Lemmy raised his hands and turned slowly.
The employee card that hung from the man’s neck meant that he was part of the hospital security team, not a trained secret agent. His protruding belly confirmed it. And what he did next proved him an amateur. “Come back up here!” He stomped his shoe on the landing. “One step at a time! And keep your hands in the air!”
“ What’s the problem?” Lemmy took the stairs one by one, getting closer. “I don’t understand. Is it illegal to take the stairs?”
“ Come on!” The gun was pointing up at the ceiling now, the finger straight forward, not threaded in the trigger slot. “Now, over there!” He turned his head to the doors. “Walk through!”
That brief interval, when the security man faced the doors, was enough for Lemmy to deliver a hard chop to the back of his head. He collapsed, and Lemmy caught him before he rolled down the stairs. The gun was a small- caliber Beretta, and he pocketed it together with a spare magazine he found clipped to the man’s belt.
A few slaps on the face, and the security guard came to.
“ Where’s the patient from four-seventeen?”
He shook his head.
Lemmy grabbed his hand and bent it backwards. “I’ll break it in five, four, three-”
“ In Haifa! They’re in Haifa!”
“ They?”
“ The rabbi and the woman. They took the patient.”
“ How do you know?”
“ The taxi driver is a regular here. He told Shin Bet. They’ll catch them-”
“ He drove them to Haifa?” Lemmy applied more pressure.
“ No! Please!” The man’s eyes turned to the door, praying for someone to show up.
“ Answer!”
“ To the YMCA in Jerusalem. They had a car there. They mentioned driving to Haifa-”
Holding the gun by the barrel, Lemmy knocked him unconscious.
On the way downstairs, he switched the yellow windbreaker and cap for the blue set. The ground-floor exit let him out on the side of the building. Pedestrians and car traffic seemed normal, and no one paid any attention to him. Across a large lawn was an outdoor cafeteria. He selected a seat that was partially hidden by the thick trunk of a eucalyptus tree yet provided a clear view of the main hospital entrance.
Moments later, a white Subaru with tinted windows and a few antennas stopped at the curb. The unconvincing nurse from room 417 emerged from the lobby, no longer smiling. She got in the rear seat. The security guard showed up soon after, pressing a pack of ice to the side of his head. He went around to the driver’s side and leaned over the window, which was partially open. After a short conversation, the Subaru departed.
Lemmy waited twenty minutes before walking over to his Fiat. He took the road toward Jerusalem.
*
They argued in hushed voices over what to do about Elie Weiss. Rabbi Gerster wanted to threaten Elie with exposure of his secret dealings, but Itah objected. In her investigative experience, subjects volunteered much more information out of vanity and for shock effect than under duress. And the more urgent task was to stop the staged assassination plan. “It’s political fraud on a grand scale!”
“ What about my son?”
“ Finding him must wait,” Itah argued. “We should focus on the Rabin deal first.”
“ I have a feeling the two are connected.”
“ Perhaps. But the Shin Bet has also been paying Freckles. I can’t wait to see Elie’s face when we tell him that Freckles plays both sides.”
“ Maybe he already knows. With double agents you’re never quite certain which side they really work for. It’s possible that Freckles’ first loyalty is to Elie. He could be taking Shin Bet’s money and feeding them lies from Elie.”
“ You think Elie has outsmarted the Shin Bet.”
“ We’ll soon find out.” Rabbi Gerster took a deep breath. Deferring to Itah was difficult after spending the past fifty years in Neturay Karta, where women were relegated to household duties and obeyed their learned husbands on all substantive decisions.
“ He’s been out there too long,” Itah said. “Let’s check on him.”
They found the balcony deserted. So was the bathroom.
“ He’ll be back.” Rabbi Gerster picked up the phone and asked for the international operator, who gave him the number for the Hoffgeitz Bank in Zurich. When a receptionist answered, he spoke German. “ Entschuldigen sie bitte. This is Herman von Klausovich from Bonn, general director of inter-governmental financial cooperation of the Federal Republic.”
“ Yes?”
“ I met one of your top executives at a conference in Vienna a couple of years ago, but I cannot remember his name. In his forties, very handsome-Aryan, if you get my gist, ja? ”
“ That would be our vice president, Herr Wilhelm Horch.”
“ Yes, that sounds right. Is he available?”
“ Unfortunately Herr Horch is away on a business trip. If you leave your number, I’ll have him call you.”
“ I’ll try again. Auf Wiedersehen. ” He hung up and turned to Itah. “Wilhelm Horch. That’s my son’s name.”
“ Wilhelm?”
“ I bet his wife calls him Lemmy.”
*
Traffic was heavy on Herzl Road, which led into Jerusalem through dense residential neighborhoods, none of which had existed when Lemmy had last lived in the city. On his right, a restaurant on the ground floor of an apartment building spilled tables and chairs onto the sidewalk, most of them occupied by families. He remembered one of his father’s sermons, given on the last Yom Kippur Lemmy had spent at home. Why was it, his father had asked, that every time the ancient kings of Israel had made peace with their enemies, the Bible went on to describe the elaborate feast that followed? The answer, according to Rabbi Gerster, was that feeding the body calmed the mind, including its fighting spirit. On Yom Kippur, on the other hand, fasting was designed to create a sense of urgency, intensifying reflection over one’s sins and prompting repentance. The memory made Lemmy realize how hungry he was. As the light changed and traffic began to flow, he noticed a parking spot and veered right.
He chose a table that allowed him an open view while a wall protected his back.
A short, dark-haired woman began shuttling plates, not bothering to take an order. The pita bread was warm and slightly singed. The pickles were salty and crisp. And the humus was garnished with olive oil, chickpeas, and toasted pine nuts. Lemmy swiped a healthy load with a folded slice of pita bread and bit into it. The rich taste literally made him sigh with pleasure.
She rushed over. “Everything okay?”
Lemmy’s mouth was full. He gave her a thumbs up.
She beamed and disappeared into the kitchen.
Lamb skewers came next, with couscous and chopped salad. He concluded with mint tea and baklava. While paying the bill, he asked her for directions to the YMCA.
*
Elie sat in a nearby park for a couple of hours. He enjoyed the unseasonal sun and watched a group of kids chase a ball. On his way back to the hotel, he paused occasionally to catch his breath and furtively search for suspicious persons lurking about. There was nothing but the usual bustle of Jerusalem on a busy afternoon.
When he returned to the suite, Rabbi Gerster and Itah Orr were watching a TV talk show, which pitted two Knesset members against each other. The raised voices and red faces were no surprise, but even the moderator seemed riled up when he asked the Likud MK: “Why is Netanyahu pouring oil on the fanatics’ fire? Does he also wish to see Yitzhak Rabin burned at the stake?”
“Your plan is working,” Rabbi Gerster said, pressing the remote control to lower the volume. “You must be proud.”
“Indeed.”
“I’m sorry for losing my temper.”
