The Witness (22 page)

A large yacht slid through the water about a hundred meters away. Music and laughter echoed across the open expanse, then slowly faded, leaving just the gentle rock of the boat’s wake.

“Who are you?” Dalia asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“First, Dalia, let me say—”

“Stop. Just stop it. Before we can have a conversation, I need to know who I’m speaking with.” Her voice was heavy with sorrow but still carried an edge of anger.

“My name is Marwan Accad. I own a private security company along with my brother, Ramy. Right now I am wanted by the police for crimes I did not commit—including the murder of my best friend.”

Marwan let those words hang in the air, waiting for Dalia to absorb the information.

He heard her expel a breath, then say, “Is that who those men were back there? Were those policemen?”

“No, I don’t know who they are, but I believe they were hired by the people who are trying to frame me for the murder. Those were bad guys.”

“And you—the one who killed them both—you’re supposed to be the good guy?” Dalia asked, bitterness in her voice.

“I used to think so,” Marwan said softly. “Now, I don’t know.”

Again, silence filled the boat. Marwan put his head in his hands.

Suddenly Dalia’s voice burst forth. “How am I supposed to deal with this? Am I supposed to say, ‘Okay, Tariq or Marwan or whatever your name is today, it’s fine that instead of working as a mild-mannered computer consultant, you kill people for a living’? Is that it? Oh yeah, ‘And, my dear fiancé, if you happen to shoot someone in the head who’s holding me hostage, that’s okay. I’ll just wash the blood and bits of him out of my hair and fix you a nice dinner.’” Her voice broke with the last of her words.

“Dalia, I’m so sorry. You should never have been in that situation. I went on autopilot trying to keep you safe and get us out of there. I totally forgot that . . . I should have . . . I’m just so sorry.”

She was now sitting cross-legged on the bench. Her hands were moving, but Marwan wasn’t sure what she was doing. Then it hit him—she was fidgeting with the ring, pulling it off, putting it on, spinning it around her finger. He watched her, mesmerized. His fate was in where that ring ended up. Would it be on her finger or at the bottom of the gulf? He felt like he was watching a roulette table back in Monte Carlo:
Round and round it goes; where it stops, nobody knows.

The ring ended up in her right hand. Then, with a shake of her head, she slipped it back onto her finger. “I need to know everything! No more lies!”

“No more lies,” Marwan repeated.

“I want to know from the time you were born up until today. If I’m going to marry you—which is a huge question mark right now—I need to know who it is I’m marrying. Nothing hidden.”

“You’ll know it all. I swear to you.”

Marwan could see her shoulders begin to shake. He wanted to comfort her but knew he couldn’t touch her until she invited him.

“Why didn’t you just leave me? You know, all along I kept waiting for you to disappear on me. Now I almost wish you had.”

Risking it, he touched her knee. “I couldn’t leave you, Dalia. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you.”

The shaking increased until finally she reached out her arms. Marwan leaped at the opening and held her tight.

“No more lies,” he said into her neck. “I promise you, no more lies.”

After a while, her sobbing slowed, then stopped. Leaning away from him, she said, “I’m ready to hear now.”

“And I’m ready to tell.”

Marwan helped Dalia into the front of the boat, then sat in the other seat, started the boat, and throttled her up.

Once they were moving again, Marwan began talking. He started with his childhood, his love for his parents, the devastation after their deaths, his responsibility for Ramy, his military service, his private sector work, and Accad & Associates.

He had held the truth of who he was from her all this time, it felt great to get it out—to at last let Dalia see who he truly was.

But he paused.
Can I really tell her everything about Ramsey? What about what happened to Kadeen? What will she think of me when she hears that? And all the dead bodies that have been left in my wake? Is it even possible she’ll still love me when she hears what kind of man I really am?

Off in the distance, he saw city lights on the shore. By his calculations, that was Dahab, the next step in their journey. He slowed the boat, then killed the engine. It was still the middle of the night. He wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done until morning.

No more lies. You promised her, no more lies.

