Live from Moscow (6 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

As a rule Gallagher didn't spend lengthy periods on the Internet. He
employed it mostly for breaking news. This afternoon was an exception. He was
at his desk digging into Tajikistan. What he was finding didn't make sense.
Recent U.S. State Department bulletins, released in January and re-affirmed in
July, presented a confusing picture:

This Public Announcement replaces the Travel Warning dated December 20.
It is being issued to reflect the decrease in incidents of political violence
in Dushanbe and the rest of the country. The Department of State reminds U.S.
citizens, however, that the potential for terrorist actions against Americans
in Tajikistan remains. U.S. citizens should evaluate carefully the implications
for their security and safety before deciding to travel to Tajikistan. The
political security situation in Tajikistan has improved in the last two years.
Nevertheless, terrorist groups allied with al Qaeda, such as the
Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU), remain active in Tajikistan and
still pose risks to travelers. In the past, the IMU has been responsible for
hostage-takings and border skirmishes near the Uzbek-Tajik-Kyrgyz border areas.
The U.S. Embassy in Dushanbe continues to observe heightened security
precautions…

Was security improving or not? How could the country be getting safer
despite the persistence of "terrorist actions against Americans," not
to mention "hostage-takings and border skirmishes"? Gallagher located
the current State Department "Advisory" on Tajikistan and found
similar contradictions.

Security personnel may at times place foreign visitors under
surveillance. Hotel rooms, telephones, and fax machines may be monitored, and
personal possessions in hotel rooms may be searched. Taking photographs of
anything that could be perceived as being of military or security interest may
result in problems with the authorities.

From time to time, the U.S. Embassy may suspend or otherwise restrict the
travel of U.S. Embassy personnel to Tajikistan and within Tajikistan. The
Department of State relocated U.S. Embassy operations from Dushanbe, Tajikistan
to Almaty, Kazakhstan in 1998 due to instability in Tajikistan, threats against
Americans and American interests worldwide, and the limited ability to secure
the safety of U.S.

Embassy personnel in Dushanbe. For the time being, American diplomatic
personnel officially reside in Almaty, Kazakhstan, but spend most of

their time in Tajikistan. This situation is likely to persist at least
through 2007…

Bradford had said there was no permanent State Department presence in
Tajikistan. And that Bill Hermann, the U.S. intelligence "liaison"
whom Bradford had interviewed, was based in Almaty and visited Dushanbe only
several days per week. Franklin Stanson was based in Moscow but had said much
the same thing.

Gallagher remembered Bradford's characterization of U.S. policy toward
Tajikistan. "In flux," he’d said during a phone call before his
departure. What was U.S. policy? It struck Gallagher as confused and ambiguous.
Next he turned to independent news media. He knew Western coverage of
Tajikistan was meager, but did a search of recent bulletins from wire services.
There were no indications of newfound stability:

March 27-Three French Medical Aid Workers Slaughtered

Three French doctors from the French organization
Médecins Sans Frontières
were
found decapitated yesterday along the main road east of Dushanbe, Tajikistan.
Local authorities said they suspect Al Qaeda operatives…

May 2-Chinese Road Engineers shot in "Random Attack"

Five Chinese road engineers were gunned down on Saturday in a remote
region of northern Tajikistan. According to Tajik officials, the attack was
conducted by a team of four masked gunmen, who later escaped in an all-terrain
vehicle. They have described the attack as "random." Four of the
engineers died during or shortly after the attack; the fifth is in critical
condition in a Dushanbe hospital…

July 3-German Student Missing in Dushanbe

Dushanbe, Tajikistan-Jorgen Klein, 21, a student from Munich, Germany,
was reported missing Thursday from his hotel in the center of the capital.
Local law enforcement sources said they are investigating the disappearance.
Klein's family in Munich has appealed to the German Foreign Ministry for
further answers…

In October there were several headlines about Bradford, which Gallagher read
with a nauseating sensation. He leaned back in his chair, removed his glasses
and held the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger. Why hadn't he
done this research earlier? He'd relied on Bradford to make informed choices.
And now he was sending Conley into the same murk and anarchy.

