The Witness (28 page)

62

Marwan shook his head. “Pastor Nour, you need to understand that it could be more than just a little bit of trouble. One of my closest friends took me in, and now Kadeen is dead because he helped me.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Naheem said. “But understand, that was back when you were fighting this battle alone. You’re not alone anymore.”

Marwan was having a hard time grasping this all. This man’s attitude was totally foreign to any experience he’d had in the past. “But why . . . ? What makes you think I’m worth risking your life for? I mean, come on, you don’t even know me. How do you know that I didn’t do all the things that the police are accusing me of? How do you know that I won’t be the one to harm you and your family?”

Naheem laughed. “Listen, my daughter isn’t always a great judge of character, but she’s not that bad. Besides, I always have this.” He pulled a SIG Sauer P226 from the small of his back and placed it on the desk.

Once the shock at seeing the weapon wore off, Marwan couldn’t help but join in the older man’s laughter. “Dalia said you were ex-military. I should have expected you’d have a weapon or two lying around here.”

“Unfortunately, there’s just the one. But she’s a beauty, eh?”

“That she is,” Marwan said appreciatively. “And I suppose you setting it on the desk between us is designed to show that you trust me not to harm you.”

Naheem gave a sideways nod of his head.

“Well, thank you, sir. I do appreciate the confidence. Although, I do have to admit that the message loses a bit of its power when it’s made with an unloaded gun.”

Naheem looked at Marwan with surprise on his face. Then his whole body started shaking, his face broke into a huge smile, and like lava from an exploding volcano, his laughter burst forth and filled the entire apartment. Soon they both were in hysterics.

Dalia, who looked like she’d been woken up by the sound, burst through the open door. Her jaw dropped open as she saw her father and her fiancé doubled over, laughing, with a gun sitting on a desk between them.

Finally starting to calm down, Naheem managed to say, “Go, please, Dalia. Everything is okay. And close the door behind you.”

Dalia looked at Marwan for guidance, and he nodded his agreement. Visibly frustrated at being left out, she turned and closed the door hard behind her, which started the two men laughing all over again.

When he could, Naheem asked, “How did you know, O wise one?”

“It’s the sound. To the trained ear, a loaded SIG sounds very different from an empty one.”

Naheem nodded appreciatively. “Then I suppose I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

“Please—you owe me neither. I would have done the same thing.”

“But I feel I must explain. What happens to me—” he shrugged—“do to me what you will. However, when it comes to my wife and daughter, that’s where I feel I must use all means of defense.”

“You draw a fine line, Pastor Nour.”

“Sometimes that’s all the line you need.”

“But isn’t killing killing? Doesn’t the Bible say not to kill? It seems contradictory to me that a man of God such as yourself should resort to harming others rather than just trusting God to protect you and your family.”

“First of all, the Bible says ‘Do not murder,’ not ‘Do not kill,’” Naheem said. As he talked, he pulled a loaded clip out of his pants pocket. He expertly ejected the empty one from the pistol, slid the full one in, and chambered a round before placing the gun back on the desk with the grip facing Marwan. “I believe I am fully justified in using force to protect those that God has placed under my care.”

Marwan took the gun, ensured that the safety was on, then tucked it into his waistband. “If that’s the case, let’s talk about how we’re going to protect all of our lives.”

“Son, first I’d like to talk about how we can protect your soul.”

63

Ramy shifted impatiently, but Goddard ignored him. He needed to see this confirmation before he acted on it in any way.

Finally his phone beeped. He opened the message and read the attached documents. All showed exactly what DuVall had said they would. Closing his phone, he turned to Ramy.

“Your brother’s using the alias of Tariq Jameel, correct?”

The stunned look on Ramy’s face was confirmation enough.

“He was staying in an apartment just outside of Cairo in Heliopolis, near the airport, right?”

Ramy hesitated and then slowly nodded.

“What can you tell me about Dalia Nour?”

“Never heard of her.”

Goddard brought his hand down on the table. “Come on! Whether you believe it or not, I’m trying to help your brother! Tell me about Dalia Nour.”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know who she is!”

Goddard stared at Ramy.
He’s telling the truth. Looks like big brother is withholding information from little brother.

