Saving Sophie: A Novel (16 page)

(Witness is silent)

(By Harold Fine)
“Your Honor, would you please instruct the witness to answer my question?”

(Judge Karr)
“Dr. al-Zahani, please read and translate the first three sentences as requested.”

(
Witness)
“My dearest Alina. I have your letter and I am pleased to learn that you and Sophie are doing so well. I have shown your letters to your father, but he will not read them and will not speak of you in our home.”

(
By Harold Fine)
“Go on, Doctor. Read the next sentence.”

“Maybe in time he will change his mind, but for now he says he has no daughter.”

“Did you disown your very own daughter?”

(Witness is silent)

“Did you disown your daughter, Alina?”

(Witness is silent)

“Mr. Warm-and-Loving, did you kick your daughter out of your life? Was she dead to you eight years before she died? Is that how warm and loving—”

(By Jerome Gibbs)
“Objection. Objection.”

(Judge Karr)
“Counsel, sit down. The objection is overruled.”

(
By Harold Fine)
“—you will be to Sophie, just as warm and loving? Doctor, are you asking this court to grant you custody so that you can disown Sophie six thousand miles away from her home if she crosses you?”

(Witness)
“You do not understand. Alina had turned from us. She had rejected us and her Islamic faith. In marrying this man, she had dishonored her mother and me. We raised her—gave her everything—she was a beautiful pianist, she was a brilliant psychologist, a lovely Muslim woman—who ran off with an American who was, who…”

“Was a Jew?”

“A Jew. An American. What does it matter, he was not of our community. Notwithstanding, I remained devoted to Alina, she was my precious one, but I could not act like nothing happened. When she came to Hebron last summer, when she was back in the house, I tried, we talked, but I knew she had become the wife … I was not mean to her. I was trying, but…”

“You were distant?”

“Perhaps.”

“You didn’t change your mind?”

“I did not.”

“You had no daughter.”

(Witness is silent)

“No further questions.”

*   *   *

C
ATHERINE SHUT THE TRANSCRIPT
binder. “Case over,” she said to herself.

T
WENTY
-S
IX

C
ATHERINE AND LIAM WERE
the last to arrive when they walked into J&F’s conference room at 10:00
A.M.
Walter Jenkins and three other people were already seated around the oval conference table, and they stood as Catherine and Liam entered.

Walter made the introductions. “I think you know Jeff Miller from the FBI. This is Harry Foster from Washington and Kayla Cummings, his associate.”

“Washington? What agency?” Liam said as he shook their hands.

“Well, more precisely, you might say we’re intelligence analysts,” Foster said. His handshake was firm. His gray hair was thinning, but neatly cut. He stood tall in a light gray suit with a dark blue tie.

“Langley?”

Foster shrugged and gave a nod. “Middle East desk, Mr. Taggart.”

“Liam. Just Liam.”

Walter gestured for everyone to sit. Liam pointed across the table to Kayla Cummings, who sat posture-perfect in a dark blue suit, lavender blouse, and tricolored scarf, neatly tucked at the neckline, her hands folded on the table before her. She was exquisite, with dark eyes and warm olive skin. Gold hoop earrings glistened against her black hair.

“And may I ask who Ms. Cummings works for?” Liam said.

“I am assigned to the assistant secretary of state for Near Eastern Affairs, Mr. Taggart. I advise the assistant secretary and the undersecretary on policy issues, specifically with regard to Iraq, Iran, Israel, and the territories administered by the Palestinian Authority.”

Liam tilted his head at Catherine. “The spooks are here.” Then, leaning forward on his elbows, he asked Foster, “What brings the CIA and the State Department to Chicago on a theft of corporate funds?”

“Well, the simple answer to that question is Kayla,” Foster said. “She believes there is a connection between the kidnapping of the Sommers child, the missing money, and certain activities she’s been following in the Middle East. Although purely theoretical at this stage, there’s enough substance to her theories to persuade me to come and talk to you.”

“I don’t understand,” Liam said. “The theft of the escrow funds is a local issue. How are the Middle East desk and the Department for Near Eastern Affairs involved?”

“We’re here because your corporate embezzlement in Chicago may be earmarked to fund the activities of a group I’ve been monitoring,” Kayla said.

