with me.”
“You don’t need my work. I know what you really want.”
“Whatever it is, you have no choice.”
“But I do.” Tanya opened the door. “I have records of interesting conversations between the UN observers on a certain Friday afternoon. There was a shooting. The bullets barely missed Abraham.”
“It happens. The Jordanian soldiers get bored.”
“According to the UN observers, the shooter was sitting on a roof on the Israeli side of the border. They got a pretty good description of him. A smallish guy in a beggar’s cloak. They didn’t miss the prominent nose.”
He chuckled, touching his nose.
“Keep yours out of my business, and I’ll keep mine out of yours. If you try to force me to work for you, I’ll share the information with my colleagues. They would like nothing better than to investigate you. Verstehen Sie mich? ”
“I understand.” Elie knew there was no point in lying to her. Perhaps a dose of openness would work better. “It’s all part of the plan. Religious fanatics love miracles. These Neturay Karta men saw God interfere to save their rabbi from the sniper. They revere Abraham even more now, which helps him do his job, control them, prevent a repeat of our sad history.”
“History doesn’t repeat itself.”
“But Ecclesiastes said: What happened then shall happen again, and what was done then shall be done again, for there’s nothing new under the sun. And as you have correctly guessed, what I wanted back then, I still want.”
“Elie Weiss speaks honestly?” Tanya closed the door. “I’m shocked.”
“Do you still have the ledger?”
“Let’s drive. I hate to travel by bus.”
Leaving Tel Aviv behind, they crossed open fields and passed by the airport. The road dropped into a wide valley, approaching the Judean Mountains and a thick layer of clouds. He took his time gathering enough resolve to speak openly to her.
“The wealth,” he said, “which General Klaus von Koenig deposited in Switzerland, was Jewish property. You spent four years with him, so you know how he collected all those precious stones and jewelry.”
She nodded.
“The dead Jews are gone. They’ll never reclaim it. But Israel is their moral heir. Imagine what we could accomplish with such a fortune.”
“You’re right. I’ll hand over Klaus’s ledger to the Ministry of the Treasury.”
Finally! She admitted to possessing the ledger! Elie knew he had to speak the truth, or her sudden openness would vanish for another twenty years. “In the hands of the government the money will come to nothing. They’ll waste it, pay more bureaucrats. We must use this fortune, which came from the Holocaust, to prevent another Holocaust.”
“How?”
“A formidable, global network of trained agents to monitor Arab leaders and sympathizers, weapon scientists and arms dealers, and those who finance the war against the Jews. We will eliminate our enemies before they manage to hurt us!”
“You’re right,” Tanya said. “I’ll hand it over to the prime minister on the condition that the money is earmarked for Mossad and Shin Bet.”
Elie downshifted and veered to the shoulder, where a convoy of vehicles was assembling for the last leg of the trip to Jerusalem, the steep climb up the mountains, where the slow pace of travel provided easy targets for the Arabs. He glanced at Tanya. Was she teasing him? Rage blurred his eyesight. He should draw his father’s shoykhet blade and put it to her throat. But the car came to a stop, the wind disappeared from the open window, and he smelled her delicate perfume. Truth was, he could never bring himself to hurt Tanya Galinski.
He lit a Lucky Strike and drew deeply, holding the smoke for a long moment. “Why are you toying with me?”
“A taste of your own medicine?”
The convoy began to move, and a truck ahead of them spewed a cloud of sooty fumes. Elie drove faster, changing gears to accelerate past the truck.
“You want that fortune,” she said, “as leverage for more power.”
“Power to defend our people. I will prevent another Holocaust.”
“You alone?”
He ignored her sarcastic tone. “I can do a better job than those desk people, who lack the stomach for action. We’re at war, and the world is our battlefield. I’ll get results!”
Tanya looked at him, saying nothing.
“You can work with me as an equal partner, apply your field experience to commanding an international army of agents. You’ll be the most powerful woman in Israel, maybe in the world.”
“I’m happy at Mossad.”
Elie didn’t tell her of his plan to become chief of Mossad, as well. She would find out in due time, become his subordinate, and despite her hostility, she would end up admiring him. “I’ll split the money with you.”
“I don’t need money.” She loosened her hair and retied it in a bun. “But there’s something else I need.”
Was she offering a trade? A dip in the road caused the car to sway from side to side. Elie struggled to control it.
“Abraham’s son deserves a chance for a normal life.”
Even though her words were uttered without intonation or dramatic gesticulations, Elie knew Tanya had just allowed him a peek into her innermost passion. “Why would he want a normal life? He’s a black hat, lives the good life in Neturay Karta, studies with his friends all day, not a worry in the world. He doesn’t know any better.”
“He does now.”
“So?”
“Tell Abraham to let him go.”
Elie considered this unexpected development. “It won’t be easy. He’s counting on the boy to get married, become a great Talmudic scholar, a leader in the sect.”
“Abraham will obey you.”
The incline slowed down the Deux Chevaux. Elie downshifted to maintain momentum. “What will you do with-what’s his name?”
“Jerusalem. I want him free of their insular religious extremism.”
“He was born into it.”
“And you were born in a kosher butcher shop in a shtetl on the eastern border of Germany. I don’t see you pursuing your birthright.”
“Abraham won’t like it.”
“I want the boy to leave the sect, enlist in the army like any young Israeli, and go on to study in the university. He’ll be a doctor, a scientist, a businessman. He has a good mind.”
“The IDF might decline to draft a religious fanatic.”
“You could pull some strings.”
“I could.” Elie threw the cigarette out the window.
“The day he starts boot camp, I’ll give you Klaus’s ledger.”
Elie downshifted to second gear. The engine struggled uphill, the noise an effective masquerade for the joy in his voice. “How do I know you won’t cross me?”
“I’m not like you.”
“Would you prove your good intentions by telling me the name of the bank?”
“The Hoffgeitz Bank of Zurich. Armande Hoffgeitz signed the ledger as the bank’s president. He and Klaus-”
“Attended boarding school together at Lyceum Alpin St. Nicholas.”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“Information is my business.” Since that night near the Swiss border, Elie had investigated General Klaus von Koenig’s personal history in detail. As a teenager, Klaus had been sent by his parents from Munich to the most
