“Dude, Where’s My Car?”

That question, first posed in a Hollywood comedy about two stoners unable to locate their jalopy, has begun to dominate the U.N. daily press briefings. In this remake, the title roles are played by the secretary-general of the United Nations, Kofi Annan; his son, Kojo; a supporting cast of U.N. employees and business associates, and a luxury 1998 Mercedes-Benz.

And instead of the adventures of lovable stoners, the subject matter is stonewalling.

“Your world is so small, you are lucky, I am envious: You live and breathe oil for food,” Mr. Annan told me recently. “We are pressing ahead with what needs to be done, so I would urge you also to move on, my dear chap.”

The Bush administration has all but resigned – in the aftermath of the Volcker reports – to leaving Mr. Annan in place until his term ends in December 2006. The rest of the world was prepared even earlier to overlook corruption and move on. But some dear chaps of the U.N. press corps remain puzzled by the likes of the Mercedes affair.

It begins with an interim Volcker report in September, detailing how Kojo Annan bought the Mercedes in 1998 in Geneva. Kojo’s childhood friend Michael Wilson, whose company, Cotecna, had just landed a U.N. deal with Kojo’s help, paid the initial $3,000 deposit for the car. Kofi Annan pitched in with $15,000 of his own money toward the purchase.

Did Kofi Annan know his name also appeared on ownership papers?

By purchasing the car in his father’s name, Kojo was able to get a diplomatic discount, shaving $6,541 off the sticker price. Later, when he shipped the car to Ghana, Kojo was able to cheat his homeland of $14,103 worth of taxes that most car importers pay but diplomats do not.

A Volcker investigator recently told me the team has looked hard for the smoking gun: a document produced by anyone at the United Nations authorizing the use of the secretary-general’s name as the car owner.

In March 1998, according to the Volcker report, Kojo Annan sent Mr. Wilson a fax saying, “I will confirm with my dad I can use his name.” A memo written by the secretary-general’s personal assistant, Wagabe Assebe, asks Mr. Annan whether another of his personal aides, Lamin Sise, could produce a letter saying the car belongs to the secretary-general. Mr. Sise’s letter, if it was ever written, was never found by the Volcker investigators.

The September 7 report also said that the top U.N. Development Program representative in Ghana, Abdoulie Janneh, told a high Ghanaian foreign ministry official that the car Kojo Annan wanted to import was for his father’s use. Mr. Janneh told the Volcker committee that he relied on Kojo’s word and the bill of lading, which apparently said the car was owned by Kofi Annan.

Under daily questioning, Mr. Annan’s spokesmen refused to say if they knew whether Mr. Janneh has ever been disciplined for his action. Last week, Claudia Rosett reported in the National Review online that those same spokesmen had earlier announced officially that Mr. Janneh had, in fact, been promoted. Twice: Once after helping Mr. Annan in Ghana, and again after testifying in front of the Volcker committee. He is now an undersecretary-general, the third-highest ranking at the United Nations.

“We were all surprised when he was promoted,” a UNDP official told me recently, asking to remain anonymous. “His skills were average at best.”

And then there is that other unanswered question, posed at the top of this column. The Volcker committee never described the car, but Time magazine, apparently relying on a leak days before the report was issued, said it was a “sporty green Mercedes ML 320” – certainly not easily lost in Ghana’s streets. Did Kofi Annan ever get to drive it? Does Kojo own it? Was it sold? Was it passed on as a gift? Dude, where’s my car?

For weeks, reporters who ask about it daily have been told the United Nations has nothing “further” to say on the Mercedes. In one outburst, spokeswoman Marie Okabe even told the London Times’s James Bone, “We don’t consider it a U.N. matter.” Yesterday, I sent the question in an e-mail to Mr. Annan’s personal attorney on oil-for-food matters, Gregory Craig. Maybe he knows.