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Authors: Peter B. Robinson

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BOOK: The TRIBUNAL
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    “Mr. Anderson,” Detective Weber said at the end of the questioning, “I have to ask this. You wouldn’t do something like this as a stunt to get some advantage in your trial, would you?”
    “Absolutely not. I would never put my wife or daughter through this.”
    “Will you give me our reports and those tapes?” Barnes asked.
    “Yes, I will.”
    “Can you get them now?” Barnes obviously didn’t want to take the chance of Kevin changing his mind.
    Kevin got up from his chair. He began having second thoughts. The way Barnes had asked for them right after Detective Weber had challenged him had made Kevin reply quickly to clear his name. But what about his obligation to Draga? If he gave up the materials, he would have no way of proving that Draga had been helping the CIA and no way of helping Draga enforce his agreement.
    As he went to retrieve the tapes and reports, Kevin hesitated. Why give the CIA the material if they could not help free Ellen? On the other hand, maybe the CIA had really kidnapped Ellen. If he gave them the reports, maybe they would release her, all the while denying that they had anything to do with her kidnapping.
    Kevin’s instincts told him to just give over all the tapes and reports. He needed to stop playing games. He would do everything he could to free Ellen. Draga’s interests were just going to have to come second.
    Kevin handed the reports and tapes to Barnes. “Please help my daughter.”
    Barnes reached for the materials, but Detective Weber quickly snatched them from Kevin’s hand. “These may be needed as evidence in our kidnapping investigation,” she said to Barnes. “We’ll hold onto them for awhile.”
    Barnes looked surprised, but said nothing.
    Kevin was surprised and delighted. Now, he had the best of all worlds. He had shown his good faith by freely giving up the materials, but they were in the hands of someone who would not deny their existence if they were needed for Draga’s case.
    “Do you have any other copies?” Barnes asked.
    “No, they’re all there.”
    “We’ll probably need to give you a lie detector test on that.”
    “Fine.”
    After Barnes had left, Kevin said, “I don’t know what to believe any more. I’m having a hard time with this.”
    “We’re back to square one,” Diane said, crushed. “Who would want to kidnap our daughter?”
    “Mr. Anderson, I’d like to have you take a lie detector test this morning,” Detective Weber said.
    Kevin said nothing, wondering if he was now the prime suspect. “The quicker we erase any suspicions on you, the better.”
    “Of course,” Kevin said. “I’m ready when you are.”
    “Let’s go down to the Wassenaar Police Station and take care of that right now”
    Kevin stood up and went to get his coat.
    Detective Weber told Diane that she would have to answer the phone when it rang. Diane paled, then looked at Kevin. “Hurry back,” she said.
    Kevin knew she didn’t want to be alone, and he felt terribly having to leave.
    He kissed Diane goodbye, and went out the front door, followed by Detective Weber and another officer. A row of people with cameras lined the path between his house and the street. Lights went on and cameras flashed as Kevin stepped outside.
    Reporters shouted questions in Dutch and English. Kevin didn’t respond, and Detective Weber led him straight to a police car parked in front. They got into the car and drove the six blocks to the Wassenaar Police Station. A procession of journalists followed in their own cars. More pictures were taken of Kevin going into the station.
    “Is he being charged?” one reporter shouted.
    “Is he being arrested?” asked another
    The cloud of suspicion that seemed to hover over Kevin made him nervous. He knew that polygraph tests were not considered reliable enough to be used as evidence in court, and were a subjective tool that depended greatly on the experience and skill of the examiner.
    Kevin sat down in a windowless room and listened as the middle-aged polygraph examiner explained the procedure for the test. The examiner seemed exact and cautious, two traits that Kevin appreciated. He carefully explained that after a series of innocuous questions to establish Kevin’s baseline readings, Kevin would be asked three relevant questions: Did he plan his daughter’s disappearance? Did he know who had his daughter? Did he, or anyone on his behalf, retain copies of the CIA reports or tapes?
    The examiner attached wires to Kevin’s chest, arms, and fingers that would measure his breathing, pulse, and perspiration. The wires ran to a machine with a pen that moved up and down like a seismograph measuring an earthquake.
