WASHINGTON DC: The Sadir Affair (The Puppets of Washington Book 1)
Chapter 80
“You don’t have to stay and babysit me,” Billycan protested once again as Marcel was refusing to leave the US Attorney until Darlene arrived. He had called and asked her to come to Billycan’s house without giving her much of an explanation.
“I know that…, but I’ll stay until Darlene gets here,” Marcel replied.
“You miserable romantic!” Billycan blurted as he poured a stiff scotch for the two of them. “Do you really think I want a woman’s company now?”
“You may not want to, sir, but I think you will appreciate it once you relax.”
Billycan laughed. “And I’ll have to take her out for dinner, I suppose”
“Oh no, you don’t! As a matter of fact, I should think that bullet was not meant for Van Dams but for you.”
Billycan put the two glasses on the coffee table before he answered, “Maybe...” He sat down. “Yet, if you think of everything we’ve heard thus far, you have to conclude that Van Dams was the linchpin that moved the wheels in this affair.” Marcel watched the U.S. Attorney a circumspect look on his face. “Yes, Marcel. Look…, Van Dams knew of Sadir’s involvement in West Africa. He had access to these communications that our defendant had with Mossad and with Assor. He was aware at least of Lypsick’s movements if not of his menacing Sadir’s family, and last he was well informed of the FBI’s participation into fabricating evidence to inculpate Ms Kartz.”
Marcel continued staring. The picture became clear in his mind. “Would you then conclude Van Dams was the ‘Puppeteer’?”
“No, Marcel, but he was sure near the top of the chain.”
Marcel took a swig of his drink. Billycan’s conclusion made sense, but he was still worried. “Even if that’s true, sir, wouldn’t you say these guys have you in their sights? They would know that you’ve deduced the truth after Khalid’s testimony this afternoon.”
“But I’m not going into hiding, if that’s what you’ve got in mind. I’ll be in court in the morning as usual and I won’t do these assassins their bidding under any circumstances.”
“Even if it kills you?”
Billycan took a sip of scotch and kept the glass in the one hand. “The next bullet won’t hit me. I promise you. That would be too obvious a move after this man on the court steps told me to watch my back and Van Dams’s shooting. I tell you; whoever it is would be a fool to try it.”
Marcel was replaying the incident in his mind, drinking his scotch concertedly. “Did Van Dams say anything before he died?”
“Huh-huh; he said just one word, ‘Lypsick’, but that will remain between you and me for now, until I can figure out what he meant.”
“Do you think he meant Lypsick fired the shot?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he meant that they found the guy; but we’ll find that out soon enough.”
They heard the doorbell. Marcel went to the front door and after looking through the peephole, opened it wide. “Ms Stovall, good evening,” he said, extending a hand for her to shake. “Good of you to come.”
Darlene took Marcel’s hand and dragged him close to her with it. “Why didn’t you say anything? I heard the whole thing on the radio…”
“Please come in. We’re in the study.” Marcel didn’t want to answer. He pulled his hand away and backed up from the attorney. He knew Billycan would be standing behind him any minute now. And he was.
“Darlene! Thank you for joining us, but I think Marcel was a bit pre-emptive in his calling you to my side...” Billycan’s jocularity didn’t ring true.
“Pre-emptive? Pre-emptive, you say? I should say it was the right thing to do. You look a mess!” She was right. His shirt was undone at the collar. His necktie hung down his chest and with his hair tousled, Billycan looked a sorry sight indeed.
She approached him. “And why didn’t you call me yourself, you selfish bastard?” She took the glass away from him. “You almost got shot, and you want to dismiss me like a second-rate housekeeper. Where is she anyway?”
“If you’re talking about Melinda, she won’t be back until morning now…, why?”
Marcel observed the bantering with pleasure. It was time for him to leave. “Sir, I’ll be here at 8:00…”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Marcel... Are you leaving now?” Approval laced the question. “Okay…, but you don’t have to come here in the morning. I’ll be fine. Carl will drive me as usual.”
“Okay then... I’ll see you in court,” Marcel said. “Ms Stovall—a pleasure as always.”