“You’re traveling on an Argentine passport,” they said accusingly. They had gotten their information from the manifest. The passenger list of all flights into the United States was carefully checked against the FBI’s No Fly List before they were given clearance to take off. Passengers on the list were removed from the plane before departure or sent back to the country of origin when they landed. And those on a questionable list were interrogated on arrival, as they were doing with Joachim.
“I was born in Argentina. I’m a dual national, with French citizenship as well, and I have legal residency in England, where I work.” They flipped through his passport and looked at the stamps in it without comment for several minutes.
“You were recently in Argentina. Why?”
“I hadn’t been back in twenty-five years, and I wanted to see it again. After my previous employer’s death, I had the time.” His answers were straightforward and honest, but Olivia noticed that he was perspiring, and so was she. The room was small and hot, the lights were bright, and there were six of them in it, she and Joachim and the four Homeland Security officers. She was nervous, and frightened, and hoped she didn’t faint, which wouldn’t look good to them.
“Did you see relatives in Argentina when you were there?”
“No, I didn’t. I was there for a week, and then I went back to Paris, where I’m currently staying with my mother.”
One of the officers who hadn’t spoken up yet addressed Joachim in a surly tone. “Is she your girlfriend?” he asked, pointing at Olivia, and Joachim looked shocked, and wondered if they were trying to trip him up.
“No, she’s not. She’s my employer.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Have you had sex with her?” the officer asked him right in front of Olivia, and she blushed and looked shocked.
“No, I have not. May I ask why you’re asking us these questions?”
“You can ask, but we don’t have to answer. We’ll get to that later.” Joachim guessed that there was a reason for it, but he couldn’t guess what it was. “Is the name on your passport an alias?”
“No, it’s not. It’s my legal name.” He was careful not to say he was born with it, now that he knew his mother had changed their name to his grandmother’s maiden name when his father left them, and his grandfather was arrested for war crimes. There was no way these people would ever understand that. And it was none of Olivia’s business. This was humiliating enough, without adding to it.
“Have you ever been arrested for drug trafficking, or smuggling?”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve never been arrested.”
“Have you been in prison?”
“No, I have not.” At the last few questions, he began to suspect what it might be about, but he was not going to ask them any questions or volunteer any information.
They left them alone again then. This time for an hour. They had been in the small, airless room for almost two hours by then, with no sign of relenting, and Olivia wondered if they were going to put them back on a plane to Paris, and not let them into the country. But she had no idea why. As the minutes ticked by, she began to wonder if there was something dangerous in Joachim’s past that he hadn’t told her. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. They avoided talking to each other while they waited, not knowing if the room was bugged and who was listening, or watching them.
The officers periodically drifted back into the room to repeat some of the same questions and got the same answers. And they kept an eye on them through a two-way glass window the entire time.
When they had been there for four hours, Olivia was feeling sick, and she was wondering what was going to happen to them, and if they would be arrested. She was wondering if Joachim had brought drugs with him. Maybe there was a whole side of him she didn’t know. Anything was possible, and there had to be a reason for the interrogation they were being subjected to.