"Art?"

Gallagher startled and turned toward the door of his office. Larson stood
there, holding the stem of her reading glasses in one hand and wearing her
usual expression of cool appraisal.

"Heard from Conley?" she asked.

"Not yet. His first interview with Claire was just this morning."

"Anyway…Glad I caught you before you left."

Gallagher turned full around with a loud squeak from his chair. Something
about her tone added to his unease.

"Harry wants to have another meeting tomorrow," she said.

"About Conley?"

She nodded.

"Did he say why?"

"Only that he wants to expand the scope of the assignment. Give it more
importance."

"What does that mean?"

Larson begged off with an open palm. "That's all he would say."

Gallagher stroked his beard and released a long exhalation. This assignment
already suffered enough pressures.

"Nine o'clock tomorrow," she said. "Right after the editorial
meeting."

"I'll be there," Gallagher answered, giving her a worried look.

This was already their second day of French. For Claire, the slow pace was
getting a little frustrating. She listened as Conley formulated another
question---this one about Peter's investigation of smuggling circles in Prague.
Conley's grammar was more or less correct. But he searched for words. Her
impression was that he hadn't utilized his French in quite a while. At last he
reached a punctuation mark.

"He called around lunchtime on those two days," she answered,
referring quickly to her notes. "In the evenings he ventured into cafes
and bars where these Albanian criminals are supposed to congregate."

"What was he hoping to gain?"

"He didn't attempt any direct contacts. He just wanted visual
impressions."

"Did he succeed?"

"As far as he told me, yes."

Claire reviewed scenes and people that Peter had described, then took a deep
breath while Conley scribbled on his notepad. The two of them were camped at
another window table, this one in a cafe along the Champs Elysees.  They'd
each had several cups of coffee. Vehicles hummed outside along the wide
boulevard.

Today the void inside her felt more acute. Comparisons came to mind. Peter's
mastery of French had been so complete, almost to the point where she'd taken
it for granted. Just one of the ways in which he'd been exceptional…such
a scholar, so many languages…

She and Conley devoted another hour to Prague, then the second half of the
morning to Moscow. She endured the session with her best cheer, but was glad
when he wrapped up around 12:45 and signaled for the check.

"I'd invite you for lunch again today, Steve," she said.
"However I'm meeting a friend."

"I'm monopolizing your time as it is, Claire."

He smiled, appearing satisfied with the interview. Claire smiled back, as
best she could. They'd gotten through another day.

"I chose this café because it's near Peter's office," she
said. "Peter got it because our apartment is rather small.  I'll take
you there now and give you the keys. You can work there the rest of the week,
if you want."

Minutes later they were striding up a broad sidewalk of the boulevard,
toward the Arc de Triomphe. Conley bore his laptop case in one hand. 
Claire grew eager to recount her progress to Veronique, over lunch. 

Conley was tolerable in half-day allotments. And he did seem committed to
this assignment, in his own methodical way. Still, why couldn't he show a bit
more drive, like Peter?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Overall Conley felt upbeat. He'd held his focus and re-activated his French.
Nonetheless being alone in Bradford's office was unsettling.

He was seated at Bradford's desk in an upholstered chair. Everything
appeared preserved since Bradford's last visit---the Friday after Prague and
just before the next leg to Moscow.  Bradford's personal effects were all
around: on the desk a photographic portrait of Claire, on one wall a framed
Harvard diploma with a summa cum laude notation, on another a large map
encompassing Europe and the former Soviet Union. Furnishings were modern,
standard-issue stained-wood, supplied by the office leasing company that
managed the floor. Conley swiveled around. A tall, two-paned, French-style
window looked out on Avenue Wagram. By leaning forward and looking to his left
up the street, he could see one corner of the Arc de Triomphe.

