The Hit

by Michal Hartstein

  I looked at the fresh grave with sadness, said my last goodbye to Koby and turned to leave.

  A young voice stopped me. "Excuse me, miss…"

  I turned back. It was Daphna.

  "Hadas," I smiled at her. "My name is Hadas."

  "Hadas." Daphna smiled and I suddenly noticed the strong resemblance between her and Koby. It was heart wrenching.

  "I heard what you said… earlier," she said.

  "Really? I didn’t see you."

  "We were standing in the back."

  "I understand you're Daphna, Koby’s daughter, God rest his soul."

  "Correct."

  I turned to Daphna’s mother. "And you’re his ex-wife?"

  "Yes. Tali Gold." She extended her hand in greeting.

  "It's nice to meet you."

  "Hadas," Tali spoke in a quiet voice, "we’d like to speak with you in a more private place. Can you spare us half an hour, maybe an hour?"

  "Yes, of course. Come to my office at the station; I’m on my way there now. Did you get here by car?"

  "No, we came by bus."

  "So come with me."

  Daphna sat in the back seat and Tali took the seat next to me. After fastening her seatbelt, she untied the black kerchief on her head and loosened her hair. I noticed white strands running through her splendid mane of thick, dark hair. This woman sitting next to me did not spend her time in beauty salons. She raised her hands and shook her hair out a little. Her hands were rough and calloused. I stared at them as though she was a freak show in the circus; her somewhat masculine hands did not fit her delicate and fragile looks. It was as if another person's hands had been implanted on her.

  "You have a green light." She woke me up. I continued driving, careful not to look at her or at her hands.

  When we arrived at the station, I was happy to find out that Alon had already left. I knew that the conversation with Tali and Daphna was not really necessary for continuing the investigation, but Alon himself had told me more than once that too much information was preferable to too little. The colleague with whom I shared my office was out on an investigation, as usual, so we could sit down and talk undisturbed.

  "Do you want anything to drink?" I asked before closing the door.

  "No, thank you," they answered together.

  "So. What did you want to talk to me about?" I asked, sitting across from them.

  "I wanted to know if what was reported in the paper was true." Tali looked straight at me. "Was Koby a police informer?"

  I smiled at her. "You don’t expect me to expose the details of a confidential investigation, right?"

  She inhaled deeply and said, "At the cemetery, I had the feeling that the newspaper report was true, and that you were Koby's operator. That was why you came to the funeral and approached the family like that."

  "Since you’re not familiar with the world of crime, you probably don't know that there’ll always be a police presence at the funerals of convicted felons, especially those with numerous convictions, or whose death occurred due to criminals settling accounts with each other. And, contrary to what people believe, we cops have a heart as well –"

  "To my great regret," she cut me off and laid her hand on her daughter's knees, "I am actually familiar with the world of crime. It was a brief acquaintance, imposed on me because I chose to believe Koby when we got married. I’m almost positive I’ve been to this station before at least once. I never told anyone about it. Not even Daphna." She looked at her daughter lovingly and continued. "I was brought in for questioning while I was still married to Koby."

  My curiosity was piqued. "Do you remember in connection with what?" I checked carefully.

  "Not really, mostly because I really didn't have a clue what he was up to. When I met him, I was very young, just graduated from high school. I was mature for my age, but definitely young and inexperienced. My parents warned me against him. They knew he had a criminal record and begged me to stay away from him, but the love between us was too strong, and I believed he’d leave the world of crime for my sake." Tali began to cry. Daphna bent over toward her and hugged her warmly.

  "I don't regret what I did. I loved Koby," continued Tali. She turned her flushed face toward her daughter and said in a voice that astonished me with its calmness: "I never stopped loving your father. But you know I wasn’t willing to live with his lifestyle." Daphna responded with a loving smile. "On principle, I always make an effort not to regret what I’ve done in my life, especially not in this case, when the prize I received is so amazing." She pointed her finger at Daphna, who blushed a little in response. "It should be said, to Koby's credit, that he tried, all those years, to be a part of our lives. I didn’t let him, not because I hated him, but because I loved him. I was always worried about him, and it turned out it was for a reason." She started crying again.

  Daphna asked, "Shall I get you some water?"

  "No, my sweetie, it's alright," she said and continued. "I wanted to live an honest, simple life. I don't need a luxury car, designer clothes or servants. I wanted to sleep well at night and he couldn’t give me that. My only condition for us to be a family was for him to stay away from crime. Unfortunately, this condition was too difficult for him. The more Daphna grew up, the harder it became for me. I was afraid for her life when she was with him and I was also concerned about her education. I admit those were the reasons I did everything to keep them apart." She looked at her daughter sadly. "I apologize, my sweet. Perhaps I shouldn’t have kept you away from your father like that; I felt I had to do it to protect you."

  "It's alright, Mother," whispered Daphna, "I’m not angry."

  "In any case," Tali turned to look at me, "what I’m trying to tell you here is that I want to know if I was wrong all those years… if I was wrong to keep Daphna away from her father because I thought he was a criminal, while, in fact, he may have been a policeman, or at least working with the police. This is what I want to know. I want to make amends. I owe it to myself, to my daughter, and mainly to Koby."

