Two hours later, Kevin was in jail, visiting Draga. Kevin had picked up Chinese food, and the two men sat in the interview room, eating out of cartons with chopsticks.
“I’ll reserve a cell for you next to mine,” Draga said after Kevin brought him up to date on his legal difficulties.
“That’s a comforting thought.”
Kevin passed the chow mien to Draga. “Trade you for the fried rice.”
Draga dug at the rice one more time before handing the carton to Kevin.
“Want me to defend you at the hearing?” Draga asked.
“Oh yeah, you’ve really impressed Judge Davidson with your courtroom decorum. You’re the perfect choice.”
The two men laughed.
Talking to Draga made Kevin feel better, even if the man was absolutely no help.
“I called my contact at the Embassy,” Kevin reported, “and asked him to get your brother-in-law here for Monday’s hearing. I’m probably going to need him to testify that I had hired him as my investigator.”
Draga nodded, passing the chow mien back to Kevin, and digging into the pork.
“He’s supposed to be bringing me some reports of the investigation he’s done on your kidnapping. The version in the prosecution’s discovery just doesn’t make sense. If you were just unexpectedly handed over to the U.N. at the Romanian border, how did Allen Jacobson, the chief investigator for your case, get on the scene to try to interview you within two hours after you were found?”
“I didn’t say a word to that jerk.”
“There’s more to the story than we’re being told,” Kevin said.
“I have some business to discuss with you,” Draga said.
Kevin perked up. Had Draga changed his mind about assisting in his defense?
Draga pulled out a torn piece of newspaper. “Here’s the odds for this weekend’s NFL football games. Let’s see if you can pick the teams better than I can.”
Kevin looked sideways at Draga. “You want me to help you bet on football?”
“No, I want us both to bet on the games against each other. We can do it all season. Then, at the end, the winner pays off.”
“I’m about to go to jail for contempt and you’re facing life in prison and you want us to bet on football games?”
“I can pick the winners in your own country better than you.”
Kevin eyed his client. “No, you can’t. I follow football all year.”
Draga handed Kevin the paper. His picks were already circled.
Kevin studied the point spreads while Draga dug the remains out of the cartons.
“How much are we betting?” Kevin asked.
“How about a hundred dollars a game?” Draga replied.
“Are you crazy?”
“How about a hundred Euros, then?”
“Where would you get that kind of money? Wait, I don’t want to know.”
Draga smiled. “Okay, let’s just play for sport. Ten Euros a game.”
“That’s more like it. I’ll win enough off you this season to take my family out for a nice dinner.”
Draga laughed. “The Chinese was great. Thanks for lunch.”
“Let’s hope we’re not cell mates by Monday. Who would bring in the take-out?”
“See you in court, counselor.”
Sunday was Diane’s birthday, and Kevin, determined not to spoil her special weekend, decided not to mention the contempt order.
On Saturday, he and Ellen took the bus to The Hague and then shopped for presents. Ellen picked out matching orange sweatshirts for Diane and herself with Queen Beatrix’s family’s coat of arms on them. Ellen always managed to receive presents on other people’s birthdays. At the Royal pottery factory in Delft, an old city just south of The Hague, Kevin bought Diane a blue and white serving plate with a scene from one of their favorite Rembrandt’s, “The Night Watch.”
On Sunday afternoon, Kevin and Ellen took Diane to the Madurodam, an outdoor museum in The Hague where the scenes of cities and towns all over Holland were elaborately displayed in miniature.
“We know you like to stay close to home, Mommy,” Ellen explained thoughtfully. “This way you can visit all of Holland without leaving The Hague.”
They walked along the canals of Amsterdam, past the famous spire of the Dom church of Utrecht, and the busy port of Rotterdam. Ellen’s favorite spot was the Mars candy factory. There, if you deposited ten cents, a miniature truck would take a piece of candy from a conveyor belt and deliver it to you.
Every child visiting the Madurodam was given a passport, which contained a challenging game of locating various buildings throughout the museum. Diane and Kevin tried to keep up with Ellen as she raced around answering the questions in her passport. As they were leaving, Ellen turned in her passport at the front desk. She had gotten all the questions right, and was awarded a stamp in the passport.
Just as Ellen ran over to show Kevin and Diane the stamp, she bumped into a man walking into the Madurodam.
“Don’t I know you?” the man asked.