Underneath the window were a low file cabinet and a small bookshelf. Another
photograph stood on top of the cabinet, which he picked up and examined. It
showed Bradford and Claire sitting on the deck of a large sailboat, wearing
foul-weather gear. The vessel appeared to be of racing variety. Conley guessed
the photo was taken in the U.S., but he couldn't tell for sure. There were
whitecaps on the water and the boat was heeling. Claire held her hair away from
her face with one hand, curves obvious even in her gear. Bradford held his arm
around her. Both of them wore contented grins.

On the bookshelf there was a small collection of books, mostly on history
and politics, in both English and French. Several books in Russian as well;
Conley couldn't read the titles but assumed they fell in the same category. On
the lower shelf was a small stack of academic journals from the Russian and
Slavic Studies Department at the Sorbonne. More evidence that Bradford wasn't
some scion dilettante, biding his time in the field until he assumed a higher
mantle. Bradford strove. He was serious.

Next Conley opened the top drawer of the file cabinet and looked inside.
Bradford's paper files were meager. There was a slim hanging folder marked
"Heroin Trade" which contained photocopied newspaper and magazine
articles from the European press. All other printed materials were related to
previous stories. These were also sparse; it seemed Bradford had preferred
electronic storage.

He turned and dropped the heroin-related folder onto the desk, for later
perusal.  His attention fell next on a plastic case of back-up CD-ROM disks
on top of the cabinet---small and unlocked. He flipped open the cover and
looked at the first disk in the rack.  There was a list of dates, scrawled
by hand.  The last was September 27
^th
---the Friday Bradford
returned from Prague. Conley set up his own laptop on the desk.  After
boot-up he inserted the CD and viewed the disk's contents.

One master folder was labeled "World Tribune," and contained a
sub-folder entitled "Heroin trade."  Conley opened it and saw
about 30 files: reports from governments, law enforcement agencies and the
United Nations, along with some newspaper articles in HTML format.  He
copied the entire folder onto a flash memory stick.

There were about a dozen other master folders, with labels including
"Finances," "Academic," "Claire,"
"Family," and "Legal."  No need to delve into these,
he decided---not his business.

However he couldn't help but notice dates of last access.

"Finances" and "Legal" had been opened on October 19 and
again on October 23.  How could this be, more than a week after Bradford's
murder? Conley thought for a moment. Perhaps Claire or some other family member
had accessed them in connection with Bradford's estate. Other master folders
had remained un-opened since backup. Conley removed the disk from the drive and
placed it back in the rack on the cabinet.

Next he opened a file on his laptop and pulled out his cell-phone. He spent
much of the afternoon lining up and confirming interviews in Prague and Moscow.

As evening approached he opened his e-mail program, in order to send a
message to Gallagher before dinner:

Art,

Tried calling earlier but just got your voice mail.

First two days with Claire have gone well. I had worried that talking
about Bradford would be a strain for her. But she's composed and businesslike.
Also well prepared. She even assembled a bunch of notes before I arrived.

So prepared, in fact, that we went into more detail than I had originally
planned;  the sessions lasted longer than I expected. Yesterday we talked
mainly about Bradford's expectations for the story. The session lasted the
whole morning and included lunch. This morning we covered Prague and Moscow.

Bradford did a lot of preliminary research on the heroin pipeline. I now
have access to those files in his former office. Claire's letting me work there
this week.

Bradford explored---albeit in a limited way---the Parisian heroin scene
as well, as you know. Claire told me about that at length. He went to a suburb
called Argenteuil, where dealers and users congregate. I'm aware of your concerns
about safety, but I'm inclined to venture out there tomorrow or Friday,
probably in the evening. Bradford did, and came to no harm. Obviously safety
will become a more pressing concern when I reach Dushanbe.

As you know Bradford had a very broad vision for the story. He saw the
heroin trade as an embodiment of several geo-strategic conflicts: the poverty
of Central Asia versus the prosperity of Western Europe, Islamic terrorism
versus the West; chaos in the former Soviet Union versus efforts by Russia to
re-establish control. Really does make an interesting subject.

