Retribution

SIXTEEN

There was silence at the table overlooking the East River as everyone digested the information that had gone round the room. Deane stood up and walked over to the window, chewing his lip.

‘It seems pretty cut and dried to me,’ he murmured. ‘Information on former and current personnel is lifted from our files, and within days, two of them are dead.’ He turned and faced them. ‘In line with what we’ve heard, someone — an Afghan — is going after the CP team and Orti and Broms were the first. Any guesses as to who’s next?’

‘If the same person killed both men,’ said Harry, ‘and he’s following a plan, then whoever is nearest. At some point he’s going to end up here.’

Deane nodded. ‘Makes sense. Let’s hope it gives us some time to prepare everyone.’

‘What about Special Envoy Kleeman?’ Karen Walters asked quietly. ‘Is he under threat?’

‘Unlikely,’ Deane said. ‘The stories doing the rounds say it was a soldier, and there’s evidence to prove it: part of a uniform.’

‘That lets me out, then,’ Walters said, with a pointed glance at Deane. ‘I hate to be sexist, but last I heard, women aren’t equipped for it. Rape, I mean.’

Deane’s look was several shades less than friendly for pointing out the obvious. He said curtly, ‘And Kleeman’s a civilian — we get that. Not that it matters; thanks to his status in the UN, there’s a tighter cordon around him than the President’s cat.’

‘It would help,’ Harry put in, ‘if we could speak to someone who knew the Demescu woman. Does she have family here? Was she part of this plan or was she pressured to steal the information? Where might she have gone?’

Deane said, ‘Her supervisor’s outside. His name’s Benton Ehrlich. I’ll get him in here.’ He went to the door and leaned out, spoke to someone. Moments later, a man entered the room. He was slim, bespectacled and nervous, and clearly uncomfortable outside the familiar confines of his department. He blinked rapidly when he saw the printouts on the table.

Harry caught the look. ‘You know what these are?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Ehrlich nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

‘Did you know Ms Demescu well?’

‘Sure, sir. Well, we worked together.’ He glanced around at the others, his face flushing under their scrutiny.

‘You had no idea she was accessing unauthorized files?’

Ehrlich shook his head. ‘No way, sir. Irina — Miss Demescu — always seemed real keen, sir, but she kind of kept to herself.’

‘You ever socialize with her, Benton?’ Karen Walters put in. ‘Did she ever talk about her family?’

Ehrlich shrugged. ‘Well, we had drinks a couple of times — I mean with other people, you know. But that was all. She didn’t drink alcohol and was kind of private. She didn’t say much, although I did hear her mention she had family in the Balkans one time. I figured it was best not to talk about that.’

After a few more questions Deane thanked Ehrlich and told him he could go back to work. The supervisor nodded and left the room as quickly as he could.

Deane thanked McKenna and waited until the door was closed before turning to Karen Walters. ‘What’s been the fallout from Kleeman’s press grilling?’

Walters leaned down and took a copy of the New York Times from her briefcase. She dropped it on the table. The front page was framed in red marker ink.

‘It’s hit the front pages,’ she said grimly. ‘I didn’t bring the Washington Post or the foreign nationals — I didn’t want to depress you. But it’s headline news everywhere. Al Jazeera has been running special broadcasts all over the Middle East, and a number of Islamic countries have come out condemning the news and demanding a response by the UN, saying it points towards an anti-Islamic bias by UN troops and supporting member states.’

Deane pulled the Times towards him and stared at the headline.

REFUGEE GIRL RAPED AND MURDERED BY PEACEKEEPER — UN SPECIAL ENVOY PROMISES JUSTICE

UN Special Envoy Anton Kleeman yesterday gave substance to the rumors coming out of the country of Kosovo that a teenage girl was brutally raped and murdered by a UN ‘Trooper’ attached to the multinational KFOR peacekeeping force during 1999. So far the victim, possibly a homeless refugee, has not been identified, nor has the soldier. Special Envoy Kleeman, hotly tipped for the highest reaches of the peacekeeping and humanitarian organization, yesterday vowed before a press briefing that justice for the brutalized young girl would be swift. Speaking to a select press gathering before leaving on a brief visit to Beijing, Paris, and London for talks with other UN members, he would not be drawn on what this justice might entail, nor how it would be enforced.

