TUESDAY, APRIL 8, 2003 -- Yesterday’s bombing of a home in the residential Mansour section of Baghdad could serve as a fitting book-end to the Iraq War. It would be great if the four bunker-buster bombs dropped into the neighborhood yesterday killed Saddam Hussein and his two sons. But it defies belief that Hussein, so paranoid (not without good reason!) would show up in a location with more than 10 Baath Party lieutenants.

Upon hearing news of the attack last night -- first broken by the desperate MSNBC, which worked the story hard -- my first thought was "who was the rat?" My imagination became riveted with the vision of the unctuous Tarik Aziz finally deciding his days with Hussein were numbered and placing a gentlemanly call to Secretary of State Colin Powell on his private cell phone. "Colin, have the arrangements been made?" I could imagine Aziz saying furtively on the phone. "Yes, they are in the al-Sa’ah restaurant."

The only reason Hussein would endanger himself by going to such a location would be to locate and uncover traitors. The only aides who would deign not to be present at such an event would be those in league with the enemy. Still, a risk like that would not be in Hussein’s character. During the 1991 Gulf War, for instance, Hussein spent much of the time riding alone but for a driver, through the streets of Baghdad with no entourage at all.

Optimists suggest that Hussein may have had not other choice but to meet his aides at a quasi-public place. His presidential palaces are in the possession of American forces. His complex system of tunnels, beginning at the airport, have been breached by the U.S. Army. Hussein could have no options, they argue.

The final scenario to explain last night’s events is the one probably preferred by novelists. Hussein tells one of his aides to tell the Americans about a big final Baath Party meeting. Hussein fakes his death, sneaks out of Baghdad, shaves his moustache, maybe has plastic surgery, and accesses his Swiss bank accounts. Then, sometime in the future, an American vacationer goes to some beach resort somewhere has a drink and cigar with a charismatic Middle Easterner with penetrating eyes. "Hey, wasn’t that...."

Or maybe Hussein just slips away with Whitey Bulger.