    To fight his nervousness, Kevin kept silently repeating his mantra: “I have to help Ellen. I have to help Ellen…” He knew that if he remained a suspect, the police would divert valuable resources from the search for Ellen to an investigation of him. Things that should be done to try to find Ellen might not be done if they suspected Kevin.
    The examination lasted an hour. By the end, a ream of paper had spilled onto the floor from the machine. When the examiner removed the wires from him, Kevin looked for some hint of how he had done. The examiner gave no clue. Kevin was exhausted, and anxious to get back home. He wondered if the kidnappers had called.
    The examiner excused himself and took the papers with him as he left the room. Was it a bad sign that he had not told Kevin the results? Kevin was too tired to think it through. He felt like he was running on fumes.
    After what seemed like another hour but was probably only fifteen minutes, the examiner returned to the room with Detective Weber. The examiner sat down across from Kevin and looked him directly in the eye. “You’re telling the truth.”
    Kevin’s eyes teared up; he couldn’t help himself, the pent-up tension just poured out. In a few minutes, he went into the bathroom and washed his face. He looked like hell. His eyes were bloodshot. He felt unsteady; a touch dizzy. He knew he needed sleep.
    When he got home, Kevin hugged Diane. “I passed their test,” he said.
    “What took you so long?” Diane had never doubted Kevin would pass.
    Kevin took her hand. “I have to get some sleep. I can’t think straight any more.”
    Diane had been drinking coffee. “I can’t sleep while Ellen is out there. I’ll wait by the phone, you go up to sleep.”
    Kevin trudged up to the second floor. He felt like he had just been hit by a truck. His head ached. His body was stiff. He took off his clothes, got under the covers, and closed his eyes. He was asleep in seconds.
    When he awoke, it was 11 p.m. Diane was asleep beside him. Kevin felt rested, and anxious to hear any news. He got dressed, washed his face, and went downstairs. A young police officer was sitting in the living room near the phone, reading a book.
    “Any news?”
    “Nothing, sir, I’m sorry.”
    Kevin went back upstairs, not knowing what to do next. He had slept for about eight hours and knew that he could not go back to sleep. He looked at the stairs to Ellen’s level, but he didn’t think he could face going up to her room and seeing her things. He went into the bathroom, and took a shower.
    After his shower, Kevin returned downstairs. He made sandwiches for himself and the officer. Now his body was all screwed up, he thought, sleeping during the day and being wide awake in the middle of the night. He and the officer sat at the dining room table, eating sandwiches and chips, and making small talk.
    Kevin looked at the clock in the living room. It was 1:15 a.m. It was going to be a long night.
    Then, the phone rang.
    Kevin jumped to answer the phone.
    The officer moved swiftly to the tape player, switched it on, and put on the headset. Kevin hovered over the phone, waiting for the signal to pick it up.
    “Hello.” He didn’t think some reporter would call at this hour.
    “We have your daughter,” a man’s voice said. The voice was deep, the words spoken slowly.
    Kevin’s brain was frozen for an instant.
    “There is only one way you will see her again.”
    “How? I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt my daughter.”
    “Your daughter will be killed unless Draga is released. You must win his case and you will have your daughter back. Otherwise, you will never see her again.”
    The phone line went dead.
    
CHAPTER 21
    
    When Ellen awoke on Sunday morning, she got out of bed hoping it would be her last day on the farm. She got dressed and knocked on her door.
    Anna soon came and opened it.
    “Do I get to go home today?” Ellen asked hopefully.
    “Not today.”
    “I have to be back for school tomorrow.”
    “I don’t think you’re going to make it.”
    “Why? Does my dad have to pay some money to get me back?”
    “I don’t know. I’m just hired to take care of you while you’re here.”
    “I want to go home.”
    Ellen ran into the bathroom and slammed the door.
    When she came out of the bathroom, she ate her cereal in silence at the kitchen table. “I guess I’ll do my homework,” she told Anna when she finished eating. “Otherwise, I’ll be way behind when I get back.” She went into her room and returned with her backpack. Soon, her books and papers were spread out all over the kitchen table and Ellen was diligently working through her assignments.
