The Samson Effect: A Novel, page 16
She arched her eyebrows and smiled with confidence. “You have no choice. I represent Ambassador Ben Hur, who, I might remind you, is underwriting your little search. I’m confident he’ll want me along.”
Thomas looked at Michael, silently pleading for help. Michael shook his head. “She’s right. Knowing my uncle like I do, I’m positive he’ll insist she go with us. He trusts her more than he trusts me, remember?”
Thomas blew out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, but I’m going on record to voice my disapproval in the strongest of terms.”
Hanna shrugged with a wry smile. “Duly noted.”
She and Thomas stared at each other until the tension between them grew uncomfortable. Michael pierced the atmosphere by changing the subject. “I need to speak with Thomas alone. Why don’t you girls go downstairs and grab something to drink.”
Neither woman looked particularly thrilled about being excluded from a conversation, but neither pushed the issue. Delia stepped next to Hanna. “Fine. We’ll just have our own conversation.”
Hanna took a step back and looked Delia up and down. The look of disgust on her face was unsettling to Thomas. “I can entertain myself while you two discuss what you need to discuss.” She turned to Thomas and morphed back to her beautiful, sweet self. “I need to make a phone call anyway. I’ll meet you in the lobby when you’re ready.” She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek, turned, and walked out of the room.
When Thomas turned to see Delia’s frozen, shocked expression, he knew he must be abnormally crimson. Michael was reddening too; but by his expression, Thomas knew it was from anger. Before either man spoke, Delia said, “It’s obvious how she feels about me.”
“I’m sorry.” Thomas said.
“Please, under the circumstances, it’s nothing to take to heart.” Her smile melted the tension away. “I have a long history to make up for.”
Michael stepped up to her and brushed her hair from her eyes. “You are truly amazing. It’s no wonder I love you so much.” He leaned in and kissed her. After a few moments, she pulled away. “I’ll be waiting with my tea.”
When she left, Thomas began to stutter through an apology, but Michael held up his hand to stop him. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, my friend.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “She’s right. It’ll take time for them to accept her, possibly just to tolerate her. I’m fortunate she’s as patient as she is.”
“You’re one lucky man, that’s for sure.” Thomas dropped into a chair. “So, what is it we need to discuss?”
“I didn’t want to ask you in front of Hanna, but when you were rushed into the hospital, you told me you think my uncle may be hiding something. What did you mean?”
Thomas ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, Michael. Something just doesn’t feel right about his relationship with Arnold Willingham. I mean, this man had more information about the Samson Effect than we have, and yet your uncle waited until now to bring us into the loop. And Willingham’s son had a photocopy of the parchment you and Caleb found. Tell me if I’m crazy, but it seems your uncle’s been dripping information about the Samson Effect to us as he sees fit.”
“I don’t know what to think. Why would my uncle, who wants us to find it as much as we do, withhold anything from us?”
“Look, I didn’t mean to impugn your uncle’s motives—”
“No, no. It’s obvious he’s aware of more than he wants us to know.” Michael stood and nodded to the door. “Let’s find the women. I have a gut feeling Hanna may be privy to more than she’ll offer to share. I say we keep our concerns to ourselves and not arouse suspicion. From now on, we’ll do some dripping of our own. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
As they were about to walk out the door, the phone rang. Thomas answered it. “Hello … You’re kidding? We’re on our way down.”
As soon as he hung up the phone, Michael asked, “Who was it?”
“Hanna. She just talked with your uncle. They have the pastor in custody along with the notebook. They’re waiting for us at his office.”
Fifteen minutes later, the four of them were sitting in Ambassador Ben Hur’s reception area. They had only been there a couple of minutes when the office door opened, and Ambassador Ben Hur appeared in the threshold. Behind him, Thomas saw a man with his hands cuffed behind his back sitting in a chair facing the mammoth mahogany desk. At least three men in suits stood erect.