He closed his eyes for a moment to calm down. When he opened them, he said, “Your brother thinks someone inside this investigation is framing him, right?”

Again, Ramy nodded cautiously.

“And you sent your people to Brazil to find Claudette Ramsey because you and your brother believed she was blackmailing her husband, right?” Goddard pressed.

“That’s right.”

“And his plan has been to stay on the run until you found Mrs. Ramsey and figured out who was trying to kill him?”

“Yes,” Ramy confirmed.

“But the problem was that when your guys found Mrs. Ramsey, you weren’t sure whom to turn her over to—you didn’t know whom you could trust down there or who was compromised, right? So you told your men to wait for further instructions.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But you’re stuck in jail and Inspector Lemieux is on the verge of tracking down your brother and throwing him into jail too—if he doesn’t kill him first, right?”

“‘If he doesn’t . . .’ What’s your point, Inspector?” Ramy asked. “Are you offering me a deal or something?”

“Mr. Accad,” Goddard replied, “I have become convinced that your brother is innocent.”

Ramy threw his hands up as he dropped back in the chair. “That’s what I’ve been telling you from the beginning.”

“Well, now I believe you. I also believe you when you say there is a mole in our investigation.”

Ramy’s eyes grew wide. “Who is it?”

“Marcel Lemieux.”

Ramy gasped. “The lead investigator? You’re sure?”

“I am now,” Goddard said. “When I received the court order to tap all of your phone calls, I also gained access to your e-mails.” He could see Ramy’s anger at that revelation, but he pressed on. “In searching through your e-mails, my assistant, Colette DuVall, discovered one from a high-ranking official in French intelligence. Do you know of whom I am speaking?”

“That’s Pierre Bessette. We’ve known each other for years. He’s clean as a whistle. There’s no way you can convince me he’s in league with Lemieux,” Ramy said defensively.

“Stay with me. I’m not trying to tell you that. Do you remember the e-mail he sent you a few days ago while you were in Baghdad—the one where he said that Lemieux had asked French intelligence for copies of their files on Marwan Accad?”

“Sure, but what does that prove? Wouldn’t you expect Lemieux to track down everything he could about his prime suspect in a high-profile murder?”

“Of course he would,” Goddard agreed. “However, DuVall tracked down that original e-mail from Lemieux to French intelligence. That one, my dear sir, was dated three days before Ramsey’s murder in Monte Carlo.”

“Three days
before
the shooting? I don’t understand. That would mean . . .”

“. . . that Lemieux knew Accad was onto Claudette Ramsey’s scheme. Lemieux has to be the one working with her. He planned the hit on Rafeeq Ramsey and your brother to protect both her and, more importantly, himself, because if Claudette was ever found out, it wouldn’t take much to run the trail back to him.”

“And he’s in a race against you to try to find Marwan.”

“Right. And if he finds him first, your brother’s a dead man.”

“How close is Lemieux to finding Marwan?” Ramy asked, his face showing his rising anxiety.

“I’ve got to think he’s very close, Ramy,” Goddard admitted. “He’s always seemed to be one step ahead of us. Which is why I need your help. Tell me where your brother is, and let me get him into protective custody until I can bring charges against Lemieux and get him arrested.”

“I’d help you if I could, Inspector Goddard,” Ramy said. “But I honestly don’t know where Marwan is right now. The only way I can reach him is on my satellite phone. That’s the sole number he’ll accept a call from.”

“Okay, your sat phone is in my hotel room,” Goddard said. “I’ve been monitoring it in case your brother called. We’ve got to try another call to warn him. I need to know if I can trust you to work with me on this.”

Ramy reached his hand across the table, and Goddard took it. “One hundred percent, Detective. You’re the only other one around here besides me who seems to be interested in saving Marwan’s life.”

Goddard signed all the paperwork necessary to release Ramy Accad. Then the two hurried out of the police station, jumped into a cab, and raced to the hotel.

64

Marwan rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the slight scratch of the dried sweat from his earlier run. Then he stood and walked to the window.
This is the last thing I want to be talking about right now.

