“Your name is Hamid Al Obaydi?”
“Yes,” replied Al Obaydi, looking directly at the State Prosecutor.
“You are charged with treason and the theft of state property. How do you plead?”
“I am innocent, and Allah will be my witness.”
“If Allah is to be your witness, I’m sure he won’t mind me asking you some simple questions.”
“I will be most happy to answer anything.”
“When you returned from New York earlier this month, you continued your work in the Foreign Ministry. Is that correct?”
“It is.”
“And was one of your responsibilities checking the government’s latest position with reference to UN sanctions?”
“Yes. That was part of my job as Deputy Ambassador to the UN.”
“Quite so. And when you carried out these checks, you came across certain items on which embargoes had been lifted. Am I right?”
“Yes, you are,” said Al Obaydi confidently.
“Was one of those items a safe?”
“It was,” said Al Obaydi.
“When you realized this, what did you do about it?”
“I telephoned the Swedish company who had built the safe to ascertain what the latest position was, so that I could enter the facts in my report.”
“And what did you discover?”
Al Obaydi hesitated, not sure how much the Prosecutor knew.
“What did you discover?” insisted Farrar.
“That the safe had been collected that day by a Mr. Riffat.”
“Did you know this Mr. Riffat?”
“No, I did not.”
“So what did you do next?”
“I rang the Ministry of Industry, as I was under the impression that they were responsible for the safe.”
“And what did they tell you?”
“That the responsibility had been taken out of their hands.”
“Did they also tell you into whose hands the responsibility had been entrusted?” asked the Prosecutor.
“I don’t remember exactly.”
“Well, let me try and refresh your memory — or shall I call the Permanent Secretary to whom you spoke on the phone that morning?”
“I think he may have said that it was no longer in their hands,” said Al Obaydi.
“Did he tell you whose hands it was in?” repeated the Prosecutor.
“I think he said something about the file being sent to Geneva.”
“It may interest you to know that the official has submitted written evidence to confirm just that.”
Al Obaydi lowered his head.
“So, once you knew that the file had been passed on to Geneva, what did you do next?”
“I phoned Geneva and was told the Ambassador was not available. I left a message to say that I had called,” said Al Obaydi confidently, “and asked if he would call back.”
“Did you really expect him to call back?”
“I assumed he would.”
“You assumed he would. So what did you write in your report, in the sanctions file?”
“The file?” asked Al Obaydi.
“Yes. You were making a report for your successor. What information did you pass on to him?”
“I don’t remember,” said Al Obaydi.
“Then allow me to remind you once again,” said the Prosecutor, lifting a slim brown file from the table. “‘The Ministry of Industry has sent the file concerning this item directly to Geneva. I phoned our Ambassador there, but was unable to make contact with him. Therefore, I cannot make any progress from this end until he returns my call. Hamid Al Obaydi.’ Did you write that?”
“I can’t remember.”
“You can’t remember what the Permanent Secretary said to you; you can’t remember what you wrote in your own report when property of the state might have been stolen, or worse... But I shall come to that later. Perhaps you would like to check your own handwriting?” said the Prosecutor as he walked from the table and thrust the relevant sheet in front of Al Obaydi’s face. “Is that your writing?”
“Yes, it is. But I can explain.”
“And is that your signature at the bottom of the page?”
Al Obaydi leaned forward, studied the signature and nodded.
“Yes or no?” barked the Prosecutor.
“Yes,” said Al Obaydi quietly.
“Did you, that same afternoon, visit General Al-Hassan, the Head of State Security?”
“No. He visited me.”
“Ah, I have made a mistake. It was he who visited you.”
“Yes,” said Al Obaydi.
“Did you alert him to the fact that an enemy agent might be heading towards Iraq, having found a way of crossing the border with the intention of perhaps assassinating our leader?”
“I couldn’t have known that.”
“But you must have suspected something unusual was going on?”
“I wasn’t certain at that time.”
“Did you let General Al-Hassan know of your uncertainty?”
“No. I did not.”
“Was it because you didn’t trust him?”
“I didn’t know him. It was the first time we had met. The previous...” Al Obaydi regretted the words the moment he had said them.
“You were about to say?” said the Prosecutor.
“Nothing.”
“I see. So, let us move on to the following day, when you paid a visit — because I feel confident that he didn’t visit you — to the Deputy Foreign Minister.” This induced some smiles around the table, but Al Obaydi did not see them.
“Yes, a routine call to discuss my appointment to Paris. He was, after all, the former Ambassador.”
“Quite. But was he not also your immediate superior?”
“Yes, he was,” said Al Obaydi.
“So, did you tell him of your suspicions?”
“I wasn’t sure there was anything to tell him.”
“Did you tell him of your suspicions?” asked the Prosecutor, raising his voice.
“No, I did not.”
“Was he not to be trusted either? Or didn’t you know him well enough?”
“I wasn’t sure. I wanted more proof.”
“I see. You wanted more proof. So what did you do next?”
“I traveled to Paris,” said Al Obaydi.
“On the next day?” asked the State Prosecutor.
“No,” said Al Obaydi, hesitating.
“On the day after, perhaps? Or the day after that?”
“Perhaps.”
“Meanwhile, the safe was on its way to Baghdad. Is that right?”
“Yes, but—”
“And you still hadn’t informed anyone? Is that also correct?”
Al Obaydi didn’t reply.
“Is that also correct?” shouted Farrar.
“Yes, but there was still enough time—”
“Enough time for what?” asked the State Prosecutor.
Al Obaydi’s head sank again.
“For you to reach the safety of our embassy in Paris?”
“No,” said Al Obaydi. “I traveled on to—”
“Yes?” said Farrar. “You traveled on to where?”
Al Obaydi realized he had fallen into the trap.
“To Sweden, perhaps?”
“Yes,” said Al Obaydi. “But only because—”
“You wanted to check the safe was well on its way? Or was it, as you told the Foreign Minister, that you were simply going on vacation?”
“No, but—”
“‘Yes, but, no, but.’ Were you on vacation in Sweden or were you representing the state?”
“I was representing the state.”
“Then why did you travel economy, and not charge the state for the expense that was incurred?”
Al Obaydi made no reply.
The Prosecutor leaned forward. “Was it because you didn’t want anyone to know you were in Sweden, when your superiors thought you were in Paris?”