'Bar-Lev here. We don't usually talk to people until they tell us who they are.'
'And if they have information?' The voice was rough, the accent North African.
'If you're looking for a reward-'
'I'm not.'
'So what do you want?'
'Got a list.'
'What kind of list?'
'Guys in Peretz's unit.'
'Your name on it too?'
'Fuck you, policeman. Why you giving me all this shit?'
'If you want to help us out and you don't want to identify yourself, kindly drop your list to us in the mail.'
'Can't do that.'
'Why not?'
'You want the list or no?'
David thought a moment. 'Okay, I want the list.'
'Come to Anna Freud Garden. Givat Ram. Three this afternoon.'
'Wait a minute! I didn't say-'
'Don't stall, Bar-Lev. And come alone. Nobody else. Or you don't get the list.' He hung up.
'It's just a patch of bushes in the middle of the campus,' said Dov. Not isolated at all. At three o'clock there'll be a mob.'
'So what kind of a secret meeting place is that?' Micha asked.
'Suppose some kid comes up to David with a slip of paper. Go to X. Then go to Y. Treasure-hunt style. It would be tough to keep him covered.'
'Anna Freud-maybe he knows about your father,' Shoshana said.
'That's pretty sophisticated. This guy didn't sound like that.'
'Suppose he's for real?'
'Fine. We could use a list. And if he's faking, part of the conspiracy, we need to know that too.' They all looked at him. Dov seemed worried. 'What's he going to do?' David asked. 'Shoot me in the head?'
'I don't like it. All of a sudden like this. I mean, now we're way past Peretz.'
'But we've been working on a list. Word could have gotten around. We know details on the marks have gotten out. Listen-I know if I don't go we'll kick ourselves tomorrow. So I go. Okay? Everyone agrees?'
He waited in the Anna Freud Garden from a quarter of three. The sun was hot and the bullet-proof vest they'd urged him to wear was uncomfortable and made him sweat. Students lay about on blankets sunbathing, talking, several couples kissing, a few actually reading books. By five he'd had it. He got up, shook his head and stalked off. He met Micha and Dov in the parking lot.
'It was a test, David. To see if you'd show up alone.'
'Could be. Hundreds of windows around. I could have been easily observed. Or maybe it was just a stunt. So to hell with it! Guy calls back, I don't want to talk to him. Then we'll see how bad he wants me. Next time he can sweat.'
At ten that evening he was listening to one of Anna's records, an old Pierre Fournier recording, when his telephone rang. It was the same caller. 'You walked out on me.'
'Fuck you,' David said, and hung up.
When the phone rang again he sat watching it, letting the rings penetrate the music, echo against the apartment walls. Finally, after fifteen rings, he picked it up. 'Yeah? What do you want?'
'Sorry. Got held up. No way to get in touch.'
'No big deal. Forget it.'
'Don't you want the list? I can give it to you tonight.'
'Call my office in the morning. Work it out with someone else.'
'Wait! I'm serious.'
'Funny, I don't think you are.'
'Give me another chance.'
'Tell me: Why do you care so much?'
'When we meet I'll tell you everything. Then you'll understand.' A pause. 'I know you're not afraid, Bar-Lev. What have you got to lose?'
'My sleep.'
'Oh come on…' There was something coaxing in the man's voice this time, taunting too, that went beyond mere toughness and made him curious.
'How about a cafe on Ben Yehuda?'
'Uh uh. The Biblical Zoo.'
'They lock up at sunset.'
'You're a cop. The guard'll let you in.'
'What about you?'
'I'll be there.'
'So, are you a cop too?'
'Come alone, Bar-Lev. Midnight by the leopard's cage. If I don't show up within ten minutes, go home. Forget me. You'll know I'm just a fake.'
Midnight by the leopard's cage-something appealingly melodramatic about that. Stupid, perhaps, to go alone, but even more stupid if anyone tried to harm him. The people who'd done the killings were certain to know that they couldn't stop an investigation by murdering the officer in charge.
Still, he put on the sweaty bullet-proof vest, tucked his Beretta in his belt, and, on his way out, stopped, went back, and picked up an extra clip.
The Biblical Zoo was in Romema, only a twelve-minute drive across the city that time of night. Here were collected all the animals mentioned in the Bible, each cage bearing an appropriate quotation: 'He shall come as an eagle against the house of the Lord'; 'Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?' He knew the place well, had taken Hagith there many times. A good refuge from the noise of the city, a nice quiet place to spend a Sabbath afternoon.
He circled the zoo, noted that in some places its exterior fence would not be difficult to breach. On one side shanties were built right up against it. On another he saw tears and holes.
This, he decided, would be his way in-no reason to use the entrance and alert the guard. He parked, armed his car alarm, walked slowly back to a place where he'd spotted a rip in the lower part of the fence. It was eleven- thirty. He looked both ways, then crouched, spread the fencing, and crawled in on his belly, being careful not to scratch his head or back.
He made his way cautiously into the park. The ground was sandy, the foliage dry. He caught the sharp smell of wild animals, then began to hear strange noises, bleats and howls ('The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb…'), squeals and hoots of exotic birds, and an occasional serpent's hiss.
The leopard's cage was between the bears and the storks, beside the pit that contained the lions. A popular place in the zoo. There were wooden benches before it erected under trees. A concrete path wound among the cages. Faint light cast from street lamps across the road filtered through the dusty leaves.
He chose the darkest most shadowed bench, quietly took a seat. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he tried to familiarize himself with the many sounds around. He differentiated among the grunts of the animals, the traffic, and the low-level background noise of late-night Jerusalem. After a while he felt confident he would be able to tell if anyone approached.
Eleven-fifty. There was a disturbance up the hill behind him between the beavers and baboons. The animals up there had suddenly turned silent. David froze, his body tensed. When he first heard the ping against the railing two feet to his right he thought someone had thrown a pebble or a stone. Then, a split-second later, when he heard it again he knew what it was, leapt off the bench, and dove face-first for the ground.
Pffm-pffm! Pffm-pffm! The sound of a Beretta. 22, armed with a silencer, fired in rapid double bursts the way they taught trainees at the intelligence schools. As he crawled off the concrete walk into the trees, he knew there
