The Tribunal

CHAPTER 30

On the way home from the Tribunal, Kevin tried to talk to Diane, but she remained sullen and silent. He explained again why he had decided not to use the evidence of Draga’s long-time cooperation with the CIA. Diane seemed unmoved.

Once home, Diane went up to their bedroom and shut the door. Kevin fixed some dinner for both of them, but Diane refused to come down to join him. Kevin sat in the dining room, eating by himself. It was 6:30, and he had a closing argument to give tomorrow. Why couldn’t Diane have waited for one more day to vent her anger at him?

Kevin tried to work on his closing argument, but he knew that he would not be able to concentrate until he had resolved things with Diane. He went up to their bedroom. Diane was lying on the bed. She didn’t move when he opened the door.

Kevin went over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

Diane did not respond. She was lying on her stomach, her face pressed against the pillow.

“Come on, we have to face this together. Right now, we both need to do everything we can to get Ellen back. Hate me when it’s all over.”

Diane rolled onto her side, turning her back to Kevin. “There’s no point talking to you. You just go do whatever you please anyway, no matter what I say.”

“That’s not true. I do listen to you. I do respect your opinion.”

Diane turned around and glared at Kevin. “You always think you’re right, but Ellen and I have to pay for your mistakes. I’m tired of being a spectator while you play games with our lives.”

Kevin took a deep breath. “Look, I’m convinced I did the right thing today. We have a real good chance of winning this trial. We showed today that the people they spent the last month prosecuting had nothing to do with Draga.”

“Kevin, you are so damned blind. I’ve seen how those judges act. They’re going to find some way to find your client guilty. And Ellen is still out there, her whole life riding on this stupid trial. I just hate it.”

“Maybe the police will find Ellen. They had hundreds of volunteers out there looking for her today. They have a suspect, and a license number.”

“We would have had a call by now if they found her. They’ve had almost a month to find her. This is so discouraging.”

“Will you help me with my closing argument?”

“No,” Diane shot back. “You don’t listen to me anyway. Why don’t you get your buddy Draga to help you? You obviously value his life more than your daughter’s.”

Kevin winced. “That hurt.” He waited for an apology, but none was forthcoming. “I guess I’ll get to work.” He got up from the bed. “I’m going to prove you wrong about the verdict.”

“I hope you do. For Ellen’s sake.”

Kevin trudged down to the dining room and began spreading out his notes. He remembered wistfully the evenings when it was Ellen who had her work spread out all over this same table. How he sorely missed her.

He was trying hard to focus on his closing argument when the phone rang at about 9 p.m. He let Diane answer it upstairs, trying to back off from being the boss of everything.

After about ten minutes, Diane came downstairs. “That was Detective Weber.”

Kevin sprang from his seat at the table.

“They found the farmhouse where Ellen was being held, but they missed Ellen and the kidnappers by about five minutes.”

Diane came over and sat down. She had been crying.

“A girl from the American School saw Ellen peeking out from behind some curtains,” she went on. “The police arrested one of the kidnappers. The one whose fingerprints they have – Johan somebody.”

Kevin had a million questions. “Where do they think Ellen is now?”

“They don’t know. Johan told them that the other guy and the woman were driving a blue van. Detective Weber’s got everybody in Holland looking for a blue van and the two kidnappers.”

“How did they treat Ellen? What was the farmhouse like?” The questions gushed out of Kevin.

“I guess they treated her okay. A bunch of her drawings were pasted up around the house.”

“What else did Detective Weber say?”

“The Johan guy said that they were hired by some people from Serbia to do this. He claims that his partner had made the contacts with the Serbs. He says he doesn’t know who they are.”

“Who’s his partner?”

“I wrote down the name. It’s Pieter van Dale. And the woman is Christina Trent. They’re all connected with some Dutch left-wing political group.”

“Do they have any other leads on finding Ellen now?”

Diane shrugged. “I don’t know. She said that they expect that the guy, Golic, will contact the kidnappers after he flies in tomorrow morning. They’ll be following Golic and they’re hoping he’ll lead them to Ellen.”

“Damn! We almost had her back tonight.”

Diane didn’t reply.

“At least we know she’s alive and has been treated reasonably well,” he said.

“Maybe they’ll harm her now that they’re desperate and on the run.” Diane said, starting to sob.

Kevin walked over to comfort her, but Diane got up from her chair and went upstairs. He went back to the dining room table. There was no way he could concentrate on his closing argument now.

He went up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Diane was back on the bed.

“I want to see the farmhouse,” he said. “I want to see Ellen’s drawings. Do you want to come with me?”

Diane looked up. “Yes. I was thinking the same thing.”

