“ That’s right.”
“ Me too,” Elie said. “Join us, help us operate discriminately.”
“ Me?” Itah seemed intrigued rather than outraged. “I’ve been a TV reporter my whole adult life. What could I possibly do for you?”
“ A lot of good. My plans include a media department, designated to deal with the global news and communications organizations vis-a-vis their anti-Semitic and anti-Israel agenda. You possess the skills to successfully run that department.”
“ I’m not into killing people.”
“ You can be the voice of reason. A leader of the alternative to physical elimination, which is a last resort anyhow. There are tremendous advantages in converting foes into friends, if possible.”
“ The term Counter Final Solution implies mass extermination. It suggests killing, not kissing and making up.”
“ If we can make supporters out of powerful enemies, what could be better?”
“ Okay.” Her dismissive hostility was gone, replaced by journalistic curiosity. “Is that part of your plan or something you just came up with to woo me?”
“ Can you blame me for trying to turn you into a partner in the most exciting Jewish enterprise in our history?”
“ Rather than exterminate me?”
“ That’s not an option,” Elie lied. “We need an expert like you, capable of assessing the virility of mass communication personalities in various countries. You’ll serve as director of the global media department. You’ll apply the Counter Final Solution doctrine to journalists, authors, and entertainers. If the killing of an anti-Semitic demagogue could be avoided by converting him into a pro-Israel voice, then we gain twice!”
“ That’s a pipe dream.” Itah’s forehead creased, and she glanced at Abraham, who said nothing. She fixed her shoulder-length silver hair behind her ears. “No one has ever tried something like that.”
“ But you see the potential, yes?”
She nodded and shrugged simultaneously.
“ Then help us change history!”
“ To achieve this on a global basis would be prohibitively expensive. You’ll need a huge staff of analysts ready to digest mountains of data, translators versed in every language, powerful computers connected to every media outlet, and agents on the ground in every country who are familiar with local culture and academic activities.”
“ Go on.”
“ And you’ll need to buy off insiders, enlist them as pens-for-hire.”
“ Kind of intellectual moles?”
“ Yes, major talents, capable of redirecting the political, religious, and emotional tone of newsmakers and scholars from anti-Israel to pro-Israel, from anti-Jewish to pro-Jewish, from warmongering to reconciliation. It’s an enormous undertaking.”
“ But it’s possible.” Elie looked up at Itah, who stood up in excitement.
“ In theory, anything is possible!” She laughed. “But in reality-”
“ We’ll need someone with extensive media expertise?”
“ Of course.”
“ With creativity and vision?”
“ Naturally.”
“ With guts and big balls. Someone like you?”
“ Yeah, right!” Itah dropped into the chair. “It’s a pipe dream.”
“ Why?”
“ Because it would cost more money than God has!”
“ How much?”
“ I don’t know.” She was smart enough to know he was teasing her, but she couldn’t resist the challenge. “A billion dollars, okay?”
“ Is that your best estimate?”
“ No, it’s my wild guess.”
“ But you believe that you could do the job if this kind of money was available?”
“ Oh, sure. If you give me a billion dollars, I’ll build a media department for your Counter Final Solution that will change the tone of every news outlet. Israel would be more popular than Mother Theresa, okay?”
“ Funny how things work out,” Elie said. “A billion dollars is the exact budget I’ve allocated for the media department in my five-year plan.” He extended his bony hand to Itah. “Partners?”
After a brief hesitation, Itah shook his hand. “You really have that kind of money?”
“ A lot more,” Elie said. “Welcome aboard.”
Rabbi Gerster clapped his hands. “You’re still the master,” he said to Elie. “I’m impressed.”
*
Lemmy stopped at a sporting goods store on the outskirts of Jerusalem and bought three baseball caps, three windbreakers, and three pairs of sunglasses, all in different colors. He followed road signs to Hadassah Hospital, which occupied a vast mountainside compound southwest of Jerusalem. Parking the Fiat in an overflow lot across the main road, he put on a yellow windbreaker, a matching cap, and sunglasses. He carried a blue set in a plastic bag.
The information desk was handling a long line. Eventually his turn came.
“ I’m looking for a relative,” Lemmy said. “She was admitted a couple of days ago, but we only got word this morning-”
“Last name?”
“Weiss.”
The woman punched a few keys and looked at her computer screen. “Her first name?”
“Esther.” Lemmy lowered his sunglasses and leaned forward to get a good view of the screen. “Esther Weiss.”
She ran her finger down the list. “Don’t have her. Did you check the Hadassah campus at Mount Scopus?”
“Not yet.” Lemmy saw the name on the screen: Weiss, Elie – Room 417. “Thanks.”
“Next!”
Lemmy headed toward the exit, circled the vast lobby, and found the gift shop. He selected a large bouquet and a get-well card, which he addressed to Auntie Esther.
*
“ Billions of dollars?” Rabbi Gerster returned Elie’s cold gaze without showing his anger. This was a dangerous moment, and the next step would determine whether he would ever see Lemmy again. “Have you finally put your hands on the Koenig fortune?”
Elie raised a finger to his lips, but Itah Orr didn’t miss it. “Who’s Koenig? What fortune?”
“Tanya gave you the ledger, but not an account number or a password.” The rabbi kept his voice even. “There’s no way you could reach that money without a mole inside the Hoffgeitz Bank.”
Rising from the chair, Elie said, “Let’s go inside. It’s too chilly for me.”
The rabbi blocked his way. “Answer me!”
“Yes,” Elie said. “I have people inside. So what?”
“You needed a young, bright, adaptable agent-someone similar to what I had been when you convinced me to infiltrate Neturay Karta, unknown, unattached, totally dedicated, and capable of climbing to the top, becoming a leader, and reaching through the wall of secrecy to grab Koenig’s funds.”
“ You know me too well.”
“ Such a mole had to look Aryan, speak German, and possess a flexible, sharp mind.”
“ Possibly,” said Elie.
“ Your candidate had to forgo his past life, forget his family and friends, and focus his whole life and future on this mission.”
“ In other words, an impossible criteria.”
“ Except for my son, who was a perfect fit.”
“Theoretically, yes.” Elie tried to squeeze by toward the glass door.
