this scientist who meets with you and your friends is someone we’d like to meet also. Could you tell me more about where you meet?”
Abraham looked at Simmons and back at Paul. He took a deep breath. “Well, it’s the mosque in Burnsville, near the mall. There’s a community room that people meet in and, well, our group meets back there once a week. He is going to meet us tomorrow.” He was so thin, Paul worried that if the clothes draped around him were removed, Abraham would collapse.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. He’s really a nice guy. Me and my friends like hanging with him. He talks to us about lots of stuff about being Muslim.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, maybe you wouldn’t understand, but my parents work all the time. I never see them. Most of the kids at school, when they hear I’m Somali, they walk away. They don’t like us. And the American blacks don’t like us … so, it’s kind of lonely. Mr. Kamal was nice to us. We talked about things like that.”
“What were you going to do at your meeting?”
Abraham shrugged. “All my friends want to go, so I guess I want to go, too.”
As Paul took notes, Abraham gave him the directions to the mosque. Satisfied he’d gotten all the information he could from Abraham, he said, “I don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to go back.”
Abraham’s face twisted.
“I know you want to, and there may be times in the future you can but not this time, okay?”
Abraham’s eyes came up to meet Paul’s, but he didn’t agree.
Simmons broke in. “Abraham’s going to present his project at the Science Fair tomorrow night.” She turned to him and smiled.
“What’s that?” Paul asked.
“All the high schools in the area are having Science Day to promote math and the sciences. Hundreds of students participate, and it’s open to the public.”
Before Paul left the school, he pulled Gennifer Simmons aside. “Do you know his parents?”
“I’ve never met them. Most of the Somali parents work very hard and don’t have much time to come to school conferences. That’s why these kids are so lonely and cut-off. They’re desperate to fit in somehow. These families are close and loving but the parents have to work two or three jobs to support them. I’ll try to find Abraham’s.”
Paul gripped her arm. He looked at her. “Even if you have to take him home with you the next couple nights, you should do whatever you can to keep him away from the mosque. Trust me, it’s dangerous.”
Color flushed into her cheeks, and she took a sharp breath. “Okay.”
Paul left the school and drove toward the mosque. While he turned onto the freeway, his cell rang. It was Zehra Hassan. She was crying. “What’s up?” he said.
“Uh … my car … Paul … I can’t believe it …”
“What?”
“They blew up my car!”
Paul had difficulty concentrating on his driving. He’d been so busy he hadn’t heard about it. “Has the FBI been notified?”
“Yeah … everyone’s been here …”
“Zehra, I’m right in the middle of something big. Do whatever the agents tell you.”
“I have to keep going. The trial’s still starting in a few days. You know anything else? Paul, what the hell’s going on? I’m losing my mind.” Her voice cracked with hysteria. “I was doing ok, then just collapsed. Can’t help it, I’m scared.”
“Zehra, I don’t know any more than you do,” he lied to her. “I always thought this was a lot bigger than your client. And now we’ve got some leads.”
“What? What leads?”
Paul sighed and weighed the harm in telling her what he was doing. It didn’t seem to be connected with the defense of her client. He said, “We’re following up on a suspect, a Pied Piper, who’s getting some Somali boys together at a mosque in Burnsville real soon. We’re not sure why, but we’re breaking it down right now.”
“Good for you.” She paused. “Maybe this guy is the real killer, not El-Amin.”
He felt a rush of emotion flood into his body. How many times in the past had he longed to comfort her, to hold her? It hadn’t worked out for them, but the longing
still remained. He thrust the thoughts away. No time for that now.
“Don’t know if there’s any connection. Hey, Zehra, I’d like to talk more, but
I gotta run.” She agreed and hung up
Paul circled the block until he saw the small sign for the mosque. Like many Muslim groups in Minnesota, they didn’t have the money for a fancy mosque. This one occupied the end unit of a one-story row of offices. From his drive around the back side, Paul found several cars parked there.
He stopped in the front, made sure he had his badge out, checked the Glock under his arm, and stepped out of the car. A tall ash tree covered the corner of the building and leaned over the roof. Bright green leaves dotted the branches. Cardinals flitted from branch to branch as Paul approached.
When he got to the door, he knocked.
Paul rapped harder. He peered in through the dirty window in the door. Finally, a lone man shuffled toward the front. When he reached the door, he pulled it open slowly. He wore a tan skull cap, had a long black beard, and a full-length brown robe.
Paul lifted his badge and stuck it in the man’s face. “FBI. I’d like to talk to you.”
The man squinted at the badge as if near sighted. “What do you want?”
“Anyone in charge. I’m looking for a man named Mr. Kamal or Ammar, a scientist, who’ll have a group of boys here in a day or two.”
The man stretched himself to his full height. His black skin glistened in the sunlight. Without speaking, he gazed at Paul. Finally, he said, “I do not know anyone. He is not here. Goodbye.”
Before Paul could jam his foot into the open door, it slammed shut.
Paul realized he was breathing deeply. Frustrated, there was nothing more he could do at this point without a warrant. At least, the man’s actions confirmed what they all suspected. Mr. Kamal was going to bring the boys here in two days. Paul felt elated.
Back in his car, Paul called Conway. “Bill, I’m at the mosque in Burnsville. This is the hot spot. We’ll need a stake-out immediately, and we’ve got to move fast.”
“Great work, Paul. I want you back here right now.”
Something in Conway’s voice bothered Paul. “Huh? I told you, I’m out here and I’ll handle surveillance until the team arrives.”
“Get back here now.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve got a meeting starting in ten minutes. I got through to the Army Medical Research Institute. They’re meeting with us, along with ICE.”
“But … the mosque …”
Conway dropped his voice and spoke slowly. “Paul, we’ll get someone out there as soon as we can. In the meantime, you’re gonna want to be here …”
Thirty-Four
We haven’t got a lot of time,” Zehra reminded BJ while they sat in her office. “I’ve got a meeting with Harmon in ten minutes. Coming along?” I’m with you all the way, Z.”
When they walked outside her office, they crumpled under the oppressive blast of wind and humidity. An FBI agent assigned to Zehra followed a few steps behind them.
“Something’s wrong with this weather,” BJ said. “Storm must be coming.”
