“Oh, no! Earlier that day I burned parts of it but kept the important stuff.”
“Why did you have to burn it?” I asked. I had a suspicion, but I wanted Ariel to tell me first.
“At the end of his letter my father told me to burn it, but I was afraid that if I burned it completely I'd forget the things he wanted me to do.”
“What was in the letter?”
“The letter described my father's contacts with Guttmacher and the Iranians. There were lists of materials and equipment that the Iranians wanted to buy with names of suppliers and other technical information.”
I hoped that the blood rushing to my face didn't show. “Do you still have that list?”
“Yes,” she nodded, “I copied part of it.”
“Where is it? Can I see it?”
“I have it in my luggage. It's just a list of compounds and such details. I did not copy the supplier names and all other details. I left what's left of the original with all the details in Munich.”
I needed to reassure her that she had done the right thing before I ventured further in asking her to get the lists.
“You took a great risk by moving around with the list.”
“Not really,” she smiled. “Don't forget that I have the perfect explanations for that if I'm ever asked. I'm a nuclear scientist, a doctoral candidate, and my scientific articles were published in several professional magazines. I'm on my way to meet scientists in Moscow.”
This information was so important I wanted Ariel to continue without interruption, but she was waiting for my questions.
“Did your father describe his relationship with the Iranians? It's a pretty surprising alliance, I must admit.”
I'd hit a raw nerve.
“The answer is so obvious that I'm surprised you're even asking. He wasn't about to trade with them. Not ever. He was after two things: his freedom and their money. You don't think that with his background he'd do anything to help the Iranians and hurt Israel. Never. He was planning to get their money and then extricate himself from his troubles with the American government by giving them a complete file on the Iranians.”
I listened, mildly stunned. Ariel had just repeated Benny's account. DeLouise was trying to kill two birds with one stone. Although he was about to make a bundle off the Iranians, he hoped to rid himself of his problems by bringing this extremely valuable information to the CIA. Then the path to any deal he could make with the regulatory banking agencies would be smoothed by the compliments showered on him by everyone from the White House down.
“So your father had actually prepared a file?”
“Yes,” said Ariel, and I sensed that she was proud that he had.
“Where is it?” I asked, trying to contain my excitement. I hoped she wouldn't notice my eagerness. “In Munich,” said Ariel, apparently missing my reaction to the revelation. “I couldn't take it with me to Moscow.”
“Is it safe there?” I asked, hoping she'd tell me where it was.
“Yes. It's safe,” she said. “Well, I hope so,” she added.
“Is it bulky? I guess it contains many documents.”
“Well, there are bank records, contracts, even a few documents in Farsi.”
“So the file came with your father's letter?”
“Yes. Everything in one big envelope.”
DeLouise must have sensed what might be coming, so he'd left a trail. I silently thanked him for that.
“You still haven't told me all the details about why you came to Moscow,” I pressed.
Ariel paused a moment and squared her shoulders. “I felt I had to complete my father's job and get back at the Iranians who killed him. I wanted to expose their plans and their Soviet cohorts. The Iranian fanatics should not be allowed to get an atom bomb. As a scientist I know the devastating consequences the device could bring, and as a citizen of Israel I fear for my country. The Iranians have threatened Israel repeatedly and promised destruction of Israel. They should not be allowed to have the means to carry out their plan.”
“Why do you think the Iranians killed him? Do you have any proof?” I wondered whether Ariel knew something I didn't.
“If they didn't, then who did?” she retorted.
“There could be any number of bad guys. The Colombians, for example. Aren't they the people who kidnapped you?” It seemed clear, in the end, that Ariel knew nothing about her father's murder.
“I thought of that,” said Ariel, “but they killed my father in the street. If they wanted any documents from him, they'd have kidnapped him like they did me. Besides, the Colombians weren't necessarily working for the cartel; they could have been working for the Iranians.”
“Well,” I said, “criminals act under different logic than yours or mine. Everything is possible.” She had a point though, I conceded.
“Anyway, I was convinced that that was what my father had wanted me to do by leaving me the file and the letter with the materials lists. So I decided to go to Moscow to try to meet with his contacts; they could tell me about the sale of the nuclear materials to the Iranians. Nuclear materials are familiar territory for me.”
“So what did you do?”
“There was one name, Igor Zurbayev, with a Moscow address and a telephone number in the file that my father left me. I called him and arranged to meet him in Moscow.”
“For what purpose? Were you going to buy the nuclear materials and give them to the Iranians?” I said in disbelief. “The whole thing doesn't make sense to me.” I was beginning to tire a bit. It was all crazy and stupid. There must be a different agenda here – Ariel could not be that irresponsible.
Ariel looked at me and saw my expression. “I know I was foolish,” she said. “I stood to gain nothing, but I was so angry I wanted to take just another step, complete the information in the file and then expose the Iranian nuclear efforts as well as the Soviets who were helping them. I would give it to the media or the Mossad. I haven't made up my mind yet. Now that my father is gone and there is no need to strike a deal with the Americans, I could still give the file to the Mossad. Israel would know what to do with it.”
I wanted to put a lid on that. I'd heard enough and didn't want to sound too critical, so I moved on.
“You made travel arrangements through Oplatka Travel. Why did you choose them?”
“You know everything,” said Ariel smiling. “I found their receipt in the file my father had left me.”
“So did you meet Igor Zurbayev in Moscow?”
“I called him several times, but as much as I could understand from the woman who answered his phone in Russian, he was away. I gave her my name, but I'm not sure she understood much of what I said. So I met my scientists for one day and then just toured Moscow waiting to be contacted. Finally, I was able to speak to someone at that number who spoke a little English and I repeated my message to Igor. Today someone made contact with me while I was out on a tour, but I haven't met Igor yet.”
“How did they know where to find you?”
“They called at the hotel yesterday and asked me to take the tour today. So I did.”
Now I was getting nervous. Ariel was dipping her unprotected hand into a snake pit. It was only a question of time before she would be bitten. What she was doing was amateurish and dangerous. Any number of groups could be behind Igor: rogue Soviet scientists or members of the military. It could also be entrapment by the KGB trying to apprehend the culprits. Whichever group Igor belonged to, Ariel did not belong with him, particularly when her story was so illogical that it made me suspicious.
“By the way, did you mention to Guttmacher the file your father gave you or the second letter?”
“No. Just the first letter, why do you ask?”
“So Guttmacher didn't know you were going to Moscow to continue with your father's project?”
“I did tell him, and said I'd be at the Cosmos Hotel and that I'd be in contact with him when I returned.”
I had heard enough to realize that danger was no longer just a possibility, it was imminent.
“You're in over your head now,” I said decisively. “You must leave Moscow immediately. I'll come with you. Now! On the first flight out.”
“You're frightening me. What do you know that I don't?”
“Lots. I'm going to my room to pack my stuff, please stay here.”
I ran to my room and opened the door. Everything looked intact.
