Operation Mockingbird (7 page)

Mo’s mother and sister were crying softly. Mr. Al-Ahmed leaned over and murmured something in his wife’s ear.

“So was he arrested?” Matt finally asked.

Mr. Al-Ahmed turned back to Matt and shrugged his shoulders. “The private investigator was never able to find any records indicating that Mohammed had been arrested -- by the Jordanian police or the military. Both deny they have him or even detained him.”

“What about the U.S. government?” Matt asked. “Did you try to contact the U.S. Embassy in Jordan?”

“Of course. They said they would make some inquiries, but they haven’t gotten back to us. We keep calling but they say they don’t know anything.”

“What more can we do, Matt?” Mr. Al-Ahmed said urgently.

Mrs. Al-Ahmed reached past her husband and grabbed Matt’s hand tightly. “You must help us, Matt.” She looked at him with eyes filled with tears. “Please. We don’t know what else to do.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE NEXT MORNING Matt called Bob Sandberg, a war correspondent for the
Washington Post
whom he had met through Stephen. Bob was the veteran of the group, having spent time in Bosnia, Haiti and Iraq and having covered more wars than most career military officers. He was also the most cynical, no doubt after years of witnessing American soldiers at their best and the government agencies for which they served at their very worst. With his rapier wit, Bob was known for delivering narrative as deadly as rifle shots.

Bob arrived in Iraq before the war started and then traveled back and forth between Iraq and the United States for several years. Three years after President Bush declared the end of military operations, when it was clear that military operations were not at all over and wouldn’t be any time soon, Bob found out that his bride, the fellow journalist he had married after many years as an avowed bachelor, was pregnant with twin boys. Almost overnight, his priorities had changed, and he returned to the States permanently.

Matt knew that since returning, Bob had been covering national politics for the
Post.
He still had to deal with warring factions and covert operations and the bad guy was harder to identify, but at least he didn’t have to travel with armed guards and he wasn’t ducking live bullets on a daily basis.

Matt called Bob’s home in Bethesda, Maryland. A woman answered the phone on the third ring. Since Matt didn’t recognize the voice, he identified himself and asked to speak with Bob.

Before the person answering the phone could respond, he heard a voice in the background asking “Who is it, Sandra?”

Although muffled, Matt could still hear. “Someone by the name of Matt Connelly. He’s looking for Bob.”

Matt heard shuffling and more voices in the background. Finally, a new voice came on the line. “Matt, it’s Marie.”

“Hey, Marie. Is Bob there? I just got back from Afghanistan and wanted to catch up.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Uh, if I’ve called at a bad time, I can call back later,” Matt finally said.

“No, that’s okay,” Marie said. “Welcome back, Matt. I’m glad you’re home safe.”

“Thank you. It’s good to be back. I was hoping to catch Bob,” Matt reminded her.

Another long pause.

“Marie, are you still there?”

“Ummm… You don’t know.”

“Know what?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this.” Her voice sounded slightly off, distant but also slow and slurred, like she had been drinking.

“Tell me what, Marie? What’s going on?”

“Bob died three weeks ago.”

“Oh, my God,” Matt exclaimed. He fumbled for the right words. “Marie, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.” The words hung in the air awkwardly but they were all he had.

“How are you holding up?” Matt asked after a moment.

“I’m managing,” she replied simply.

“What happened?”

He could hear the sound of a child fussing in the background and someone attempting to quiet the child.

“They say it was an accident,” Marie began slowly before lowering her voice and continuing more quickly, “but, Matt, I know that’s not right.”

Before he could respond, he heard the woman in the background. “Marie ...”

“Matt, no one will listen to me but I’m sure it wasn’t an accident.” The child’s sobs grew louder.

“It’s a bad time, Matt,” Marie continued. “My sister’s here. She’s been helping me out.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s no bother, Matt. I have to go now, but I would like to talk to you. Can you come visit me?”

“Of course, Marie.”

“How soon can you come?” she said in a whisper.

Before he could respond, there was the sound of activity and then someone else was on the line.