    “You know it’s against the law to keep a kid out of school,” Ellen complained.
    “We don’t want to break the law,” Anna replied facetiously.
    “Good. Tomorrow you can be the teacher and I will be the student and we’ll have school right here.”
    “I don’t know how to teach school.”
    “It’s easy. You just teach me from the textbook, and then assign me a bunch of homework. I have all my books. I’ll help you prepare a lesson plan if you want.”
    “We’ll see. I’m not being paid a teacher’s wage.”
    “Who’s your boss?” Ellen asked. “Is it Hans or Jan?”
    “That’s none of your business, young lady.”
    “Does this have something to do with my dad’s trial?” Ellen asked.
    “You sure ask a lot of questions. Now, get back to your school work.”
    Ellen spent the next hour studying. Anna tried to read a book, but Ellen kept asking questions. “What’s eight times twelve? How do you spell ‘manufacture’?”
    When she had finished, Ellen packed up her backpack and brought her books into the living room. “This will be our school.” She took out a piece of paper and wrote, “Anna’s schoolhouse.” She taped it to the door.
    “What are we going to do today?” Ellen asked.
    “Today’s Sunday. We rest.”
    “I don’t want to rest, I’m bored. Can we bake bread? My mommy showed me how to do it.”
    “No, but we can feed the chickens. They need to eat every day. And the cows need to be milked.”
    Ellen made a face. “Can you do the squeezing part and I hold the bucket?”
    Anna didn’t respond. She and Ellen got their coats on and went out to the barn. Anna grabbed the feed bucket and carried it outside. The chickens and roosters scrambled over to meet them. Ellen reached into the bucket, and spread the feed around.
    They were just finishing up when Ellen spotted a small brown and white dog sniffing around the barn. Ellen walked slowly toward the dog. When she was close enough, she knelt down and petted it. The dog licked her fingers.
    “You’re just a puppy. Where did you come from?” Ellen lifted the dog into her lap. “You don’t have a collar.” The brown and white puppy curled up inside Ellen’s lap as Ellen stroked its back. “Where’s your family? I’m missing my family too.”
    The puppy hopped out of Ellen’s lap and played in the grass. When Ellen stood up, it got on its hind legs as if to imitate her, only to fall forward and try again. “Silly puppy, dogs can’t stand on two legs.” Ellen scooped up the dog and walked over to Anna. “Whose dog is this?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.”
    Ellen ran over with the puppy to Hans and Jan. “I found this puppy. Do you guys know who it belongs to?”
    The men shrugged.
    “Can I keep it? Please!”
    There was no reply.
    “Thank you so much,” Ellen blurted out, “I’ve always wanted a dog. He’s so cute. Wait ’til my mom and dad see this!”
    Ellen put the puppy down gently on the ground. It started sniffing everything. “Come on,” she said to her new friend, “we’ve got to make you a little home.”
    “Is it a boy or a girl?” she asked Anna.
    “A girl.”
    “Great. I don’t like boys. No offense.”
    Anna’s face broke into a wan smile.
    “Girls rule!” Ellen proclaimed, giving Anna the thumbs up sign.
    “I’ve got to think of a name,” Ellen said. She picked up the puppy and studied its face. “I’ve got it!” I’m going to name her Johanna. J for Jan, H-A-N for Hans, and A-N-N-A for Anna.”
    Ellen ran after the puppy. “Johanna, come here!”
    
    At the Anderson home, Kevin and Diane waited for news from the police. The call from the kidnappers had been brief, and Kevin knew the prospects for tracing it were poor. By late morning, Detective Weber arrived and told them that all they could determine was that the call had been made from a cellular phone somewhere in Holland.
    They played and replayed the tape of the conversation. Kevin wished he had gotten the man to talk longer. The caller had a slight accent, but his English had been good. Given the fact that he had demanded Draga’s release, Kevin was surprised that the caller did not have a Slavic accent. While he was still unwilling to completely rule out the CIA, Kevin knew that the goal of the kidnapers meant a wider field of suspects.
BOOK: The TRIBUNAL
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