Deane shook his head in disgust. ‘Brutally raped and murdered? Is there any other way? Jesus.’

‘You can’t blame the press,’ Walters said with cool indifference. ‘They react to what they’re told.’

‘Right. And he sure told them, didn’t he? Who the hell allowed Kleeman to do this?’

Walters bristled defensively. ‘I’m his aide, not his nanny. If he wants to set out on a crusade without telling me, there’s not much I can do to stop him. You want me to hit him over the head and haul him out of the room any time, give me the paperwork.’

Deane grinned nastily. ‘Don’t tempt me.’ He tapped the newspaper article. ‘This trip to Beijing and Europe. . how come you’re not along to hold his hand?’

‘He has other people for that: trained diplomat types who know how to behave in front of foreign devils. Don’t show the soles of the feet or talk about Chinese human rights abuses, don’t insult the euro, ignore the French or mention the war; work the cutlery from the outside in and if someone spits on their plate don’t stab ’em in the eye with your fish fork.’ She brushed a hair from across her face. ‘Frankly, I’m glad to be out of his way for a while.’

Harry caught her eye. ‘You don’t like him much?’

Her look was cool, as if unsure what lay behind the question. She shivered. ‘To be honest, he gives me the creeps. He’s like one of those Hollywood actor-types, all macho bullshit and Armani, but too good to be true.’

‘He’s gay?’ Deane looked stunned.

‘No, not that.’ She sighed. ‘It’s a woman thing: good-looking, rich, sophisticated guys affect us that way if they don’t have their hand up our skirts every five minutes.’

Deane said with a wry grin, ‘Now who’s being outrageous?’

‘Are you going to notify everyone in those files?’ Walters countered.

‘All the CP team, yes. That’s what Harry’s here for. We’ve tracked down everyone to a last known address, but we haven’t spoken to them directly yet. We figured it would be better done face to face.’ He tapped the table top. ‘We don’t want everyone to hear that there’s a killer on the loose looking to waste a whole bunch of UN military personnel.’

Walters looked at Harry as if for the first time, and he knew what she was thinking. ‘You were the team leader, I remember.’ She gave a faint smile. ‘You didn’t exactly hit it off with Kleeman, did you?’

Harry said nothing for a moment. He didn’t see the point in going over old news. But when Deane and McKenna looked at him, he realized that anything appearing to have been hidden now might look questionable later on.

‘He wanted us to mount a hot pursuit following an ambush by Serb snipers,’ he explained. ‘We were hit as we drove down a narrow defile in heavy rain at night. Kleeman suggested we hit them back, but that wasn’t our mission; we were there to protect him, not engage in a firefight. Going after Serb forces in those conditions was a no-hoper. I told him that. Then, when we reached the compound where we were to rest up for the night before being airlifted out, the convoy commander was ordered to Pristina to help protect refugees under attack. Kleeman wanted to go with them.’ He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t my job to provide him or anyone else with a photo opportunity, so we stayed put. He wasn’t impressed.’

Deane pulled a face. ‘That might explain why he was so quick to jump on the military. I hope the press doesn’t get hold of these names yet.’ He flicked idly through the papers. ‘When they do, every man on it will be labelled a potential rapist and murderer.’

Walters said, ‘Can you keep them secure?’

‘I wish I could. But they’re already out there. Whoever was using Demescu might not allow it to remain secret.’

‘That might work to our advantage,’ Harry suggested.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Having the media looking for the men as well might crowd him and scare him off. And if the guilty trooper is out there, he’s bound to be on his guard, too.’

There was a knock at the door.

Deane stood and spoke to a man outside. When he came back, he looked shocked.

‘There’s been another killing.’ He reached out and pulled one of the record sheets towards him, spun it round so they could all see it. ‘This time right here in New York.’