“Michael, Thomas, you both look remarkably well. Come in. I think your quest is about to take a giant leap forward.”
The four walked to the door. Thomas followed Hanna in. He counted eight armed men standing on either side of the bound man. After a few more steps, Thomas confirmed the bound man’s identity as the younger Pastor Willingham. The man’s eyes were wild, darting around chaotically, terror emanating from his quivering body. He rocked back and forth, uttering repeatedly, “No, please, no.”
Thomas turned when he heard Michael’s firm resolve that Delia was going to enter. The ambassador had positioned his body between her and the door, resolving just as loudly that she was not entering his office. Two guards entered the reception area, obviously to enforce the ambassador’s wishes.
Thomas stepped to the ambassador and in a calm, even tone said, “Remember our agreement? If you want me to continue the search, she’s with us every step of the way.”
The ambassador stared incredulously at Thomas, who waited with raised eyebrows. He then looked at Michael, whose thick brows were definitely crinkled downward. With a slight move of his hand, he waved off the men in the reception room and grudgingly stepped aside for Delia to enter. Thomas shook his head and marveled at her composure during these public affronts against her.
With the conflict over Delia settled for the moment, the ambassador slipped behind the desk and eased into his chair. On the desk before him lay the manila envelope and blue spiral notebook that Thomas recognized as the items he had temporary custody of before he was arrested. His heart raced. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, grab the envelope, and search it to see what was important
enough to cause the death of a man.
“Mr. Willingham,” the ambassador said, “My patience is gone. I’m going to ask you one more time. What do you know of the items in this envelope?”
Tears streamed down the pastor’s cheek. “I told you, I don’t know what it is. The detective gave it to me after he interviewed that man.” The pastor nodded at Thomas. “Ask him. He brought it from my father’s apartment.”
“If that’s true, then why are you so upset? Makes me think you’re hiding something from me.”
“I’m not—”
“And why are you so adamant to return home with the envelope and notebook?”
The silence was heavy as everyone waited for the pastor to explain. He bowed his head and quietly gave in to the ambassador. “The men who killed my father were waiting for me and my family when we returned from the detective’s office. When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw someone climbing into the window at the back of the house. I turned the car around and fled. Almost immediately, I heard an explosion. I pray if I just give the men what they’re after, they’ll leave me and my family alone.”
Again, silence filled the office. The pastor’s eyes darted from person to person, pleading for someone to believe him. Thomas’s heart went out to him. He looked frightened. Coupled with the loss of his father and then the attempt on his family’s life, it was no wonder he was a nervous wreck.
The ambassador looked at the pastor and then to the others in the room. Hanna and Michael shrugged and raised their eyebrows. Thomas, however, replayed the pastor’s story in his mind while matching it against what he knew to be true. There was a piece missing, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
“Well, Pastor Willingham,” the ambassador said as he folded his hands upon his desk, “I’m going to allow you to leave, but I must insist on keeping the envelope and its contents with me.”
“No! You must allow me to take them. I told you—”
The ambassador stopped him by raising his hand. “I’m sorry, but this is a matter of national security.”
Delia whispered something to Michael, who immediately produced a pen and a business card from his pocket. She scribbled something on the back and handed it to Michael, who silently read it and handed it to Thomas.
“Please, sir, take a copy of the contents, but you must let me have the originals. My family will die if you don’t.”
“I’m sorry, but I cannot do that. I’ll arrange to have you and your wife protected for a few days or make arrangements for you to return to the United States if you’re so inclined.”
“He’s lying.”
All eyes turned to Thomas. “Who’s lying, Thomas?” the stunned ambassador asked.
“Pastor Willingham. Oh, I believe him about his run-in with the assassins and the burning of his house, but the only fear he has is he’ll miss a large payday by not being able to sell the envelope to Azim.”
Chapter 19
EVERYONE IN THE ambassador’s office was stunned at Thomas’s indictment of the pastor, especially Pastor Willingham, who, at the mention of Azim’s name, sat wide-eyed with his mouth gaping open. He recovered rather quickly, but not before convincing Thomas he was dead-on with his conclusion.
