The Hit

by Michal Hartstein

  Shirley had been engaged to a guy named Yoni, a medical student. I found his phone number among the papers I had kept from the conversation with Shirley’s parents.

  "Hello?" he answered with all the suspicion of someone answering an unrecognized number.

  "Am I speaking with Yoni Shapira?"

  "Yes. Who am I speaking with?"

  "Hadas Levinger, Israel Police. I’m calling in connection with your fiancée’s murder."

  "What?" he sounded confused.

  "First of all, I wanted to ask how you are."

  "How am I?" he sighed. "Lousy… that’s the truth."

  "I’m really sorry to hear that."

  We were silent for a moment.

  "I’d like to set up a meeting with you, if possible, here at the station." I broke the silence.

  "Why?"

  "It’s just regular procedure with the families of the victims of criminal incidents. Since the two of you lived together, I’m certain you can enlighten us."

  "What’s there to enlighten you about? She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

  "This is definitely the direction of the investigation," I lied. "Nevertheless, we must rule out any other possibilities. Besides, as I said, it’s entirely routine."

  "And you've only now remembered it?"

  "I really apologize. We've been under enormous pressure, which is why we haven’t gotten to you earlier. There’s a small breakthrough in the investigation. In my opinion, you’ll want to hear it."

  He was silent for a moment, then said, "I have a gigantic exam tomorrow at noon. Let’s set it up for Wednesday."

  "Can you make it tomorrow, after the exam?"

  "Is it that urgent?"

  "I’ve already set up a meeting with someone else on Wednesday." I lied again. "It’s better to get it done."

  "Fine. But it’ll have to be late. The exam starts at noon, and it’s long."

  "When can you get here?"

  "Around seven."

  The next stop in the new line of investigation was the Panda Cellular Company, Shirley’s workplace. I entered the building, which strove to convey a state-of-the-art, high-tech ambiance. I had not set up a meeting with anybody in the company. I wanted to gauge the employees’ reactions to my unexpected visit. The first to be surprised was, of course, the receptionist. She stared at my police badge as if I had laid a bomb in front of her and asked her to defuse it. After a few moments, she came to her senses and said she would call Human Resources. Several minutes later, a woman in a suit arrived in the reception area and invited me to go upstairs with her to the Administration floor. We entered a small conference room and she asked me to wait. I used the time to look around. It was obvious that a lot of thought had gone into the room’s design. The furniture had clean lines and the lampshades above the long table were yellow, the color of the company’s logo.

  While I was grading Panda’s interior designers, a pretty, fortyish woman entered the room. She smiled heartily and handed me a good quality, yellow business card.

  It read: Orna Chen, Vice President of Human Resources and Administration.

  I scrutinized the depths of my handbag till I found the small holder that held my business cards. I took out a crumpled card and handed it to her.

  "Hadas," she said. "How can I help you?"

  "I’m here in connection with the death of Shirley Navon."

  "A terrible thing…."

  "Absolutely."

  "I don’t know if you heard about it, but Panda intends to establish a fund in her name for youths at risk."

  "That's commendable."

  "This terrible case has shaken up the entire company here. We’ve decided to try to tackle the root of the problem, and help youths at risk before they enter the cycle of crime."

  "It's a great idea."

  "Thank you. It won’t bring Shirley back to us, but it’ll give us a sense of doing something."

  "Did you know Shirley personally?"

  She smiled, embarrassed. "Look, here at Panda headquarters, we have about 250 employees. Of course, I don’t know everybody, but I definitely remember Shirley’s face."

  "In which department did she work?"

  "Finance."

  "Can you be a little more specific? It must be quite a big department."

  "Right - forty employees. At the top, there’s the C.F.O.. Under him there are five controllers, and, under each controller, there are a number of people as needed. There’s the Payroll Controller, Customer Relations Controller, Supplier Relations Controller, a controller in charge of contact with the banks, and a controller in charge of the financial reports and the Stock Exchange reports."

  "And where did Shirley work within that structure?"

  "She was under the Suppliers Section."

  "What did she do there, exactly?"

  "You’ll have to ask those who worked with her. I’m not that much of an expert. I can only tell you that she started here about ten months ago, and those in charge of her were very satisfied with her work. Her death was a shock for everybody."

  "I’m sure. Losing a young employee in such a tragic manner is quite a shock."

  "Right."

  "I’ll want to talk with the people who worked with her. Are they here today?"

  "I imagine they are. May I ask why?"

  "What do you mean?" I played dumb. "It concerns the murder investigation."

  "I know. But as far as I understand from the media, she simply had atrociously bad luck."

  "It doesn’t matter what they say in the media. We examine all avenues," I said formally. Orna stared at me, her eyes wide open. "It’s a part of the investigation protocol." I tried to alleviate her astonishment.

  "Yes, of course," she nodded as if she knew by heart the entire investigation protocol of the Israel Police. "How do you want to do this? Do you need a special room, or will you go through the offices?"

  "I must have private conversations. It’s an official interrogation."

  "I understand. Where do you want to start?"