  She fell silent. I waited for her to continue talking, but she only stared at me with her huge blue eyes.

  I thought about Koby, about how much he had loved the woman and the girl who were now sitting opposite me. He would have given everything to turn back the clock and make different choices in his life. His daughter had been the only truly important thing for him. I knew they deserved it, and he, too – his memory – deserved that I volunteer some information.

  "I can tell you one thing. In all the years I’ve been a policewoman - okay, maybe not all that long - but, according to what I know, for many years before me, there was no one else who helped the police in the fight against organized crime like Koby Ozri."

  This dramatic statement opened up Daphna's floodgate. Now both of them were sitting across from me, sobbing excitedly and hugging each other.

  "Can you give any details?" asked Tali.

  "Regrettably, no. I’ve already said too much and I strongly ask you to keep it between us. The investigation’s still going on. I said what I said because of the great admiration I felt for Koby, and because I know how much he loved the two of you and how much the separation from you had hurt him."

  "I’m so sorry," sobbed Tali, caressing Daphna's shoulder.

  "You don't have to be sorry. Many family members prefer to cut themselves off from someone who’s turned to crime. Koby understood that. It hurt him, but he understood. In many instances, he himself kept his distance from you to keep you out of harm’s way. I don't want to reveal too many details, but Koby wasn’t a police informer all his life. He was an active criminal. He crossed the lines only in the last few years. Your choice was justified. On the other hand, I can tell you, to allow you to mourn him with love, that the good he did over the last few years exceeded the bad ten times over."

  "It's amazing." Tali smiled a bitter smile. "When I married him, I knew about his criminal record, but also saw his good side. I’m so glad that the good in him won ov
er the bad in the end."

  "But why didn't he come to us and tell us that he was, in fact, working with the police?" asked Daphna in a sad voice. "We could have enjoyed the last few years with him, at least."

  "But, that way, his identity would have been exposed," I explained.

  "It was exposed anyway," Tali sighed.

  CHAPTER 6

  Thursday, June 16, 2011

  The house of Moshe and Ilana Navon stood in the middle of a pastoral neighborhood in Hod Hasharon, an old-fashioned area of family homes, a sort of a village within a city. The buildings were not ostentatious or contemporary in style, but old, surrounded by well-cultivated gardens and crisscrossed by clean streets. It was the Israeli suburban dream.

  I arrived in the late morning, so as not to run into a crowd of mourners. A large obituary notice with Shirley's name on it covered the gate. I pushed it lightly and entered. The Navon family garden, like all the gardens in the neighborhood, was beautifully cultivated. A brick path divided the garden in two, leading from the gate to the entrance to the house; two large olive trees on the right were flanked by several herb bushes. On the other side was a garden table, four matching chairs and barbeque area. I imagined the Navon family celebrating Independence Day in the garden just a few weeks earlier. They had probably argued about politics or about the elimination of Osama Bin Laden. Now, all the arguments and all the stories would remain as dim memories of another life gone forever.

  Another obituary notice hung on the door. I peeked at it to see who the official family mourners were: parents and one brother. The door of the house was not open as is customary during a shiva, probably because of the heat outside. It was very hot. I knocked on the door lightly. Several seconds later, the door opened.

  "Shalom," said a tall, attractive young man. He spoke in a quiet voice and signaled me to enter. I nodded silently and entered the foyer.

  As I expected, the living room was not crowded with mourners. Moshe Navon was sitting on the sofa, leafing through a photo album. His eyes were red. Two young women were sitting on the other side of the room and talking in a whisper.

  "Did you come for Yoni?" asked the young man and looked at me with interest.

  "Yoni?"

  "Shirley's fiancé."

  "Ah." I smiled an embarrassed smile. "No. I’m Hadas Levinger from the Israel Police." I extended my hand to him.

  "Nice to meet you," he said solemnly, "I’m Ido, Shirley's brother. I didn’t recognize you, so I assumed you were from Yoni and Shirley's circle of friends."

  "First of all, I want to express my own sincere condolences for your terrible loss, and also on behalf of the Israel Police."

  "Thank you," he said. I noticed how his eyes, which had been dry, suddenly filled up with tears. I had noticed that whenever I expressed my sorrow in the name of the State, it stirred up strong emotions. I found it difficult to understand. I had never gotten too excited during the ceremonies for Holocaust Memorial Day, or the Memorial Day for the fallen soldiers of Israel’s wars, while people around me were emotionally drained. It was interesting. Was it something about the formality of it that evoked emotion in most people?

  "May I speak to your parents?"

  "Yes, sure." He wiped his wet eyes with his hand and signaled me to follow him into the living room.

  "Dad," he stood by his father, who was still immersed in the photo album, "there's someone from the police here."