“I don’t know any Azim, and I’m certainly not trying to sell anything. My father died over this, for heaven’s sake. Everything I’ve told you is the God-honest truth.”
“Thomas, maybe you’d better explain yourself.”
“I’d be happy to, Ambassador. Everything the pastor said seems plausible, but something about his story just didn’t settle with me. I’d no idea what it was, and I was about to shrug it off when Delia wrote this.” He placed the back of the business card on the desk and slid it to the ambassador, who picked it up and read it.
The ambassador looked at Delia for a long moment and then back to Thomas. Hanna stepped forward and extended her hand. “What is it, Ambassador?” He handed her the card, which she read aloud: “I’ve seen this man meet with my brother on two occasions. I’m sure of it.”
Willingham jerked his head around and for the first time saw Delia standing in the back of the room. “You!” This time he didn’t attempt to recover from his incriminating expression.
“Before I fell unconscious at the pastor’s house, I saw a photocopy of the parchment your nephew found. The only way the pastor could have obtained it is if Azim had given it to him. Michael made no copy, and Azim has the original. Based on that and on Delia’s recollection, it’s obvious the pastor was dealing with Azim behind his father’s back, presumably to sell what his father had on the Samson Effect.” He stepped over to the pastor, who refused to look him in the eyes. “How much was Azim willing to pay for the notebook?”
“She’s mistaken. I’ve never seen her or her brother before.”
The ambassador addressed Delia for the first time since meeting her. “Are you positive this is the man?”
“I have no doubts whatsoever.”
“I don’t know why she’s saying this,” the pastor pleaded, “because I’ve never seen her before in my life. Please, you must believe me.”
The ambassador leaned back in his chair and brought his fingers to his lips. After a few moments, he called over one of his men. “James, put the word on the street that a pastor has come to us with written information about my nephew’s current work. Don’t give a name or nationality; just say it was a pastor.”
“What are you doing?” the pastor asked, fear flooding his eyes.
“Simple. If you’re telling the truth, then when Azim gets this message, you’ll have nothing to worry about. But if you’re lying, well, I’m sure you understand your predicament.”
Without pause, the pastor snapped out his response. “My family will take you up on your offer to leave for America immediately.”
Thomas felt the surge of victory rush through him. He felt, for the first time, that he was in control of his quest; and he wasn’t about to lose that edge. “Hold up, Ambassador.” He stepped in front of the pastor. “Mr. Willingham, before you go anywhere under Israeli protection, you’re going to answer a few questions.”
The ambassador smiled and nodded to an empty chair in the corner of the room. “Please, make yourself comfortable, Dr. Hamilton.”
Thomas positioned the chair so he was sitting directly across from Willingham. “Just three simple questions. First, how did you come across knowledge of the Samson Effect? Your father?”
“No, at least not directly. He just returned from a trip to Rome a few days ago. While he was gone, I found the notebook quite by accident.”
“Okay, then how did you manage to meet up with Azim?”
“I found the story of a magical weed turning people into Superman entertaining. I mentioned it to a few people, and we had a good laugh over it. Somehow, word got back to Azim, who sent someone to make an offer to me. He said he’d buy the notebook for fifty thousand dollars. By then Dad was back, so I had to wait for an opportunity to take the notebook.”
He turned to the ambassador with watery eyes. “Sir, you’ve known me for years. You know I loved my father, and I would never have gotten into this had I known it would cause his death. I just thought fifty thousand dollars would help me take better care of my family.”
“I knew your father, not you. When you lied to me, you spoiled any personal affection I may have had for you. It’s only because of my friendship with your father that I’m going to help you leave Israel.”
Delia inserted herself into the conversation. “If my brother ever believes you’ve betrayed him and takes it personally, there’s nowhere you can hide from him. You’re as good as dead.” The whole time she was talking to Willingham, her eyes were fixed upon Michael.