Taking Dalia again by the hand, he led her back to the bench seat. He sat down and she leaned against him. The salt spray had kept him awake, but now that the boat had stopped, he was very tired.

“I have more to tell you, but honestly, I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me when I do.”

In response, Dalia took his hand and wrapped it around her.

“Okay,” Marwan said, “it started in Monte Carlo. . . .”

By the time he was done, he was exhausted from trying to keep his emotions in check. He waited, wondering how she would respond.

After what seemed like an eternity, she raised his hand to her mouth, gently kissed it, then turned deeper into his chest and fell asleep.

Marwan’s heart jumped into his throat.
Thank you, Dalia. And if there’s a God out there, thank you, too.

He leaned his head back with a smile but didn’t close his eyes. He knew that he needed to stay awake and keep watch. He lasted another five minutes before he, too, became lost to the world.

49

Another city, another hotel, another night of pacing. It didn’t take much to make Inspector Lemieux angry. However, it did take some effort to make him this angry.

I can’t believe that idiot has put me on hold! Me! And without asking permission or even giving an apology or an “excuse me.” I’m going to have to remind him who works for whom.

He walked back across the room, carefully avoiding the ceramic pieces of the lamp he had just shattered on the wall. He hated being in Cairo—the smells, the noise, the crowds. But the worst was the driving. How they fit eight lanes of traffic on a four-lane road, he’d never know. Then to top it off, they drove at insane rates of speed, weaving in and out of their makeshift tracks. He finally had to threaten his driver, a captain with the Cairo police, with a complaint to the police chief to get him to slow down.

I have surrounded myself with fools and incompetents! The only one with half a brain is Goddard, and he’s the only one I
want
to remain clueless.

The line clicked over. “Inspector Lemieux?”

“Edgard, if you ever put me on hold again, I will make sure that you don’t survive the year. Remember, I am the one who chooses the assignments. I am the one who has kept you safe in your comfortable office instead of in the field. I am the one! Do you understand me?”

“But, sir, I—”

“Do you understand me?” Lemieux roared.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, what have you learned?”

“The two killed in Sharm el-Sheikh were definitely our men—confirmed by our other teams there.”

“Why didn’t they wait?” Lemieux yelled, grabbing another lamp, then putting it down. “The other teams were within—what—an hour or two? If they had waited as they had been ordered, Accad would be dead. Did you tell them to wait?”

“Yes, sir, just like you told me. But if you remember, the team was LeBlanc and DuCharme. They’ve always been good at what they did, but they had a history of doing their own thing. They must have thought they could take Accad down themselves.”

Lemieux squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. “Make it clear to everyone involved that no more independent actions will be tolerated. Let them know that if they act on their own, if Accad doesn’t kill them, I will!”

“Yes, sir.”

“What more can you tell me?”

“Apparently he is not alone anymore.”

“Oh, great,” Lemieux said, sitting on the bed. “Do we know who he is?”

“It’s not a he; it’s a she.”

Lemieux jumped to his feet. “A woman? Is she one of their operatives?”

“Could be. When we first started looking for Accad, we had checked on any old girlfriends. There’s nothing there.”

“Interesting.” If she was one of the Accad & Associates team, she could mean trouble for them. But if she was someone Accad had picked up along the way, she could mean a major weakness for him.

“Find out who she is. Fast!”

“Yes, sir. Also, we’ve discovered that he made his escape from Sharm el-Sheikh by boat.”

“Boat? Which direction?”

“We don’t know, sir. He was lost in the gulf traffic.”

“What options would he have?”

“There are all sorts of places they could be going down the Red Sea—El Gouna, Soma Bay, Marsa Alam, all the resort areas along Egypt’s coast. If they went up the Gulf of Aqaba, they would see Dahab, Taba, then up to Eilat and Aqaba. There’s also Saudi Arabia, but I don’t think that’s a viable option.”

Lemieux paced silently.
Where are you running to? Where would I go if I were you? Your greatest asset is your ability to blend in. The farther south you go into Africa, the more you’ll stand out. But if you go north, you’ve got your home of Lebanon and, ultimately, Europe. That’s got to be it. I’m onto you, Accad. You can run, but you cannot hide forever.

