Caldwell turned around and nodded at one of the INS lawyers at the crowded table. The lawyer seized a bundle of papers and rushed to Caldwell's side. He selected then held up one clump of papers. Caldwell asked, "Can you please identify this?"
Volevodz bent forward. "That is an English translation of the Ministry of Justice investigation."
"And this?"
"The Ministry of Finance investigation."
"And this?"
"My own investigation."
"And do these three investigations draw similar conclusions?"
"Identical conclusions."
"Could you briefly describe those conclusions?"
"Briefly? Konevitch stole 250 million dollars. He gutted and bankrupted his company. He almost single-handedly ruined the credibility of the Russian banking model. It is impossible to summarize in a short statement."
Caldwell turned his back to the colonel and smiled at the peanut gallery. "Yes, I imagine it is. Do any of these investigations differ in any serious regard?"
"No. The facts were easily established. The evidence was overwhelming. Perhaps a hundred different investigators reached the exact same conclusion."
"That Konevitch is a crook?"
"A thief. A liar. A confidence man."
"Was Konevitch ever asked to return to Russia?"
"Yes, by me. I pleaded with him. Twice, on two separate occasions. I assured him of a fair trial. I offered my personal protection. If he was innocent, he could clear his name."
"Twice?"
"That's what I said."
"And how did he respond?"
"He laughed. He pointed out there was no extradition treaty between our countries. He stuck his finger in my chest and said he would hide behind your flag."
Caldwell couldn't resist that opening. "He would hide behind our flag? The Stars and Stripes?"
"His exact words."
Another document was held up and splayed open. Caldwell asked, "Can you identify this for the court?"
The thin eyes squinted again. "It's the indictment issued against Alex Konevitch for his crimes." He leaned forward, as if he needed a closer look. "It's signed by Anatoli Fyodorev, Russia's equivalent to your attorney general."
Caldwell looked at the judge. "Your Honor, we submit these investigations and indictments as evidence that Alex Konevitch committed serious crimes in Russia, and later he lied and covered up these crimes when he fled here."
The stack was handed off to the clerk, who quickly assigned a number to each one before she arranged them in an orderly stack on her desk. Alex was seated in his chair. He showed no surprise or even concern over the seriousness of the testimony.
His Honor looked at MP. "Would you care to cross-examine?"
"I would not, Your Honor," he answered without looking up.
Volevodz was released. The next witness was the chief Russian prosecutor, who was identified and properly sworn in.
He sat and Caldwell approached. "Could you please describe your role in this investigation?"
"I was ordered by the state attorney general to prepare the indictment and legal case against Alex Konevitch."
"He's a wanted man in Russia, I take it?"
"Number one on our most wanted list."
"Do you believe he's guilty?"
"That would be a matter for our courts to decide."
"But Mr. Konevitch claims your courts are unfair." "Ridiculous. Under the old communist system, maybe. We are a democracy now. Our courts are every bit as judicious and fair as yours."
"So he would be allowed to hire a lawyer?"
"As many as he can afford. If he can't afford any, the state will appoint one."
"He would be allowed to present evidence on his own behalf?"
"Just like here, Mr. Caldwell. Konevitch will enjoy the full benefit of innocence until proven guilty."
"Are you aware that some Americans have a poor impression of your legal system?"
"Are you aware that some Russians have a poor impression of yours?"
"Touche." Caldwell decided to step out on a limb, directed his gaze at Alex, then asked, "Why would Mr. Konevitch feel he can't get an honest shake in Russia?"
The Russian also directed his gaze at Alex, who nodded politely but otherwise appeared indifferent.
"Maybe an honest shake, as you call it, is the last thing he wants."
Caldwell paused and waited for the loud but inevitable objection from MP Jones. He had led this witness. He had openly encouraged an act of naked conjecture-how could the chief prosecutor possibly know what Alex was thinking?
Silence. MP sat in his seat, doodling on a legal pad. He looked bored out of his mind. Beside him, Alex appeared to be studying MP's doodles, as transfixed as he would be by a da Vinci or a Picasso.
"Thank you," Caldwell said to his witness, then studied the ceiling a moment as though he needed a little help from the Lord to remember his next point. He snapped his fingers. "Oh, another question. The money Mr. Konevitch stole? Did you ever find it?"
The chief prosecutor looked at Alex. "Some of it, yes. We tracked a few million to a bank in Bermuda."
Another of Caldwell's aides hustled over and shoved a sheet of paper at the witness.
Caldwell asked with construed curiosity, "Would this be the account information?" What else could it be?