“I’m sorry, but she’s right,” the ambassador said. Willingham grew still and very pale. Thomas scooted his chair away from him, fearing the pastor was about to be sick to his stomach.
“What’s your last question, Thomas?” the ambassador asked.
Delia’s words still echoed in his ears. He felt a gut-wrenching pain, not for Willingham, but for Delia and Michael. He knew every day Azim lived could potentially be the last for his friends. He slowly blinked his eyes to help clear his mind. When he opened them, he saw Willingham was as pale as ever. “Last question: what else do you know about the substance that gives men great strength?”
“Nothing. I found nothing except the notebook, and my father never mentioned it to me.”
Thomas stood and picked up the envelope and looked in it. He pulled out the rabbi’s old notebook that Arnold Willingham had described to him. He flipped through it and slipped it back into the envelope with Willingham’s notebook. He then tucked the envelope under his arm. The ambassador leaned forward with a scowl. “What are you doing?”
“Michael and I have a few hours to read over this tonight. Tomorrow, I want the four of us, along with the protection you promised, on a helicopter heading for Hebron.” He looked at Michael and smiled. “We still have a couple of caves to search.”
* * * *
Thomas held a slice of New York-style pizza with both hands. “Pizza? We’re in the Middle East, and you ordered pizza?”
“But I like pizza,” Michael countered in defense of his meal choice.
An empty box sat on the foot of Michael’s bed while he, Thomas, and the two women finished off their last piece. A chorus of agreements from Hanna and Delia put the issue to rest. Neither woman had spoken a word to each other throughout the meal. Upon their simultaneous agreement about the pizza, they averted their gaze from each other and sat in silence.
Thomas tossed his unfinished crust into the box and rested his elbows on the table, looking from Hanna to Delia. When he looked at Michael, his friend rolled his eyes and shook his head. Thomas’s frustration over the friction between the two women had just reached his boiling point. He smacked his hand against the table’s surface, cracking the serene atmosphere.
“That’s it; enough is enough!” Everyone’s eyes swiftly locked onto him, and the chewing came to an abrupt halt. “Here’s the deal. Michael and I have work to do, and it’s going to take every bit of physical and mental strength we can muster. The last thing we need is for you two to continue with your catty, schoolgirl behavior toward each other.”
Both women’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets. They were about to respond when Thomas held out his hand. “I’m not through. Either you two decide right now to be civil to each other, at least in my presence—”
Michael interrupted with a weak voice and tentatively raised a hand. “Mine too.”
Thomas whipped his head toward Michael, unable to keep the fire from his eyes for being interrupted. Michael dropped his hand and lowered his head, deferring the floor back to Thomas. Thomas took a breath and continued. “Either you two find a way to get along, or Michael and I go to Hebron alone.”
Now the fire spread into both women’s eyes. Delia was the first to challenge Thomas. “You wouldn’t dare!” She whipped her head toward Michael. “Tell him!”
Thomas let out a sigh of relief when his friend answered. “I’m with him. Either you both go or you both stay. Your choice.” Michael shook his head and looked at each girl. “I don’t know why you’re making us go through this; you’re both big girls.”
Hanna folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t care what you say; I’m going. The ambassador won’t have it any other way. And, frankly, I’m appalled at your outburst and insinuations.”
“Trust me, the ambassador wants me to go far more than he wants you to go.” Thomas nodded toward Delia. “If I promised to leave Delia behind if he would order you to stay, how quickly do you think he’d take me up on my offer?”
For a moment there was a chilly silence in the room. Thomas finally decided to thaw the situation somewhat. In a sincere, soothing voice, he said, “Look, Michael and I truly want you to come; heck, we need you to come, but not if you’re going to constantly be at each other.” He picked up the envelope and motioned for Michael to follow. He opened the door and said, “Michael and I are going to my room to start going through this material. You two discuss what you’re going to do and then let us know.”