Diane got dressed while Kevin called Detective Weber. She gave Kevin directions and said she would alert the officers at the farmhouse to let Kevin and Diane look around. She asked Kevin not to touch anything.

“Anything else new?”

“I think tomorrow will be critical,” the detective said. “If we follow Golic, he should lead us to Ellen. We also have the number of van Dale’s cell phone. I’m getting a court order to listen on that phone.”

“Thank you so much for everything.”

Kevin and Diane drove out to Utrecht in the darkness. Kevin tried to keep the topic on finding Ellen, although he couldn’t resist saying that he was glad Detective Weber would be spending her time tomorrow looking for Ellen instead of testifying about the CIA evidence. Diane had softened a bit; she was at least speaking to Kevin. But the sub-freezing temperatures were not the only chill in the Anderson’s car as they drove east toward what had been their daughter’s home for almost a month.

When they went inside the farmhouse and saw Ellen’s drawings, Kevin and Diane were both moved to tears. There was something about seeing these creations of their daughter that made her seem so much closer at that moment. They wandered around the house three times, each time seeing something new. When they had finally seen everything, they thanked the officers and drove off.

Diane slept most of the way home. It was almost 1:00 a.m. when they pulled up to their row house in Wassenaar.

Kevin was still too wired to sleep. He had a closing argument to give in a few hours in the most important case of his life. He went up to his office and began banging it out on his computer. When he was done, it was almost 5 a.m. There was no point in sleeping.

Kevin got on the Internet and checked the coverage of Draga’s trial. He saw the Reuter’s News Service headline first: “War Crimes Suspect Puts Up No Defense.” He read the story, which had apparently been put on the wires from a story written by Toma Lanko for the Bosnia News Service. The story revealed that for the first time in the history of the War Crimes Tribunal, an accused had called no witnesses in his defense.

Kevin found Lanko’s original story. Lanko made no mention of Bradford Stone or of Kevin’s cross-examination of Chief Investigator Jacobson. Instead, he quoted unnamed sources in Serbia decrying the Tribunal’s appointment of an American prosecutor to represent Draga. He also quoted the Registrar of the Tribunal as saying that it was the first time in the history of the Tribunal that no defense had been offered for an accused. He noted that thousands of dollars of public money had been disbursed to Draga’s defense team for experts and investigators, and promised to look into how that money was spent.

Kevin groaned at the slanted and inaccurate coverage of the trial. This would just confirm the Serbs’ suspicions of him. All he could do was pray that Ellen would be found today, or that the kidnappers would at least wait to hear the verdict.

Kevin went on his regular run at 6:00 a.m. He tried to put everything out of his mind except his closing argument. He went over the argument in his mind as he ran under the streetlights on another cold and wet morning. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that he was going to win Draga’s trial.

Kevin didn’t even notice the runner who came up from behind him until the man was running alongside. When he looked over, Kevin saw Pete Barnes. “Thought I might find you here,” Barnes said.

“Guess I’m predictable.” Kevin said.

“You may be the least predictable guy I know,” said Barnes, chuckling.

“I know this isn’t a coincidence. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to thank you, Kevin. Most lawyers would have used those reports and the tapes. They would have rationalized away their client’s best interests in a thousand different ways to make it coincide with their own. But you stood tall, Kevin. I’ll always have great respect for you for that.”

“Thanks. I owe you an apology for accusing you of kidnapping my daughter.”

“Hell, I would have thought the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

“Well, I hope things turn out. They found the farmhouse where Ellen was kept last night.”

“I know. Last night after I heard that you weren’t going to name us in court, I mobilized our people. You wouldn’t believe what is going on as we speak. We’ve got people at CIA Headquarters in Virginia listening to conversations and reading faxes from Serbia. We’ve got so much coverage this morning that we know when someone turns a light bulb on anywhere in that damn country. Your daughter will be found, I know it.”

“I’m going to win this trial. One way or the other, I hope we get Ellen back soon.”

“Give ’em hell today. We’ll get Draga out of those charges in the other countries if you win.”

“I was hoping you would.”

When they reached Kevin’s street, Barnes waved as Kevin turned left toward his house.

Kevin was pumped up as he ran up the stairs to his bedroom. He hadn’t slept, but his adrenaline was racing and good news seemed to be right around the corner.

Diane was getting dressed when Kevin arrived. She was still subdued when Kevin greeted her and gave her a kiss. Kevin determined to ignore their problems for the rest of the day and do his part at helping win Ellen’s release.

Kevin made small talk with Diane as they drove to the Tribunal. When they walked into the courtroom, he saw that a handful of people were in the visitors’ gallery. Most of them appeared to be court and prosecution employees. It reminded him who was still the home team.