  "The controller who was Shirley’s direct supervisor."

  "No problem. Do you want me to call him to come here?"

  "No. I’ll go to his office. If it turns out we’d be better off here, we’ll come back."

  The Finance Department dominated the entire seventh floor of the building.

  "Only the department personnel and authorized employees are allowed to enter this floor," explained Orna, running her company ID through a small security device at the entrance door.

  The offices on the seventh floor were somewhat dull compared with the conference room. The design was similar, but somewhat tired-looking. The people on this floor also looked different from the ones I saw on the Administration floor. If I had to define their clothing style, the first word that would come to my mind would be "comfy." People walked around in flat shoes, jeans and comfortable shirts, without unnecessary accessories. I blended in quite well, while Orna looked like a tourist. She led me to the office of Guy Ditzman - according to the sign on the door. Orna knocked gently on the closed door and opened it slightly without waiting for a response.

  Two people were sitting in the room, a man and a woman. It looked like we had interrupted them in the middle of a meeting. I scrutinized them quickly. According to their attire, they did not belong on that floor. I assumed that Guy regularly attended meetings, due to his position, and therefore had to dress smartly. As for the woman, I assumed she was the representative of an important supplier.

  "Guy, may I interrupt you for a few minutes?" Orna opened the door so that Guy could see me too.

  "Is it important?"

  "Yes."

  Guy sighed and asked the woman sitting with him to get back to him later. From the tone of his voice, I now realized that she worked for him. I found it intriguing. She was very well groomed, starting with her shiny, high-heeled shoes and the dress that complimented her shapely figure, right up to her hair, which was expensively colored and
styled. It seemed that not all the employees on the seventh floor were committed to the comfy dress code.

  "Hi, Orna," said the woman to Orna before leaving the room.

  Orna smiled a phony smile and closed the door. She smiled at Guy with embarrassment. "I hate to admit it… remind me, please - what’s her name?"

  "Sigal Elad."

  "Ah, she probably started working here before me, that’s why I don’t remember her."

  "Yes. She’s been here even longer than me," Guy laughed. "She started here, oh, fifteen years ago."

  "Wow, almost since the company was established."

  "Right."

  "Remind me, what’s her position?"

  "She’s a controller's assistant, Suppliers Section."

  "She worked with Shirley Navon, didn’t she?"

  "Yes."

  "This is exactly why we’re here. Let me introduce Inspector Hadas Levinger of the Israel Police."

  "Hadas is fine," I smiled.

  Guy shook my hand and signaled us to sit down.

  "So Hadas, how can I help you?"

  "First of all, I’d like to understand Shirley’s position with the company."

  "So here it is. We brought Shirley in for a temporary project in mid-2010. It was because the Tax Authority had issued a regulation requiring us to set up a unified reporting system on a monthly basis, starting in January 2010. I won’t get you entangled in all the specifics, but the technical implication was that we needed help to verify that all the licensed dealer numbers of our suppliers and customers were defined accurately in the system. At first, we thought we could handle the new regulation with the existing manpower, but after several inaccurate reports, we decided to hire an employee to be in charge of it. Even though we’d designated Shirley for a temporary position, we soon realized that she was an excellent employee and that was why she stayed on."

  "What did she do once that project was completed?"

  "She was in charge of unified reporting each month. Indeed, there wasn't as much work as there’d been at the beginning of the project, but each month there were aberrations that had to be taken care of. She knew the system better than anybody else. Moreover, she helped Shai Hakim as well as Sigal Elad - the woman who was sitting here when you came in."

  "What are their responsibilities?"

  "Shai is a very experienced bookkeeper, who deals mainly with receiving material from various suppliers. Sigal, who’s also a bookkeeper by training, is considered a controller's assistant because of her seniority and because her work’s ranked somewhat higher. She deals with adjustments and payments to suppliers."

  "Is Shai here today?"

  "I think so… let me check," said Guy and called the department secretary.

  I took my leave of Orna, and Guy accompanied me to the offices of Shai and Sigal. Shai was sitting in an open space of six workstations. His workstation was the farthest away. When I came closer to his workstation, my attention was drawn to a large, framed picture hung on the wall attached to the workstation. It was Shirley's picture. The inscription on the picture read:

  We will remember forever.

  Finance Department members, the Panda Company.

  Shai was a gawky guy of about thirty-five. He was engrossed in keying numbers on his calculator. Only when we were right next to him did he notice us and break away from the calculator.

  "Shalom," he said, surprised.

  "Shai, how are you?" asked Guy pleasantly.

  "Everything's alright…" Shai said tentatively.

  Guy smiled. "Don't worry, everything’s alright. I’m sorry to interrupt you like this in the middle of your work - I know you’re very busy, as usual, but you’ll have to take a short break."

  Guy looked at me. "Do you want to sit with him over here?" he whispered.

  "No. I can't speak with him in this open space. We should go back to the conference room on the top floor," I whispered back.

  "Do you know where the small conference room on the Administration floor is?" he asked Shai.

  "Yes."

  "Can you go up there for a brief meeting?"