Ellen thought she recognized him. “You’re helping my dad, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
The man followed Ellen over to where Kevin and Diane were waiting.
“Mr. Anderson, I have just run into your lovely daughter. Or should I say, she has just run in to me,” said Zoran Vacinovic of the Serbian Embassy.
“Hello, Mr. Vacinovic. I hope Ellen wasn’t too rough with you.”
Vacinovic smiled. “Not at all. I was coming to show Mr. Golic some of Holland.”
Kevin saw his huge investigator coming up behind Vacinovic. They shook hands.
“Thank you for coming back to Holland, Mr. Golic,” Kevin said.
Golic turned to Ellen. “And how are you, young lady?”
“Great!” beamed Ellen. “I got all the questions right in my passport. Want to see?” Without waiting for an answer, she whipped out the passport and showed it to Golic.
“I just received some reports from Mr. Golic,” Vacinovic told Kevin. “I will bring them to court tomorrow. I think you will find them very interesting. And I’ve arranged for an attorney from Belgrade to be in court tomorrow as well.”
Kevin nodded. He turned to Golic. “I’m sorry to take you away from your family.”
“It is no problem.”
“How are you related to Draga anyway?”
Golic hesitated. “How do you say it in English?” he asked. Then he answered, “I am the brother of his wife.”
“The movie star?” Ellen piped in.
“Yes,” Golic said with a smile.
“Cool!”
“I don’t want to keep you and your lovely family on such a day,” Vacinovic said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” He and Golic waved goodbye and melted into the crowd.
“What’s happening tomorrow?” Diane asked.
“I’ll tell you later.”
Diane frowned. “That guy shows up at the strangest places. First he came to our house at night, now he’s at Madurodam – a children’s place – with his big friend and no kids. I don’t trust him.”
“Do you think he’s following us?” Kevin asked, open to the possibility.
“I don’t know.”
“I know one thing. Mr. Golic is not my client’s brother-in-law.”
“How do you know that?” Ellen asked.
“Do you remember how he said he was the brother of Draga’s wife?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, when I asked Draga how they were related, he said that Golic was married to one of his sisters.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Well, there’s two ways you can be a brother-in-law. You can be married to somebody’s sister, right?”
“Yeah,” Ellen said, following Kevin so far.
“Or you can be the brother of somebody’s wife.”
“I get it. Golic and Draga gave you two different stories?”
“Right.”
“You’re smart, Daddy.”
“Coming from you, that’s a real compliment.”
Kevin put his arm around Ellen as they walked back to their car.
On Monday morning, Kevin was seated at his usual place at the defense counsel table when Judge Davidson swept into the courtroom.
“Prosecutor versus Dragoljub Zaric,” the Deputy Registrar called. “Case number IT-96-30. State your appearances please.”
“Bradford Stone for the Prosecution.”
“Kevin Anderson for the accused,”
“And I am a lawyer from Belgrade, Your Honor,” the man seated next to Kevin announced. “I am an attorney for the government of Serbia and Montenegro. My government would like to join in the Motion for Return of Property filed on behalf of the accused.”
Judge Davidson looked at the lawyer sternly. “This is a hearing on Mr. Anderson’s contempt.”
“I thought perhaps the Court might address the legality of the searches of our Embassy and Mr. Anderson’s home as well, since the issues appear to be intertwined with the alleged contempt.”
Kevin appreciated the Belgrade lawyer’s use of the word “alleged.”
“We’ll see about that,” Judge Davidson muttered. Turning to Kevin, he said, “Mr. Anderson, this is the time set for you to show cause why you should not be held in contempt for violation of this Court’s protective order.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. I’m ready to call my first witness.”
“We don’t need to hear witnesses. Let me hear what you have to say for yourself.”
“Your Honor, I would like to call a witness who will establish my innocence. It will be much more convincing than anything I have to tell you.”
“Well, make it quick,” Judge Davidson grumbled.
“I call John Wells.”
Wells’ head bolted up from the back row of tables on the prosecution side of the courtroom. Bradford Stone, too, was startled, and was soon on his feet.
“Your Honor,” Stone whined. “He has no right to call our chief investigator as his witness. It’s just an excuse for mischief.”
Judge Davidson turned to Kevin. “This better be relevant to the contempt, counsel, or I’m going to cut your examination right off. Mr. Wells, come forward and take the solemn declaration.”