Foster angled his head in Kayla’s direction. “Kayla’s been trying to build a book on a group of Palestinians and has convinced me, maybe prematurely, that there’s a reason for all of us to get together.” He slid a group of papers across the table to Liam. “But before we go any further, we have to do the formalities. What we discuss here today must be held in the strictest confidence as a matter of national security. Our entire discussion, and any information that flows from our discussion, is classified and must remain confidential. Do we have an understanding in that regard?”

Catherine and Liam looked at each other and then nodded their agreement. Foster pointed to the confidentiality agreements. Catherine and Liam each signed them and slid them back across the table.

“Let’s begin with Arif al-Zahani, a prominent doctor in the West Bank city of Hebron,” Foster said. “His family has been well-known to us and our British cousins for more than ninety years. Indeed, Arif’s grandfather Ibrahim al-Zahani was an adjutant to Amin al-Husseini, the mufti of Jerusalem, one of the most belligerent and dangerous men the area has ever produced, a man responsible for countless uprisings and murders. During their tenure, Ibrahim and Amin caused the deaths of dozens of British soldiers and countless civilians, both Jews and Arabs. Arif’s father, Hamid al-Zahani, was an officer in the Jordanian army in the 1948 and 1967 wars and was the commandant of the Hebron garrison for twenty years.”

“Arif operates at a much lower altitude,” added Kayla, “though I believe he’s no less sinister. He’s a learned man. A medical doctor and a scientist. He has the respect of his community and others in his profession, even in Jerusalem, where he has lectured on his specialty. He has influence among his people. And he’s very wealthy.”

“How did he obtain his wealth?” Liam asked.

“He didn’t get it practicing medicine,” she said. “Even now, he works in a very poor community hospital. Those of us who have been following him believe he’s been funded by Hamas out of Gaza, though it may be one of the other extremist groups. There are several operating in Hebron.”

“Do you have any proof that he’s involved in the theft of the escrow funds or that he’s planning to use that money?”

“Not yet.”

“You said he has influence among his people. What does that mean? Who are his people?” Liam said.

“Let me emphasize this,” Foster said. “We have no solid evidence that he’s engaged in any terrorist movements. That’s why the Agency has thus far refused to devote any assets to him.” He shrugged. “But then, Kayla—”

Kayla broke in. “He’s far too clever to lose his professional persona, but I assure you he’s waist deep in terrorism. First of all, he’s a lineal descendant of mass murderers. It’s in his DNA. His father and his grandfather before him were sworn enemies of peace in the region. For close to fifty years, they were at the core of violent insurrection. Secondly, Arif meets regularly with what I believe is an extremist cell in Hebron. Until recently, some of these men were in Gaza. Others are outspoken Palestinian hard-liners. Their activity level indicates that they are planning something. Of that, I’m certain.”

“And now al-Zahani has Sophie Sommers,” Liam said.

“Correct,” Kayla said.

“And we’re trying to find her father.”

Foster nodded. “Correct again.”

“Do you believe that John Sommers is going to use eighty-eight million dollars to buy his daughter back?” Catherine asked.

Kayla shrugged and spread her hands. “That’s the jackpot question, isn’t it? Is it possible? Sure. If that’s what it takes to get his daughter back, why not?”

Walter slapped the table. “Never saw it coming. I knew his daughter was reported missing after the grandparents failed to return her. I knew he was using diplomatic channels to try to get her back, but I never suspected he would steal a client’s money to pay a ransom. If I thought it was a possibility…”

Foster shook his head. “It isn’t something you could have anticipated.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the judge. We’re being sued for malpractice because we failed to supervise our attorneys and allowed one of them to steal eighty-eight million dollars from a client. All based on the principle of foreseeability.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Foster said. “We’ve uncovered no evidence of a ransom demand. And we don’t know for sure that there’s a plan to transfer eighty-eight million, or any sum at all, to Palestinian hard-liners. Again, those are merely working hypotheses. But if there is such a plan in the works, it isn’t something we can permit.”

“Didn’t Sommers contact the State Department when Sophie was taken?” Catherine said.

“Yes, he did.” Foster gestured for Kayla to answer.

