Free The Chameleon Conspiracy by Haggai Carmon Page A

on Ms. Otis that Ward was not going to return to the U.S. or
     pay her father back the $34,000 he had borrowed from him, she faxed several rabbis in Sydney and the Sydney Registry of Births,
     Deaths, and Marriages, hoping to frustrate Goldman’s marriage plans. Rabbi Applebaum commented that Ms. Otis’s contact was
     timely, not just because the marriage would have been bigamous, but because he opposes people marrying out of their faith.
     According to Ms. Otis, Goldman, also known as Albert C. Ward III, is not Jewish.
    “I’ll be damned,” I said in deep satisfaction. I looked for the date. It was only ten days old! I called David Stone.
    “David, I need to do additional searching and verifications, but it seems that I might have a lead on Ward’s trail.”
    “Where?”
    “In Australia,” I said, and gave David the details.
    “How recent is the news item?”
    “Ten days.”
    “Let me run it by the Office of International Affairs at the Criminal Division,” said David. “Maybe they already have something
     on that.”
    Now it was time for
cherchez la femme
: look for the woman. If Loretta Otis had spilled the beans on Ward once, she’d do it twice. There’s nothing more dangerous
     than a spurned woman. Maybe a spurned man.
    I called the FBI field office in Lexington, Kentucky.
    They called me back within the hour to give me the news: Loretta Otis had been found dead the night before in her apartment.
     Homicide.
    “How did she die?” I asked, as if it mattered for my investigation. She was dead—I couldn’t talk to her in any case.
    “Gun shots, three times. Looks professional, and if we’re not mistaken, she was the target. Doesn’t look like a foiled robbery—
     nothing was taken from her house.”
    I told them about my initial finding in the media about the victim, and asked the Bureau to call me back as the police investigation
     developed. But I already knew why she had died, and feared I’d hit a dead end there anyway.
    David called me later on that day. I told him about Otis’s assassination.
    He reflected for a moment and asked, “Do you think Ward is connected?”
    “I can’t rule it out. Look at the sequence of events. First she faxes the Rabbi to stop the wedding, then the Rabbi calls
     her to verify, then the Rabbi refuses to marry Ward and tells him why, and within days, bang bang bang, and Otis is dead.
     Probably silenced either as punishment or to keep her from spilling more. It seems that our case is not dead after all. It’s
     very much in motion.”
    “OK. Let local law enforcement handle that—we’re only after the money. Anyway, I’ve just got the authorizations. Start packing,
     you’re going to Sydney. Your travel documents are on the way. We’ve received the cooperation of the Australian Federal Police.
     They have assigned an agent to assist you. His nameis…Hold on, let me get the cable. Peter Maxwell. I’ll give you his number. Call him directly to alert him of your arrival
     time, and we’ll take it from there.”
    “Peter Maxwell here,” said a friendly voice with a heavy Australian accent, when I dialed his number.
    “Hi, Mr. Maxwell, this is Dan Gordon of the U.S. Department of Justice.”
    “Hello, Dan, I’ve been expecting your call, and forget the
mister
, just call me Peter.” Peter Maxwell pronounced his name
Pita
. He was warm and open as he brought me up to speed. Goldman was still at large. Border records showed the entry of a Herbert
     Goldman, a U.S. citizen, through Sydney’s airport on March 1, 2004. On the immigration form he’d indicated a hotel as place
     of stay.
    “Which hotel?” I asked.
    “No name, just ‘a hotel.’ ”
    “I’m planning to come over to see the Australian Federal Police in action,” I said.
    “Please come, although I don’t expect a lot of action on this end. Hopefully we’ll find him. But it’s one hell of a big country
     down here, mate.”
    Three days later I arrived at the Sydney airport. To my