Wells walked to the witness chair and promised to tell the truth. When he was seated, his look of surprise had been replaced by the look of a snake coiled and ready.
“Mr. Wells,” Kevin asked pleasantly, “as part of your investigation in this matter, did you recover the box of materials from the Post Office that I was seen giving to Zoran Vacinovic at the Embassy of Serbia and Montenegro?”
“Yes, I did.”
Kevin wanted to get right to the point and not give Wells an opportunity to take any gratuitous swipes at him. “It’s true, is it not, that not a single piece of paper in that box related to a protected witness or was covered by the protective order?”
Wells hesitated, trying to find a way to answer the question and damage Kevin. Finally, he replied, “That appears to be the case.”
“I have nothing further,” Kevin announced, sitting down after asking only two questions.
Judge Davidson struggled to assimilate what he had just heard. He slowly turned to Bradford Stone. “Cross-examination, Mr. Stone?”
Bradford Stone stood erect, his chin pointed in the air. “Mr. Wells,” he asked, “who did Mr. Anderson give the materials to?”
“Zoran Vacinovic,” Wells replied, then added, “a high ranking member of the secret police.”
“What ethnic group makes up the secret police?”
“They are all Serbs.”
“And who are the people most likely to retaliate against Muslim witnesses before this Tribunal?”
“The Serbs, especially those in the secret police.”
“Now, when you searched Mr. Anderson’s home, was he on the phone with someone?”
“Yes, Zoran Vacinovic.”
“And what was Mr. Anderson’s demeanor when you searched his home?”
“He was extremely hostile,” Wells responded.
“In your experience, is that the normal reaction of someone who has done nothing wrong?” Stone asked haughtily.
“People who have nothing to hide don’t act like that.”
“No further questions, Your Honor,” Stone said, sitting down triumphantly.
“Any redirect examination?” the judge asked Kevin.
Kevin was sorely tempted to take Wells on, but his instincts told him to leave it alone. Surely he would not be found in contempt simply because he was outraged at the search of his home. “No, thank you, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Stone,” Judge Davidson inquired, “do you wish to call any witnesses?”
“No, Your Honor. Mr. Anderson has called our witness for us. It is plain that Mr. Anderson violated the spirit, if not the letter, of the protective order. Conspiring with a member of the Serbian secret police is a serious matter, regardless of whether the materials were literally covered by the order or not. We don’t know what kind of information Mr. Anderson passed on to the man orally during their two hour lunch, on the telephone, or at other meetings.”
“Mr. Anderson,” Judge Davidson said when Stone had finished, “Do you have anything further to say before I rule?”
“I think Mr. Stone said it best, Your Honor.”
Judge Davidson shot him a quizzical look.
“He said ‘we don’t know.’ They didn’t know what was in the box when they invaded my home and a foreign embassy. Now we do know. And it is clear that no violation of the protective order took place. What is clear, however, is that the searches were illegal, and I would ask the court to order the material returned immediately.”
“What is your position on the search issue, Mr. Stone?”
“Your Honor, there is no reason for the court to have to concern itself with the legality of the search. We do not intend to use any of the seized evidence at Mr. Zaric’s trial. Therefore, even if the search was illegal, which it most assuredly was not, there is no evidence for the court to exclude, and no prejudice to the accused from the searches.”
Kevin was on his feet. “Your Honor, that doesn’t solve the problem one bit. They seized attorney-client materials from my home dealing with our defense strategy. Just having knowledge of the contents of those materials taints their whole case and prejudices the accused, whether they directly use the evidence or not.”
“Wait until I ask for your position before stating it,” Judge Davidson rebuked Kevin. “Now, Mr. Stone, what about the so-called privileged materials?”
“That is also no problem. Our office has erected a Chinese wall for all of the items seized during these searches. Neither Mr. Jacobson, the investigator on Mr. Zaric’s case, nor I have seen these materials and they will be shielded from us and anyone else who works on this case. Therefore, there will be no use made of any privileged materials against the accused.”
“Very well,” Judge Davidson replied.
Kevin wanted to offer a rebuttal, but the Judge didn’t call on him, so he remained silent.
The lawyer from Belgrade, however, rose from his chair. “Our government’s interests have not been addressed. We would like you to rule the search illegal so that the world knows the truth.”
“The Court will be in recess,” Judge Davidson ordered. “The world will know the truth when we reconvene in thirty minutes.”