“At the time, the State Department did everything it could. Not just through our agency but also involving the Department of Homeland Security. DHS immediately put out an alert for all airlines serving the Middle East referencing a passport bearing Sophie’s name or photographic likeness. A Yellow Notice was issued by Interpol in Paris, but once again, that’s only distributed to countries that are Hague Convention signatories. None of the Middle Eastern countries, with the exception of Israel, are signatories.”

“I seem to remember, somewhere in the back of my mind,” Catherine said, “that there’s a parental abduction statute that applies to grandparents as well. Isn’t it enforceable internationally?”

“There is a statute and it does apply to grandparents,” Kayla said. “It’s called the International Parental Kidnapping Act, IPKA. It’s a federal crime and punishable in the United States. Outside our borders, we have to depend on treaties and to a great extent on our treaty partners. Some countries will send the children back because they recognize the Hague Convention on International Child Abduction, but there are many that will not. There’s a long list of countries that will not comply with the Hague Convention. And Sophie is not even in a recognized country. The West Bank, the Palestinian Territories, the disputed land, whatever you call it, is not a country. It’s not a legitimate sovereignty.”

“I suppose it’s a stupid question, but what about our embassy? Couldn’t it do anything about getting Sophie returned?” Catherine said.

Kayla shook her head. “Our embassy is in Tel Aviv. Hebron, at least the part where al-Zahani lives, is administered by the Palestinian Authority. The US has no diplomatic relations with the PA. In fact, a couple years ago we sent a diplomatic delegation to the West Bank and it was attacked by Palestinian protesters. So, it’s not a US embassy matter. Since the PA is not a Hague signatory and is noncompliant with the Hague Convention, Sommers would have to go through the Hebron courts. In our experience, non-Muslim parents stand very little chance of succeeding in a child-custody dispute in the Islamic courts of the Middle East.”

“Did Sophie’s passport turn up?” Liam asked.

“That’s the strange thing,” Foster answered. “At the time, Sommers told us that Sophie didn’t have a passport. He never applied for one. And he’s right. There are no records of a passport issued to Sophie Sommers.”

“So how did she travel internationally?”

“It’s a mystery.”

Liam folded his arms and rocked back in his chair. “But you’re not here because of Sophie’s abduction.”

“Well, indirectly, Mr. Taggart,” Kayla said. “We’re concerned about terrorists getting their hands on eighty-eight million dollars. I’ve noticed increased activity in Dr. al-Zahani’s group. It’s like a little beehive. Clandestine meetings in bakeries and empty apartments. They never use cell phones. No e-mails. The IDF monitors them, but at a distance.”

“IDF?” Walter said.

“Israel Defense Forces. Israeli soldiers. They report suspicious activities to Shin Bet, the Israeli Internal Security Agency, and to the Mossad.”

“What is the beehive planning?”

“I don’t know,” Kayla said. “But you can bet al-Zahani knows.”

“Like I said before,” added Foster, “this is Kayla’s baby. We haven’t yet developed any clear evidence that al-Zahani is engaged in any terrorist activity. Nothing we can move on. The Agency won’t staff this operation unless Kayla comes up with something more concrete. But Kayla is so damn passionate and so obsessed with this guy that … well, that’s good enough for me, at least for now. She’s been right in the past. So, even if she can’t get the Agency’s formal attention, she’s got mine. Enough to let her investigate it further.”

“Let me see if I understand our respective positions,” Catherine said. “While our purpose is to locate Sommers, recover the money, and protect the law firm from bankruptcy, your agenda is to make sure Sommers doesn’t turn the money over to terrorists.”

“Precisely,” Kayla said.

“Where is the money?” Liam asked.

Foster shook his head. “Panama? We don’t know any more than you do.”

“And Sommers?”

“No idea.”

“The CIA and all its agents can’t find a transactional lawyer and some stolen money?” Walter said.

“You watch too many movies.”

“So tell me, Harry,” said Catherine, “why are we all meeting here today?”

“Well, partly it’s about your Mr. Taggart. As I’m sure you know, Liam’s worked for us before.” Foster nodded at Liam.

Liam shrugged. “A long time ago.”

“We’d like to work together again,” Foster said. “You have the perfect cover. You’re a private investigator hired to find a little girl. In that role, you’ll be asking a lot of questions. You’ll have access to people, become privy to important information, and we’d like to be included.”