  "Concerning what?" Shai asked with concern.

  "An audit by the authorities," Guy said, to my relief. I didn't want all the employees in the room to know that I was a policewoman.

  "Do I need to bring anything? Issue card indexes?"

  "Not at this stage," I put in. "These are general questions."

  "No problem," he said in the tone of someone used to audits. "I’m just in the middle of a report. I’ll be finished within half an hour, and I’ll come up."

  "Excellent," I said.

  We went from Shai's workstation to Sigal's office.

  Guy told me that most of the company's controllers' assistants shared an office with another employee or two. Sigal, however, was a very experienced and esteemed employee, which was why she had her own office. This was better - we could stay in her office.

  "Where did Shirley sit?" I wondered as we approached her office.

  "She worked in the open space we just left. To the best of my memory, her workstation was one of those closer to the entrance."

  I asked him to show me her workstation after I was done with the round of questioning.

  Sigal's office was actually a very small room. I tried to recall the size of my bathroom, and doubted if Sigal's room was much bigger.

  "Sigal?" Guy knocked gently on Sigal's open door. She raised her head toward us and smiled broadly.

  "Yes?" she asked with curiosity while her fingers moved skillfully over the keyboard.

  "May I interrupt you for a few minutes?"

  "You can always interrupt me," she answered flirtatiously.

  Guy chuckled with unconcealed pleasure. "I’d like to introduce Hadas. She's from the Israel Police."

  I did not notice any change in Sigal's expression. She was not surprised or scared. "Hadas needs to ask you a few questions in connection with Shirley's murder," Guy said and hurried to add, "God rest her soul."

  Sigal made a face. "How come? What's our connection to the story? I thought she was an accidental victim."

  "Just procedure," I said dryly and moved one of the chairs. "May I sit down?" I asked and sat down while Sigal was nodding.

  "Do you need me here?" asked Guy.

  "No. If you could just make sure the conference room’s available and Shai gets there…"

  "No problem," he said, went out and closed the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 16

  "So, you're a longtime employee of Panda," I said to Sigal, who continued to type diligently.

  "Yes," she said without raising her eyes from the computer. "Excuse me for a second. I have to complete this payment order. If I stop in the middle, I’ll have to start over."

  "Okay."

  "You can talk to me," she smiled. "I’m not doing anything complicated. I can listen at the same time."

  "Good. As you know, I’m investigating Shirley Navon's death. Guy told me she worked with you."

  "She worked mainly with Shai Hakim, but she started working with me, too, about four months ago."

  "What can you tell me about her?"

  "A very smart girl. Studying accounting at the university - so sad -"

  "Were the two of you close?" I cut her off.

  Sigal raised her head and looked at me. "The truth is, we weren't. She was a really a lovely girl, but we were in different phases in life. She was a young student enjoying life in Tel-Aviv, while I’m a mother of four from Ramat Hasharon." I smiled at her, and she finally let out the burning question that had aroused the curiosity of every person I had met in the last hour.

  "Excuse me for asking, but –"

  "I assume you want to know why I’m interviewing you. As I said, it’s routine procedure. In the course of a murder investigation, I need to interrogate all the people close to each victim. One can never know who was an accidental victim, and who was not," I said, and scrutinized her face. Under the layer of makeup, I noticed a
look of surprise.

  "You think Shirley wasn’t an accidental victim?"

  "I didn't say that. I said one can never know."

  "If that’s the case, it’d be the weirdest story in the world."

  "Why?"

  "Why would anybody want to hurt a sweet girl like Shirley?"

  "I thought you didn't know her very well?"

  "I knew her well enough to find it hard to believe that anything like that would happen to her."

  "Okay. Let's move forward. Can you please explain to me in simple terms what Shirley did for you, exactly?"

  "Did anybody explain to you the structure of our financial system?

  "More or less."

  "I belong to the Suppliers Section, and the crux of my duties is actually treasury management. I prepare payments to the suppliers. Since it concerns the banks, I also work with the controller in charge of working with the banks on anything associated with bank adjustments."

  "It sounds complicated."

  "Only for someone who doesn’t understand. Believe me, it's not complicated work. The ones who complicate it are all the people in the middle."

  "What does that mean?"

  "The activity that ends with a payment to the supplier begins, in fact, with a user in the company. Suppose there's an engineer who needs certain components for his work. He opens up an order. The order’s transferred to the Acquisitions Department. Acquisitions pass a quote from the supplier to the engineer. If the quote’s approved, the Acquisition personnel order the components from the supplier. The supplier ships the components with the tax invoice for approval. After the approval, the payment’s transferred to the supplier according to our terms, which are usually current plus 60 days."

  "I admit I'm a little lost. Can you explain to me where the problem is?"

  "The problem derives from an age-old company policy, according to which, whoever initiated the deal must approve the tax invoice. What happens in reality is that, more than once, invoices haven’t been approved because it's a bureaucratic headache for a lot of employees. Worse than that, sometimes they discard the invoices because they think they're redundant paperwork. Consequently, many invoices don’t get paid and don’t even get recorded by the Finance Department."