THE DOCTOR ARRIVED AT 5:00 P.M. to see Monica. Not a moment too soon as far as she was concerned. He removed the IV and took her temp.
“Still running a fever,” he said. “Let me check your lungs.” He listened and she prayed, but he frowned. “Neither lung is clear. I’ll be back on Friday.”
It was what he didn’t say that bothered her the most.
“Stay on the bronchodilators and antibiotics. Don’t attempt any strenuous activities. A little walking is good. Rest often.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”
She hadn’t requested the doctor’s approval about attending the rodeo, and she hoped the prince hadn’t either. Priorities meant a few sacrifices.
During a short evening walk outside the Saud home, Kord enjoyed Monica’s grip on his arm. He hadn’t talked to the doctor after her appointment due to another meeting with Prince Omar and Ali.
She leaned into him and slipped her arm into the crook of his.
“Have you given in to my charms?” he said.
“No, Agent Davidson. Just maintaining my balance. Sorry for burdening you.”
“You’re overdoing it.” Telling her he enjoyed it might not be a good idea. “Like the scarf, by the way.”
“It makes the prince happy.”
“So would resting more.”
“The fresh air is good medicine, and the scent of spring flowers boosts my morale.”
“As long as you don’t have a relapse. What did the doctor say?”
“That I’m a good patient.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
She laughed. “Tell me about your meeting with Prince Omar this afternoon.”
“You inspired him.”
“How?”
He told her about the live video with Malik. “You were asleep. Saw no need to wake you. Not one sign of deceit in Malik’s words or body language. Threw me.”
“He’s playing the role of his life.”
“And he’s trained.”
“Does the prince know we believe Malik is still a suspect in the conspiracy?”
“He does. But he needs more proof and names.”
“In all that we’ve discovered about the suspects, we have two outsiders who can be questioned —a distraught father, whom I believe, and an Iranian national. The FBI and CIA are gathering more intel, but we’re missing an important piece that links them all.”
Kord reached for his phone and pointed to the marble bench. “Perfect time to check in again with my Iranian contact.”
Once seated, she removed her arm from his. “Everyone likes to be wakened at 2:30 a.m. Can you put the call on speaker?”
He glanced around before tapping in Rere’s number. The informant answered on the first ring. “That was quick.”
“Just picked up my phone to call you. Learned something tonight. Hold on while I make sure no one is around.”
When Rere indicated he was in place, Kord urged him to share all the details.
“My source points to Malik al-Kazaz as the originator of the assassination plot against Prince Omar,” Rere said.
“Is the source reliable?”
“The man has a connection inside Saudi with the conservatives. Malik arranged for Parvin Shah to handle the kill, offered to pay her $500,000 once the job was complete.”
“How did he recruit her?”
“We don’t know.”
“Where does her brother Jafar Turan fit?”
“No mention of him.”
“Youssof Dagher?”
“Malik recruited him.”
“Is Malik the leader of the conservatives?”
“That hasn’t been confirmed. I’m working on names.”
“Malik’s motivation?”
“Unclear. I heard a story about him slitting his mother’s throat when she learned he was meeting secretly with an Iranian. He blamed an intruder who was never found for the attack.”
“That was over two years ago, and he told Prince Omar she’d been attacked in her home, claimed she was murdered. Doesn’t fit with the current scheme unless he had designs to bring down Prince Omar then.” Images darted across his mind of the prince and his family in a pool of blood. “Maybe the mother’s murder is what ties it all together. We’ll work through it here. Anything else?”
“Another of my sources inside Iraq has photos of Malik with Parvin taken about six months ago. I’m sending them to your phone.”
“Which means she sneaked in and out of the US.”
“You need the why, and I’m working on it.”
“Dig more into the Saudi conservatives,” Kord said. “Thanks. Be safe.”
“No worries. I’m a good liar.”
Kord dropped his phone into his pocket and turned to Monica. “ASAP to Prince Omar. You were right. Should have listened. Remember when I said, ‘You know nothing about a brotherhood of loyalty’?”
“Doesn’t mean I like hearing a man is a killer. What can I do?” she said.
“Get better.” He kissed her cheek.
“I’m doing my best.” She yawned.
“Need to get you back inside. While we walk back, I’m contacting SAC Thomas. See how quickly we can confirm Jafar’s whereabouts.”
“I’ll text Jeff. Malik won’t live past the hour unless Saudi authorities think they can extract more information.”
“Either way, he’s a dead man.”