After the judges entered, Charles Oswald rose to give his closing argument. “Your Honors,” Oswald began, “this is a case about murder, torture, and rape. It is not a case about prosecutorial misconduct. Please do not be distracted by the unfortunate events involving Mr. Stone. The bottom line is that despite too many regrettable incidents, this court has given the accused a fair trial, represented by able counsel.”

All three judges listened intently as Oswald summarized the testimony of each victim who had testified. His paralegal flashed pictures of the victims on the courtroom screens as Oswald described their suffering. Oswald talked for an hour and a half, and did not once mention Draga.

Kevin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Oswald was making a powerful argument, but what did it have to do with Draga? As if reading Kevin’s mind, Oswald asked, “What is the responsibility of the accused for all of these atrocities?”

He then had his paralegal play a portion of the tape where Draga told Ed Bradley of “60 Minutes” that the Muslims should be forced to leave Bosnia and live in Turkey or some other country. “Bosnia is and always has been part of Greater Serbia,” Draga was heard telling Bradley. “And if they won’t leave on their own, we’ll give them a choice. They can leave on a bus or in a box.”

Kevin tried not to grimace.

Oswald played a few other excerpts, and then got to his punch line. “The evidence has shown that the accused fed the climate of fear and terror that led directly to these events in Bosnia. Just as a person who brews the poison cannot escape responsibility by claiming that someone else administered it, the accused cannot escape responsibility in this case for the horrible acts of inhumanity that he promised the world he would bring to Bosnia.”

A feeling of nervousness swept over Kevin. Are the judges buying this crap? he wondered. They sure looked attentive while Oswald spoke. Oswald had done what prosecutors do when they have little hard evidence against the accused. He had focused on the victims and the heinous nature of the crimes, and glossed over who was responsible. Kevin had to make the judges see through that.

The court recessed for lunch before hearing Kevin’s closing argument. Kevin remained in the courtroom. He smiled as he saw Allen Jacobson take his laptop with him as he left.

After going through his argument a final time, Kevin went down to the basement holding cell to talk to Draga. He told him the latest news about Ellen and the farmhouse.

“They’re going to find her,” Draga predicted. “You’ll get a call any minute.”

“I hope so,” Kevin paced around the small room, more nervous than he wished to admit.

“Kevin, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and my family. No matter what happens. You’re the best damn lawyer I’ve ever seen. But more than that, you’ve been my friend. And I’ll never forget that.”

Kevin was touched. “You’ve been a great client and friend, too,” he said, meaning every word. “I’m going to go out there this afternoon and win your case so you can reunite with your family. Then, I’m going to see my daughter again. Then, the Giants are going to squash the Ravens on Sunday. And then I’ll call it a week.”

The two men laughed.

Kevin returned to the courtroom to try to win his case – and Ellen’s freedom.

A hundred miles away, an oversized, muscular man looked out the window of the train as it passed through the emerald green Dutch countryside.

Mihajlo Golic was on his way to Amsterdam. He had decided to travel by train, rather than fly into Schipol Airport. He didn’t want to have to worry about getting his Beretta pistol through the metal detectors.

He had heard the news about Draga’s trial. The American lawyer was a fraud after all. Imagine putting up no defense. It was an insult to the Serbian people. He took no joy in what he would do to the girl, but the lawyer had been warned. Now he would get what had been promised.

Golic walked into the bathroom and pulled out his cellular phone. He dialed the number for the man he knew as “Hans.”

“Hello,” Hans answered on the first ring.

“I’ll be in Amsterdam in three hours time,” Golic said in English. It was the only common language between them. “I’m on the train.”

“We’ve had a problem,” Hans said. He explained the events of the previous evening. “We’re in a hotel in Amsterdam.”

“I’d better pick up the girl this afternoon. It’s getting too dangerous to hold her any longer.”

“What about the trial?”

“The trial’s a joke. The American didn’t even put up a defense. The judges will be deciding the case by tomorrow. And there’s no doubt what that decision will be.”

“Call me when you get near Amsterdam. We’ll arrange the transfer.”

“I’ll do that.” Golic clicked off the phone and returned to his seat.

At the Wassenaar Police Station, Detective Weber also returned to her seat, after removing her headphones connected to the telephone monitoring device. “Get everybody from the airport over to Amsterdam Central Station,” she barked over her walkie-talkie. “He’s not flying – he’s on the train!”

The detective shifted her large frame and rechecked the 9 mm automatic revolver in her purse. She was a dead-eye shot, and today, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

She looked at the picture of Mihajlo Golic taped to the wall in front of her. “Be a good boy,” she coaxed. “Come to Mama.”