Appointments are already falling into place for Prague and Moscow. I
should have my schedule for meetings finalized by the end of the week. I'll aim
to reach you by phone tomorrow.

Steve

There was a high-speed cable connection in Bradford's office. Conley
connected and sent the message, then perused the on-line edition of the
World
Tribune.
Before disconnecting he considered writing an e-mail to Jenna.
Instead he disconnected and powered down; he could write her later. Paris
beckoned. He was eager to find a café and have a beer or two before
dinner.

The red-faced and affable personage of Mike Fallon appeared in the
conference room before Harry Whitcombe. That gave Gallagher an immediate notion
what this gathering was about.

"Not much of a hello, Art," Fallon said, grinning. "You
blanched when you saw me."

"Sorry, Mike. Just didn't expect you."

"I'm as in the dark as you are," Fallon explained in apologetic
tone as he sat down.

Normally Gallagher liked collaborating with Fallon. They were friends, with
a relationship that extended outside the newspaper. From one end of the table,
Larson observed them over the tops of her reading glasses. She offered Fallon a
polite greeting before she returned to her notes. All other editors had
departed after the morning's news conclave.

Whitcombe materialized in short order and took his usual place of command.
Gallagher expected to start with a quick summary of Conley's progress in Paris,
and pulled out a printout of Conley's e-mail. Whitcombe preempted.

"No need, Art. I spoke to Claire last night."

"Oh? How's she finding it?"

"Very positive. She said Conley is deliberate and thorough."

Paris is the easy part, Gallagher thought to himself.

"Moreover I could tell," Whitcombe added. "This is giving her
a boost. You can't imagine, Art…It means a lot to her."

Gallagher offered an uncertain smile. A new knot formed in his stomach.

Whitcombe pressed on. "I must say I'm gaining confidence in this
project. That's why I've asked Mike here this morning." He nodded at
Fallon. "We all know Peter was the first
World Tribune
reporter to
die on assignment.  The effect has been felt all the way through our news
organization, through the whole company, in fact. Therefore Conley's assignment
is important---a way for us to complete our mourning…and to
regroup.  It also presents an opportunity, it has occurred to me…to
reconnect with our readers. Affirm our continuing commitment to news that
matters. And show what this newspaper stands for."

Gallagher waited for the other shoe to drop. Indeed, Whitcombe announced
plans for an advertising campaign. Reconnoitering his intentions, Larson asked
what he had in mind.

Much more than the usual, Whitcombe answered. Half or full-page ads.
Accompanied by radio and TV. Fallon was already intent; he was vice president
of marketing. This really grabbed his attention. "To start when,
Harry?" he asked.

"Next week. I want to ramp this up fast."

"And there'll be money budgeted?"

"More than enough. Specifically for this campaign."

Whitcombe elaborated. Fallon was to take personal charge. Formulate the ads
in cooperation with Gallagher. And business motives? Everyone at the table knew
that circulation had been in slow decline for a decade. Competition from the
Internet on classified advertising had savaged the bottom line. Was this an
attempt at resuscitation? Gallagher frowned and cleared his throat.

"Harry, I hate to offer a note of caution. But might we consider
waiting a bit…until Conley's assignment gets further along?"

Whitcombe studied him. "Why would we do that, Art?"

Gallagher glanced down at Larson. She was impassive, obviously disinclined
to help on this one.

"The outcome is still uncertain. We don't know what Conley will find
out."

"Conley's got my complete confidence," Whitcombe said,
matter-of-fact.

"Yours also, I hope Art?" Larson queried, with a penetrating gaze
over her glasses.

"Well, yes. It's that I'm wary of rushing ahead with things like this.
Don't forget we're talking about Central Asia. That means unpredictability,
just as it did with Peter."

"I appreciate your prudence, Art," Whitcombe said. "We'll
keep that in mind as we go forward."