“Edgard, keep an eye on the Red Sea coast, but I believe he’s going north up the gulf. Watch the Egyptian coasts and Aqaba, Jordan.”

“What about Eilat?”

Lemieux shook his head. “He’d be a fool to try. And we’d be fools to try anything if he did make it in. Is there anything else I need to know?”

“No, sir.”

Lemieux hung up without another word.

Immediately the phone rang again.

“What now?” he answered.

“Inspector Lemieux?”

Goddard,
Lemieux thought, wishing he had checked his caller ID before answering so that he could have let it go to voice mail.

“What is it, Goddard?”

“Have you heard of the activity in Sharm el-Sheikh? One man stabbed and another—”

“Of course I’ve heard of it! What does that have to do with us?”

“Well, it sounds very much like our man Accad, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think it does.”

“What? How can you say that? Two, at least thus far, anonymous corpses. Both killed in a fairly professional way.”

“And what about the woman?”

“The . . . uh . . . there was a woman?”

“Goddard, you fool! Get all the information before you start jumping to conclusions!” He needed to throw Goddard off this trail, and quickly. “Those two men in Sharm el-Sheikh were killed by a man and a woman—the man killed one in the street with a knife, and the woman shot the other in a shop. Unless you think Accad has suddenly become half of a new Bonnie and Clyde, I suggest you get yourself to Beirut and Ramy Accad, and have your men follow the actual lead of the rental car south from Cairo! Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Lemieux hung up. He stood breathing deeply to calm himself. At the desk, he called the hotel manager to complain about the cheap lamps that shatter when they are accidentally knocked off a table. After accepting the manager’s apologies and promises of a cleanup and a replacement, he sat, poured himself a brandy, and began plotting how to bring Goddard down if he started getting too close.

50

A pounding on the boat startled Marwan.

“Hey, wake up! Hey, mister!”

“What? Who . . . ?” The words caught in Marwan’s throat.

Next to him, he heard Dalia softly say, “Wow.” Marwan soon followed suit.

It looked like the sea around them was alive with giant, colorful butterflies skimming across the waves. Once he was fully awake, he saw that the water surrounding them was filled with windsurfers riding boards of all colors and sizes.

The young man slapping the boat was wearing a blue and black wet suit and had his rig up against the starboard side of the ski boat. “Hey, mister, you’re not allowed to have a boat in this lagoon.”

Marwan looked beyond him and saw two other guys straddling their boards just a few meters off, glaring at him.

“Sorry, man, we were just out here partying last night, and I guess we got a little too wasted.”

The guy laughed. “I don’t know if there’s such a thing as ‘too wasted,’ but I know what you mean. Anyway, only boarders out here riding the dawn patrol are allowed. You best clear out before the heat comes and starts asking you questions.”

“Good call. Sorry about that.”

With a shake of his head, the guy lifted his rig and skimmed off into the lagoon.

Marwan moved to the front seat and fired up the boat. He only put the throttle at a quarter so he could ease his way among all the sails. When he was clear, he pointed the boat toward shore.

“You never told me what you thought about what I said last night,” he said once they were under way.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Dalia replied, taking the other front seat. Even with her hair sticking every which way after spending the night drifting at sea, she still looked stunningly beautiful. “It’s going to take me a while to digest everything. I can tell you that I understand why you lied. I can’t say that I like it, but I do understand. I also know that despite what you think about yourself, I still feel that you are a good man, Marwan Accad—you know, it’s going to take me a bit of time to get used to that name.”

“Well, get ready for another,” he said. “Here, take the wheel.”

“What? What do you mean another?” Dalia asked as she traded seats.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet. It was a bit larger than the typical bifold, and Dalia had made fun of it more than once.

From his other pocket, he produced his pocketknife. Carefully, he cut the stitches that were holding the leather panels together. When one side was separated, he reached in and pulled out a British passport that was creased in the middle and wrapped in plastic. Then he slid a Visa credit card out from one side of the opening and an American Express from the other.