“This is an extremely difficult time for us, Mr. Connelly,” the new voice said. Marie’s sister, Matt assumed.

“I understand,” he stammered.

“Marie’s quite upset right now. I have to hang up the phone.”

“Okay,” Matt said weakly.

Then for the second time in as many days, Matt was left listening to dead air.

Matt had debated his next call since first meeting with the Al-Ahmed family. He hated calling in favors and this one was particularly difficult, but Mo was in trouble and this was the only way Matt knew to help him.

He waited until after noon before doing it. Her assistant would be at lunch so she would answer the phone directly. It would be more difficult for her to dodge his call, if she was still so inclined.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Dana Fried,” the familiar voice said in a clipped tone.

He hesitated briefly.

“Hello?” Dana jumped in impatiently.

“Hi, Dana,” he began. “It’s me ... Matt.”

“Maaatt.” She drew out the name, letting it linger in the air for several moments after she said it. “I heard you were back in town.”

“Word travels fast.”

“The power of the Internet.”

Small talk and then a pregnant pause filled the distance between them.

“So, what can I do for you?” She was always to the point. “I assume this is not a social call.”

“I need your help, Dana.”

Again, that damn irritating pause.

“It’s about Mo.”

Matt knew that Dana liked Mo. After Matt had introduced the two of them, Mo had become one of her favorite people, and they kept in touch regularly by email. Matt also knew Dana would do whatever she could to help their mutual friend. She had already helped him professionally by introducing him to sources and contacts he had used for some of his investigations.

“What about Mo?” Dana asked.

“A few weeks ago, Mo was returning home from the Middle East. He was picked up in Jordan. He hasn’t been seen or heard from since. Neither the Jordanian government nor the U.S. Embassy will say what happened, but witnesses say he was picked up by government officials.”

Matt paused, and when Dana didn’t say anything, he continued. “No one has heard from Mo. No one knows where he is or what’s going on. His family is frantic.”

“I had no idea,” she replied softly with what sounded like genuine concern in her voice.

“How could this happen, Dana?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Come on. You work for the government. What the hell’s going on?”

“Matt, calm down,” Dana said firmly. “I’m not responsible for this. I’m not the enemy. If you want my help, you need to understand that. Now, tell me what you know. And then I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay,” Matt said. He told her everything he had learned from the Al-Ahmed family. Dana asked several pointed questions, and he knew she was taking copious notes. It didn’t take much for her legal training to kick in.

“Okay. This is helpful. I’ll make a few phone calls,” Dana said and then paused. “Matt, you know I’ll do everything I can to help,” she said after a few seconds.

“I know.”

Matt looked at his watch and noticed that only ten minutes had passed since he started the call to Dana. It seemed like much longer.

“So … uh … Matt,” Dana began, interrupting the silence. “How long have you been back in town?”

“Just a couple of days.”

Another awkward pause. “How have you been?” Matt finally asked.

“I’ve been good. Busy but good. What with the war on terror and renewed focus on U.S. immigration policies, I’ve been keeping very busy. I can’t complain, though. For me, insecurity is job security.”

They both laughed weakly.

“I’m sure you’re reveling in these new challenges, Dana,” Matt finally said. “You’ve always been driven by more than just job security.”

There was another awkward pause, and Matt wasn’t sure he had it in him to keep this conversation going with more small talk. He suspected Dana felt the same way. They
quickly ended the call rather than risk further engagement that might lead to topics they weren’t prepared to discuss.

CHAPTER EIGHT

TWO DAYS LATER, Matt decided to go to New York City to check on his friend Stephen Cross. Afterwards, he planned to go to Baltimore to see Marie Sandberg. Matt still hadn’t had any luck reaching his old friend but he wasn’t worried. Stephen had been known to get wrapped up in a story and hibernate in his apartment until the story was done.

