oil, he would have to have paid them both off.”
Harry asked him, “And the second? Who is he?”
“A mean one,” said Sadik. “He’s First Deputy Minister, Saudi Security. His office cracks down on all critics of the system.”
“Is that job so rewarding? That’s quite a nice nest egg.”
“Persistent critics are labeled apostates. That can be a death sentence, so most flee the country. He confiscates their property and sells it at auction, often very cheaply to his own friends and relatives. Most of the proceeds do go to the treasury, but he keeps a nice commission for himself.”
“A sweet deal,” said Harry.
“For all but the critics.”
“Okay. Don’t touch those when you start redistributing. Leave those balances as they are, down to the penny.”
Sadik raised an eyebrow. “That’s almost a billion.”
“I know.”
“You’re going to keep it?”
Harry Whistler almost smiled. “I have something else in mind. I’ll tell you after Hester gets here.”
FORTY FIVE
Clew took another call from Tatiana at State. She asked if he’s been watching TV. She said the blast is on CNN and Fox News. She said, “No one’s calling it a bombing so far. Just a mysterious explosion. Four dead, but no identities released. What makes it especially mysterious, however, is that a senior State official was there.”
“Naming me?”
“No, not so far, but they’ve probably heard. The White House sure as hell has.”
“You know that?”
“Not just the White House. Homeland Security… the intelligence services. Haven’t you been checking your voice mail?”
“Been busy. I’ll do that. I’ll get back to you, Tatiana.”
Clew’s cell phone was a Blackberry Pearl. It had a feature called SpinVox that converts voice to text. The idea was to be able to read messages privately without being seen with a phone to one’s ear or to risk having calls overheard.
Clew thumbed a button. The screen displayed a list of the incoming calls that his phone had recorded. He scanned through several, reading only the text. He got to the one from the White House.
He said to Harry Whistler, “All of these just this evening. Every agency you can name. This last one’s from the White House, from the Deputy Chief of Staff. His name is Gerald Stickles. Do you know him?”
“Only of him.”
“Then you know he’s a pompous pain in the ass.” Clew switched it back to voice mail and turned up the volume. He held the phone so that its speaker faced Harry. The voice that came through had the no-nonsense tone of a man accustomed to defere
nce. Stickles felt no need to identify himself. Annoying. The arrogance of power.
“Was this a hit on Harry Whistler? Advise at once. If so, how does he intend to respond? How are Haskell, Bentley and Leeds involved? How is the Bohemian Club involved and where is Howard Leland at this time? Explain the involvement of Sadik of Hamas and Yitzhak Netanya’s Mossad. Ditto this prophecy of Aisha’s second coming. Ditto a considerable sum of money that the Saudi’s seem to have misplaced. Report to me personally, soonest.”
Harry sat tugging at the end of his beard. He asked, “How does Stickles know all this already? I gather that his source isn’t Leland.”
“No, Howard’s lying low until I get back. He’s not answering his phone or the doorbell. Stickles had to have pried this out of someone at State. He had to have been told that I pulled those four dossiers before I met your plane at Reagan. He’d know I took State’s copy of the Bahrain Tribune. He’d know of my interest in the prophecy.”
“His source at State also knew about the money?”
“No. I don’t know how he heard about that. But Stickles said ‘considerable.’ He didn’t say ten billion. If he knew, I think he would have said ten billion.”
Either way, thought Harry, the word seemed to be out. Sadik had said that the Iranians, especially, were gloating. They’d heard that someone claiming to be Aisha’s handmaiden had apparently raided Saudi Charities.
Clew said, “He might not know that Sadik is here. All he’d know is that I pulled his file.”
“Could Haskell have someone at State on his payroll?”
“I don’t like to think so, but he might.”
“Well, I think he’d be remiss if he didn’t. Either way, I don’t want to get back to Reagan and find that my plane has been quarantined. Answer him, Roger. Tell him you’re on top of it. Say you’ll be in his office first thing in the morning to give him your report in detail.”
“What am I to tell him?”
“Nothing, Roger, because you won’t be there. And the rest of us should be airborne by then.”
“If I don’t give them some story, they’ll come up with their own. Stickles needs to look as if he’s handling this thing.”
“They’ll come up with their own no matter what we tell them, Roger. The simple truth is never simple to those people.”
The Aisha Prophecy Page 43