  Moshe broke away from the album and looked at me through red eyes. He did not need my condolences in the name of the Police and the State in order to shed tears. He rose slowly from the sofa and walked away without saying a word to me. A few moments later he returned to the living room accompanied by a short woman, his wife, Ilana. It appeared that the mourning had made her even smaller. Ilana stood despondently by Moshe, looking like she had not slept for long days. Two pairs of red eyes looked at me and awaited my statement. It was not the first time I had faced people who had lost someone most dear to them. However, this time it was especially difficult for me. I felt I was in mourning as well. Perhaps it was actually a sense of guilt. Had I not activated Koby, he would not have been eliminated, and Shirley would not have become an unfortunate victim.

  "I share in your sorrow," I said, almost in a whisper. The official version slipped my memory.

  "Thank you," said Ilana softly. It was apparent that her husband was making a great effort not to burst out at me. "Do you want to sit down?"

  "Yes, if possible. Perhaps we could talk in a more private place?"

  "Certainly." She led us to another of the rooms inside the house.

  "It’s important for me to clarify," I said right after we sat down in a room serving as a guest bedroom, "that my visit is a regular, mandatory procedure. Since you’re sitting shiva, I’ve come to your home. However, I must question you, since your daughter was a fatality in a criminal incident. At present, we’ve no reason to suspect that your daughter was connected to the reason for it. In our estimation, she happened to be at the crime scene by accident –"

  "I really want to understand!" Moshe could not restrain himself any longer. He spoke angrily. "How can innocent citizens walk safely in the streets when these crime gangs behave as if there’s no law and no justice? We live in a country with enough security issues. We'll eventually get to a state when we simply won't be able to leave the house. I -"

  Ilana cut him off. "Moshe," she spoke to him in the same soft tone, "You’re right, but this nice policewoman isn’t responsible for all the country's problems. She came here to do her job. Let her talk."

  Moshe breathed heavily. The tears of sorrow were now just a glint in his eyes.

  "I’ve no way to describe how sorry I am for your loss," I continued. "Believe it or not, I think exactly like you. I wish we could do more. In order to bring the murderer to justice, we must catch him first. Unfortunately, cases like these involve highly professional people; it’s very hard to catch them. However, when they’re caught, they’re generally put away for a long time."

  "And what about the people who send them?" asked Ilana.

  "This is a lot harder to prove, but here, too, sometimes we manage to get to the most senior individuals."

  "So. What do you want to ask us?" asked Moshe impatiently.

  "As I said, we have to question you. I truly hope it won’t be necessary to bother you to come to the station at the end of the shiva. I’ll only ask you about Shirley, and I apologize in advance if they upset you. It’s a necessary part of the procedure in a murder investigation."

  They nodded and I continued. "Tell me a little about Shirley."

  "Shirley was an amazing young woman," Ilana burst into a monolog. "She's our second child, she has an older brother, Ido - you met him at the door. She was always a beautiful, smart girl. She was an Infantry instructor in the Army, commanded scores of men, and it was there that she met Yoni Shapira, who became her fiancé. She was supposed to receive a certificate of merit from the president on Independence Day, but she was discharged a month before Independence Day, and they gave the certificate to someone else."

  "Well done," I said. "When was she discharged?"

  "A little over four years ago. After the Army, she traveled with Yoni to South America for a year. When they returned, they registered for their academic studies. They were both about to finish their third year, Yoni in medicine and she in economics and accounting."

  "She was a student?"

  "You sound surprised," Moshe said in an offended tone of voice.

  "Not surprised, but I was wondering about it as there’s no campus near the scene of the incident, and, to our understanding, she had arrived at the scene to pick up her lunch."

  "Shirley attended Tel-Aviv University," explained Ilana. "The course she chose included an option for taking summer semesters, so she simply took courses earlier and progressed faster. She was well organized; she wanted to be hired by one of the most prestigious accounting firms in the country next year, and it was impo
rtant to her to start work ahead of time, so she could demonstrate experience in bookkeeping. She’d been told that the public accountants in the large firms don’t have sufficient knowledge in bookkeeping."

  "She was on the Dean's list in the first two years, even though she crammed her schedule with more courses than any other student in those years," added Moshe with pride. Ilana nodded in agreement.

  "We’re very proud of her," she said and wiped her nose. "In any case, this year she had a lot more time for working and also for studying. She and Yoni got engaged and moved in together, and it was another incentive for her to work. Less than a year ago, I think, she started bookkeeping for Panda."

  "The cellular company?"

  "Yes, they’re not far from the place where the murder took place."

  "I know," I said. It was impossible to miss the huge sign of the country's largest cellular company. "What did she tell you about her work?"

  "Not too much," said Ilana.

  "I think she was very satisfied there, and they were also very satisfied with her," added Moshe immediately.

  "You exaggerate a little." Ilana smiled. "Moshe adored Shirley - we all adored her - and I’ve no doubt she was very successful in her work. But she was too busy to tell us much about it, and, in any case, we could never understand what she was talking about. I’m a Literature teacher and Moshe has a carpentry shop, so our only connection to the financial world are the tax receipts we hand over each month to Moshe's accountant."

  "What can you tell me about her fiancé?"

  "Yoni?" Ilana asked, as if her daughter had been engaged to several men.