Honor Among Thieves

“Certainly not,” said Al Obaydi, his voice rising. “It was I who discovered that Riffat was the Mossad agent Kratz.”

“You knew that Riffat was a Mossad agent?” queried the Prosecutor in mock disbelief.

“Yes, I found out when I was in Kalmar,” said Al Obaydi.

“But you told Mr. Pedersson that Mr. Riffat was a thorough man, a man who could be trusted. Am I right? So now at last we’ve found someone you can trust.”

“It was quite simply that I didn’t want Pedersson to know what I’d discovered.”

“I don’t think you wanted anyone to know what you had discovered, as I shall go on to show. What did you do next?”

“I flew back to Paris.”

“And did you spend the night at the embassy?”

“Yes, I did, but I was only stopping overnight on my way to Jordan.”

“I’ll come to your trip to Jordan in a moment, if I may. But what I should like to know now is why, when you were back at our embassy in Paris, you didn’t immediately call our Ambassador in Geneva to inform him of what you had discovered? Not only was the Ambassador in residence, but he took a call from another member of the embassy staff after you had gone to bed.”

Al Obaydi suddenly realized how Farrar knew everything. He tried to collect his thoughts.

“My only interest was getting back to Baghdad to let the Foreign Minister know the danger our leader might be facing.”

“Like the imminent danger of the Americans dropping bombs on Mukhbarat headquarters,” suggested the State Prosecutor.

“I could not have known what the Americans were planning,” shouted Al Obaydi.

“I see,” said Farrar. “It was no more than a happy coincidence that you were safely tucked up in bed in Paris while Tomahawk missiles were showering down on Baghdad.”

“But I returned to Baghdad immediately after I learned of the bombing,” insisted Al Obaydi.

“Perhaps you wouldn’t have been in quite such a hurry to return if the Americans had succeeded in assassinating our leader.”

“But my report would have proved…”

“And where is that report?”

“I intended to write it on the journey from Jordan to Baghdad.”

“How convenient. And did you advise your trustworthy friend Mr. Riffat to ring the Minister of Industry to find out if he was expected?”

“No, I did not,” said Al Obaydi. “If any of this were true,” he added, “why would I have worked so hard to see that our great leader secured the Declaration?”

“I’m glad you mentioned the Declaration,” said the State Prosecutor softly, “because I’m also puzzled by the role you played in that particular exercise. But first, let me ask you, did you trust our Ambassador in Geneva to see that the Declaration was delivered to Baghdad?”

“Yes. I did.”

“And did it reach Baghdad safely?” asked the Prosecutor, glancing at the battered parchment still nailed to the wall behind Saddam.

“Yes. It did.”

“Then why not entrust the knowledge you had acquired about the safe to the same man, remembering that it was his responsibility?”

“This was different.”

“It certainly was, and I shall show the Council just how different. How was the Declaration paid for?”

“I don’t understand,” said Al Obaydi.