It was pouring rain, and his cab had barely come to a stop at Columbus and 78
^th
when Matt leaned forward and pushed a few bills through the tiny opening in the Plexiglas separating passenger from driver. He jumped out of the backseat without waiting for change and raced up the stairs of the brownstone, even as the rain attempted to beat him back to the comfort of the car. He pressed the buzzer for Stephen’s apartment and huddled under the meager overhang of the building waiting to be buzzed in. There was no response, so he pressed again and held the button down for several seconds. Still nothing. He leaned out past the overhang and looked up into the rain, squinting in the general direction of the window for Stephen’s apartment then retreated back to the relative comfort of the stoop to give the buzzer one last try.

Matt was considering his options when the front door swung open and a man walked out with his dog on a leash. The man buried his face under the hood of his raincoat and started down the stairs without looking up. Matt caught the door as it started to close and walked into the vestibule of the building. He jogged up the four flights of stairs, still hopeful he might find Stephen buried in his laptop. An annoyed Stephen, irritated about being interrupted, would be a welcome reprieve from the interminable silence over the last several days.

Matt knocked on the door to his friend’s apartment. He tried again when he didn’t hear anything on the other side.

Matt looked up and down the hallway before he bent down in front of Stephen’s door and lifted up the doormat. Nothing but dirt. Glancing around again, Matt reached up to the top corner of the door frame. He ran his fingers across the top. Nothing but smudged fingertips.

He was still there, contemplating his next move when a woman walked out of the apartment next door to Stephen’s. Dressed in black pants and black sweater, she deftly juggled a coffee mug in one hand, her keys in the other and an umbrella wedged under one arm. She even had a large briefcase slung over one shoulder. She didn’t notice Matt standing there as she balanced her formidable load while simultaneously locking her door. She turned away from the door and finally looked up as she started to walk down the hall. Her eyes widened when she noticed Matt standing there.

“Sorry -- I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said quickly. “I’m Matt Connelly. A friend of Stephen’s.” He pointed to Stephen’s door and then reflexively extended his hand before realizing that wasn’t going to work.

“Hi, I’m Jill, Stephen’s neighbor -- obviously.” She nodded her head back in the direction of the apartment before acknowledging Matt with a smile and tip of her coffee mug.

“Sorry to bother you. I can see you’re on your way out.”

“Yeah. On my way to work.”

“Just real quickly before you go. Any idea if Stephen’s around?”

She paused as she considered the question. “I haven’t seen Stephen for a couple of weeks. I think he’s out of town.”

“On assignment somewhere?”

She put down her briefcase. “Well, at first I didn’t think so because he usually lets me know before he goes out of town for work. I water his plants,” she explained. “But I haven’t seen him for a few weeks, so I guess he could be.”

“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that,” Matt continued. “I’m in town from Miami and I had hoped to catch him while I was here.”

“You came all this way just to see Stephen?”

“Sort of. I’m on my way to visit a friend in Maryland so I thought I’d stop by. I’m catching a train at one o’clock.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” she said as she reached down for her briefcase.

“Hey, listen,” Matt began quickly, “you wouldn’t happen to have a spare key to Stephen’s apartment, would you?” She looked at him and didn’t respond. “You mentioned you water his plants.”

“Well, yeah, I do. We both travel a lot and gave each other copies, seeing as we don’t have a super for the building and all.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but do you think maybe I could borrow it? I could hang out at Stephen’s place until I have to leave to catch my train.”

“I don’t know,” she replied slowly.

“I wouldn’t be there for very long,” Matt interrupted. “Just until I have to leave to catch my train.”

“Ummm. I guess so,” Jill said hesitantly.

“I’m sure Stephen wouldn’t mind,”

“Okay. Let me get you the key.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate this,” Matt said as she walked back toward her apartment.

“Here you go,” she said a moment later as she handed him the key. “Just make sure you leave it under my mat when you leave.”

“Great. Thanks. I really appreciate this.”

“Well, I have to run.” Jill said as she leaned down and picked up her briefcase. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, same here,” Matt said and then watched appreciatively as she deftly maneuvered down the stairs.

Matt turned to Stephen’s door, inserted the key and unlocked the deadbolt. He couldn’t help but knock and call Stephen’s name before slowly opening the door. He stepped hesitantly into the apartment and then stopped short.