The Riddle (A James Acton Thriller, Book #11) by J Robert Kennedy Page A

police are either convinced
this American committed the assassination, or they are intentionally trying to
frame him for the murder. Either way they are dead set on convicting an
American.”
    “I
wonder how they got his photo,” said Acton. “It looked like a photocopy of an
ID.”
    “All
ID’s were being copied today because of the diplomatic visits,” said Mai. “Just
as yours were.”
    Laura
instinctively reached for where her passport would be. “It said Bureau of
Diplomatic Security. Who are they?”
    “They
provide security for embassy staff and government officials while traveling in
foreign countries,” explained Acton. “He’s obviously part of Secretary
Atwater’s security detail.”
    “But I
didn’t see him in her group.”
    “Neither
did I.”
    Mai
leapt to her feet, pacing nervously. “I understand you are rich, Professor
Palmer.”
    “Well,
I…”
    Laura’s brother
had sold his hi-tech company before the bubble burst netting him hundreds of
millions, the exact amount Acton wasn’t even sure about. Laura had given him
full access to everything when they married, but he didn’t care enough to
actually look. All he knew was that she had inherited it all when her brother
had been killed, and from all appearances most of it still remained, if not
more, the interest on that kind of money obscene.
    “If you
have money, then I suggest you use it to get out.”
    “How?”
asked Laura. “We still need passports to get on an airplane.”
    “I might
be able to get you fake passports.”
    “How?”
    Mai
flushed slightly. “My brother isn’t exactly an honest man.”
    “We
can’t choose our family,” said Acton. “But if we were caught with fake
passports we would be going to prison for a very long time.”
    Someone
knocked on the door gently.
    It still
startled them all, Mai jumping to her feet and running around the couch twice,
trying to find a place to hide if Acton weren’t mistaken. He rose and walked
quietly to the door, looking through the peephole. “It’s okay,” he said,
opening the door.
    Burt
Dawson stepped inside and quickly closed the door behind me. “I’ve only got a
minute. I understand you wanted to speak to me?”
    Acton
smiled. “Glad you got our message. Are you aware that they’re claiming Niner
was the shooter today?”
    Dawson
nodded, his lips a thin line. “Yes.”
    “I told
them he didn’t do it, but they don’t care. They’ve got a photocopy of his ID.
Apparently it was used to enter the museum.”
    Dawson
stepped deeper into the room, his eyes coming to rest on Mai. “And you are?”
    Laura
answered. “Mai Lien Trinh, a grad student from to the National Museum of
History.”
    “She’s
our guide,” added Acton. “I trust her.”
    “With
your life?”
    Acton
wasn’t sure what to say without embarrassing everyone, since he had to admit he
couldn’t answer truthfully. Right now he trusted very few people within a few
thousand miles.
    Dawson
was one of them.
    As was
Niner.
    “We have
no choice,” he said instead. “Where’s Niner?”
    “On the
Secretary’s floor for now. They’ve demanded we hand him over but we’ve instead
agreed to an interrogation supervised by us on our turf.”
    “What do
you plan to do?” asked Laura, now standing beside the two men.
    Dawson
lowered his voice, glancing at Mai. “I’ve been ordered to do whatever it takes
to prove his innocence.” He lowered it even further. “There’s fear that war
could break out if we can’t prove an American didn’t do this.”
    Air
burst from Acton’s lips. “How can we prove it wasn’t him?”
    “You saw
the shooter?”
    Acton
nodded. “Clearly. And it wasn’t Niner, of course.”
    “I had
little doubt,” said Dawson with a wry smile. “Could you describe him?”
    Acton
shrugged. “Honestly I doubt it. I don’t even know if I’d recognize him if I saw
him again. He was about five-four, hundred-twenty pounds maybe? Vietnamese in
appearance. He had hair.”