Faye Kellerman - Sanctuary

“Then how does the organization exist?” Marge said.

“As a matter of fact, Arafat was very, very weak until Israel gave him and the PLO power by giving them Gaza and bringing them into the peace talks. If Arafat ever gets a real government-and it looks like that’s a strong possibility-the PLO has been pledged hundreds of millions of dollars by the United States and Europe to get the Palestinian economy off to a rip-roaring start. Even if half that money comes through, Arafat will have plenty of investment capital.”

Again no one spoke.

Finally Decker whispered, “Milligan saw it all coming. She’s been cultivating the PLO for several years. Now that everything is almost in place, she’s making her move.”

Rina said, “What move?”

Decker said, “First, Milligan buys out undercapitalized land with potential for diamond fields. Then she cultivates the PLO, betting that eventually they’ll get a government and lots of start-up capital for its economy from the Western countries. Now that Israel and the PLO have struck some kind of deal, she knows she’s in like Flynn. She’s just waiting for someone to sign on the dotted line, so she can tap into those pledges.”

“If the peace process lasts.”

“Rina, it only has to last long enough for her to raid the initial investment capital pledged by the Western nations. Because the woman knows her Western civilization. Remember her bookcase behind her desk, Marge?”

“Not really.”

“I do,” Decker said. “Because I thought her choice of books was rather eclectic. She had a row of books that dealt with the economies of postwar Japan and Germany. Meaning, she knew from history how the United States and the Allies poured billions of dollars back into those countries to set them on their feet. They not only throve, they became world economic powers.”

“I don’t see the PLO becoming a world economic power,” Rina said.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Decker said. “All Milligan cares about is the money that’s going to start flowing in. The newly formed territory or country or whatever the hell you want to call it is going to have to set up some businesses if it’s going to thrive economically. Why not diamonds, offers Milligan.”

“But why would the Arabs use her as a middleman?” Marge asked. “Why wouldn’t they invest in the land directly?”

“In fact, that’s just what they’re doing,” Decker said. “They are investing in the same companies that Milligan is investing in. But this time, Milligan knows they’re not going to sit on the land like VerHauten’s doing. They’re going to try to develop it, paying her for her expertise. So she wins two ways. One, she gets paid as an expert. And two, if they strike it rich, so does she.”

Marge said, “She has everything to gain and nothing to lose. All she had to do was make her pitch and apparently it worked. Because the Arabs are buying.”

Decker said, “What do you think, Rina?”

There was a long moment of silence.

Exasperated, Decker finally said, “What’s the problem?”

“I don’t know. Something’s off.”

“What is off?”

“If Milligan’s interested only in start-up capital from the PLO, why was she dealing with two local Arabs from Hebron instead of someone high up in the PLO. And who is Donald?”

“Donald?” Marge asked.

“The Hebron Arabs Milligan met with-in secret-claimed they were working for a man named Donald,” Rina explained. “Milligan claimed Donald was working for her.”

“Who’s Donald?” Marge asked.

“No idea,” Decker said.

Rina said, “To my untrained eye, it seemed like Milligan and those men were planning something clandestine. Besides, I just don’t see the PLO giving something away for nothing.”

“They’re not giving away something for nothing,” Decker said. “They’re investing in Milligan’s know-how.”

“But Milligan is still setting herself up as queen without giving them something tangible.”

“She’s giving them something tangible. She’s giving the Palestinians, headed by the PLO, the potential to be big diamond producers.”

“Potential is not a commodity,” Rina said. “Besides, you’re thinking like a Westerner, Peter.”

“How so?” Marge asked.

“Most of the Arabs in the territories are dirt poor. Sure, they’d love to be rich. But they’ve never had capital so they don’t even know what wealth is. Their prime motivator is revenge, not money.”

“Revenge…” Decker thought a moment. “Then suppose Milligan presented the deal not only as an economic boon for the Palestinian government but also as a way to strike out at Israel.”

“The PLO would go for that,” Rina said. “What do you have in mind?”

“She could present the deal like this. If the PLO invested with her, they would control vast amounts of raw diamonds. With that, they could undermine Israel’s economy by going into direct competition with the Israeli diamond industry and the Israeli cutters.”

“So who would cut their stones?” Rina said. “With the Israelis out, there go the best cutters in the world. And VerHauten wouldn’t dare deal with the upstarts.”

“They could develop their own cutters,” Marge said. “A good industry for a fledgling country.”

“A skill like that takes ages to learn,” Rina said. “And even if they did, the stones would be second-rate. The brilliance of a diamond is as much in the cutting as it is in the raw stone. To get any kind of competitive edge, the Arabs would virtually have to annihilate all the Israeli cutters. Even they’d have a hard time doing that.” She paused. “Unless they’re planning to blow up the Bursa.”

Decker heard her words. Then he broke out in a cold sweat.

Jet lag was a blessing in disguise. While the country slept, Decker was in high gear, his body fueled by urgency. He cut his conversation with Marge and began raking through his coat.

“Elhiani gave me his card.” Decker pulled something out of his pocket. “Damn! It’s his work number.”

Rina took the card. “We’ve got to start somewhere.” She dialed the digits. It took a long time for someone to answer. Not unusual, considering it was four in the morning. As calmly as she could, Rina related the emergency nature of the call, the necessity to speak to Mefakeah Elhiani directly. A moment later, Rina placed her hand over the receiver.

“I’m on hold.”

Decker covered his face with his hands, then looked up. “He’s going to think I’m crazy, you know. I’d think I was crazy. Because what I’ve got is a house of cards. If there’s a glitch in any of my suppositions, the whole thing’s going to come tumblin’ down.”

“What’s the alternative? Letting the Bursa blow up?”

“Yeah, you’re right. So I’ll look like a fool. Better that than…” Decker began to pace. “I hate being here. Out of my element. My investigation completely stymied because I don’t know the friggin’ rules!” He stopped walking and ran his hands through his hair. “Hell with the self-pity, Deck. First things first. Get hold of Elhiani.”

“I’m trying!” Rina felt her husband’s desperation. “Should I hang up and call back?”

“No.” Decker checked the clock. Four-twelve. “No, don’t hang up. If need be, I’ll call from another phone.”

He laughed softly, imagining himself trying to communicate with a night operator without Rina’s help.

Rina held up a finger, indicating she was back on the line. The woman on the other end told Rina to go ahead. Through the crack of static, Rina could make out a voice heavy with sleep. She identified herself to Mefakeah Elhiani and told him why she was calling.