He drummed his fingers on the sill.
However, doesn’t he at least deserve a hearing? He’s opened up his home to me, demonstrated his trust in me—he’s even gone so far as to arm me! He at least deserves enough respect from me to hear what he has to say. Then, when he’s got it out of his system, we’ll start planning how to protect the family.

Reluctantly he returned to his stool. “Okay, give it your best shot.”

“Ah, a challenge! I like that. I’ll tell you what,” Naheem said with a smile. “I’ll ask you one question, and I’m done. Unless, that is, you ask me for more. Fair enough?”

Marwan nodded.

“Let’s say one of those bullets finds you tomorrow or the next day,” Naheem said, shooting his fingers at Marwan’s forehead. “Suddenly you’re standing before God and he asks you, ‘Marwan, why should I let you into my heaven?’ What would you say?”

Marwan thought for a moment before responding. “There’s nothing I could say. I don’t deserve to be in heaven—I know it and God knows it. He knows what I’ve done in my life. He wouldn’t even bother asking the question.”

“Interesting. Are you happy with that answer?”

“No. But it is what it is.”

The two sat silently. Marwan stared at the ground, but he could feel Naheem’s eyes on him. He looked up. “Is that it? Are you done?”

Naheem shrugged. “I already broke my promise by asking you two questions instead of just one.”

“You’re a crafty old man,” Marwan said with a bitter smile. “With all due respect, of course.”

“Of course.”

Just let it go! Move on! There’s no time to deal with this stuff. You can work it through after you have a plan or maybe even after this whole thing blows over. Now is not the time.

But part of him would not, could not, let it go. “Okay, you win. Go on,” he said.

“As you wish,” Naheem said with a twinkle in his eye. “You said it wouldn’t matter what you said because of all the things you’ve done. But I’ll tell you that it’s those very same things that you’ve done that actually don’t matter.”

Marwan dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“You’re right. But God does, and still he wants you to be part of his family. You see, there’s nothing you can do that will move you any closer to God or any farther away from him. All of us have sinned and become separated from him. And the only way back is through taking his free gift of salvation.”

Marwan nodded. “‘Salvation is a gift, not a payment.’”

Naheem looked surprised. “Yes.”

“Dalia told me you used to say that a lot.”

The older man smiled. “I did. And I still do. Because it’s true. And here’s something else that’s true. You told me about your friend Kadeen, who was killed after he helped you. He proved his love for you by putting his life on the line to save yours. But you need to know that you’ve got another friend who also sacrificed himself for you—and he did it not to protect your life but to protect your death.”

Marwan shook his head. “You’re losing me, Pastor.”

“Let me put it this way. This life is just a blip in our eternity. We are put here on earth for a short time with the purpose of serving God and loving others. Once this short life is over, eternity begins, and you will either spend it with God or apart from God.

“Jesus died so that you can know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that your eternity is safe in God’s hands. But as we’ve both said, there’s nothing you can do to earn that precious gift. All you can do is receive it.”

“But that’s the frustrating thing,” Marwan said, getting up to look out the window again. This conversation was making him extremely uncomfortable, but for some reason he just couldn’t break away. “Everyone talks about ‘receiving the gift’ and ‘accepting his sacrifice’ and ‘being born again.’ You may know what you’re saying, but to someone like me, I have no clue what you’re talking about. Yes, I want to receive the gift,” he said, holding out his hands. When nothing magically appeared, he threw them up. “Do you see what I mean? They’re meaningless words.”

“You want to know the difficult, soul-wrenching, spiritually-exhausting process of receiving the gift of salvation?”

Marwan held out his hands again. “I’m ready,” he said, half-mocking.

“Just say yes.”

Marwan dropped his hands. “Just say yes?”

“Exactly. Just say yes. Yes to Christ. Yes, Jesus, I believe you are who you said you are—the Son of God. Yes, I believe you died for my sins. Yes, I want your forgiveness for all I’ve done. Yes, I want to live for you.”

“Yes, huh? That’s it?”

“That’s it. The Bible calls it believing and receiving. Believing means you accept it with your head as truth. Receiving means you accept it with your heart as the principle on which you are going to base your life. Believing and receiving—yes, Jesus, I believe in you; yes, Jesus, I receive you as my Lord.”