Free Who Killed Tiffany Jones? by Mavis Kaye Page A

and he thought of the trucks that he sometimes saw on highways with a WIDE LOAD sign across the back.
    Her hips moved fluidly beneath the silk fabric of her tightly fitted, flowered evening dress. Yes, indeed, he thought, this night looked very promising.
    Spivey stopped and spoke to several patrons, introducing her companions, as they strolled through the restaurant. She was well known among Washington politicos and special-interest groups. Not only did she know where many of the capital’s skeletons were hidden, but she 16470_ch01.qxd 7/12/02 4:33 PM Page 55
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    also knew how to connect people with the people they needed to know, which meant that she needed to know everyone who was anyone in the town. And tonight, as usual, she was busily working the floor.
    Just before entering the rest room, Spivey excused herself from the congressmen’s wives. She called her boss, the lobbyist Emanuel Epstein, on her cellphone, and informed him that both Durham and Hamlin were in pocket to support the diamond embargo bill. “In fact, they’ve both promised Representative Tony Hall that he can count on them,” she said. “But it’s going to take more than I have to offer to get Hernandez’s support for the trade sanctions bill.”
    “What’s Hernandez’s problem?” Epstein asked as he paced impatiently across his suite at the Watergate Hotel. “What do you think it’ll take?”
    “Don’t worry,” Spivey said, “I’ll figure it out.”
    Back at the table, Dave Hamlin was involved in a lively conversation with Durham and Hernandez. He looked up when a tall, elegant man with smooth ink-black skin passed and tapped him on his shoulder. It was the controversial Sierra Leone businessman, Ezekiel Kwabena. He wore a colorfully embroidered, silk kaftan over neatly pressed trousers and a white shirt and tie. When he took a seat at a table near the rear of the restaurant, his piercing eyes and toothy, milk-white smile were directed at Hamlin. Within minutes, the congressman rose and went over to greet Kwabena. After a brief discussion, he and Kwabena returned to the table where Hernandez and Durham were seated.
    “Ambassador Kwabena, I’d like you to meet Congressman John Durham of Pennsylvania and Senator Ray Hernandez of South Texas.”
    “Pleased to meet you,” the African said, flashing a broad, clever smile.
    “I’ve been talking to the congressman and the senator about the grave import of the house action relating to the diamond trade, Ambas-16470_ch01.qxd 7/12/02 4:33 PM Page 56
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    sador,” Hamlin said, assuming a solemn air. He called Kwabena ambassador even though he knew he wasn’t the country’s official representative. In fact, the businessman was more influential than the ambassador. He had connections that extended from oil- and diamond-field power brokers to the highest corridors of the presidential palace.
    “Good! Good! We must have a concerted effort,” Kwabena said, extending his hand as Durham and Hernandez rose to greet him.
    “I have been telling these gentlemen that we must take a stance that ends the misappropriation of funds by rebel forces in neighboring countries yet preserves the legitimacy of Sierra Leone’s diamond trade on the international market,” Hamlin said. “We need to get on the right side of this issue. A general boycott of the diamonds or even hasty legislation that usurps the country’s involvement in the certification of its own resources would seriously undermine the sovereignty of the nation. I’ve assured Ambassador Kwabena that our aim is to stop the mayhem without jeopardizing the independence of his nation.” Hamlin flashed a conspiratorial smile at Kwabena before turning back to Hernandez and Durham. “I’m sure you gentlemen agree.”
    “The brutality is unfortunate,” Kwabena said. “It has left a distorted image of our country when, in fact, it is the—”
    Seeing that the African