The Hit

by Michal Hartstein

  "Thanks for coming in," I said in an attempt to cool his anger a little. "I remember you told me you’re in the middle of exams."

  "Right," he said, not at all mollified by my reconciliatory attempt. "That’s why I don’t understand why you couldn't notify me that there was such a long delay. Every minute’s important to me."

  "I apologize, but the nature of my work is such that an unexpected event can happen at any given moment, and then all my appointments are necessarily postponed or cancelled."

  "So I see. I just don't understand why it's so difficult to update someone who already has an appointment with you."

  "You're right," I said in my softest tone. "It would have been appropriate to contact you and let you know. It was a mistake not to. We’re human after all."

  He made a face. I could not figure out if my apology had been accepted. Perhaps he had detected that it was not genuine.

  "I don't understand why it's necessary to interrogate me at all."

  "I’m not interrogating you. I just need to ask you a few questions -"

  "Whatever…"

  "Listen, Shirley was murdered. We have to examine all the possibilities."

  "What possibilities can there be?"

  "She worked with money, dealt with many suppliers…"

  "For Panda!" he almost shouted. "Not a front for the mafia!"

  "Criminal elements can be found in all sectors of society. Did you know that one of the suppliers she worked with had served time for extortion and threats?”

  "What?" He looked shocked.

  "Then you didn't know."

  "No. I didn't!"

  "Shirley didn't tell you about her work?"

  "Not much."

  "Why? You were living together…"

  "We didn’t have time for long conversations after she started working. Each one of us was busy with their own affairs."

  "So she didn’t keep you in the picture about what was happening with her work? You didn't hear from her about the suppliers she was working with? Or her co-workers?"

  "She mentioned several people once in a while. I admit I didn't pay attention to the details."

  "Who do you remember?"

  "A girl named Ella. I think she was a secretary and they used to have lunch together. I remember her because they used to socialize after work as well, so I bumped into her several times."

  "Who else?"

  "There was Shai the Weirdo."

  "Shai the Weirdo?"

  "Yes," he smiled. "That was what she called him."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know. I assume because he was… well, weird. I didn't meet him, but that was what she said about him."

  "Did she tell you anything else about him?"

  "Not too much. She only talked about him when she first started working at Panda. She said he was really a good employee and she was learning a lot from him, but he fitted the popular image of a bookkeeper."

  "Do you know anyone she worked with recently?"

  "I think she said she was working with someone more senior called Einav."

  "Are you sure her name was Einav?"

  "No."

  "Could it be Sigal?"

  "Yes!" he smiled and nodded. "Sigal!"

  "What can you tell me about Sigal?"

  "Nothing. I told you already. We didn't have much time to sit and talk."

  "Okay," I said and looked at him directly. I knew the next question would upset his complacency. "How would you describe your relationship with Shirley?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "How was your relationship? Good? Tense? Had you quarreled much recently?"

  The anger erupted in his eyes again. "I thought this wasn't an interrogation!"

  "It isn't."

  "Then what’s this question about? Why does the quality of my relationship with Shirley matter? Am I a suspect?"

  "Absolutely not."

  "Then I really don't understand what you're asking."

  "I asked a simple question and I'd like an answer."

  He took a deep breath, thought for a long moment, and said, "Even though I’ve no idea why you're asking, I will answer, because I really have nothing to hide. My relationship with Shirley was very good. I wouldn't say the sparks we had at the beginning of our relationship were still firing up, but I loved her a lot. We were going to get married!"

  "According to what you're saying, it sounds like you were drifting apart. You didn't talk very much -"

  "Right, but only because we were busy with our studies."

  "But Shirley didn't just study. She also went out to work."

  "Sorry, my studies and her work, that’s what I meant."

  "I understand your studies occupy a considerable part of your time."

  "Almost my entire time."

  "Were you faithful to Shirley?" I asked and saw that he was about to explode.

  "You're not seriously asking me that!"

  "I work in a job where I’m exposed to the weirdest stories you can imagine," I answered calmly.

  "Then listen up! There was nothing odd or unusual between Shirley and me. Just a young couple starting along their way, who fate decided to separate under terrible circumstances. As I told you already, I loved Shirley. And even if we’d drifted apart a little during a stressful period, it didn’t mean I didn’t love her or was unfaithful to her. Who had time for cheating anyway?"

  "Then, if I tell you that a co-worker of Shirley's is claiming that he had an affair with her, and that she intended to leave you for him, what would you say?"

  He was silent, shocked.

  "Yoni?" I asked after long minutes of silence. "Are you alright?"

  "Does it look like I'm alright?" He grasped his forehead with both hands and started rocking back and forth in his seat. I had no doubt he had not known anything about the alleged affair between Shirley and Shai, unless, in addition to his medical studies, he was also taking acting classes.

  "I'm really sorry you had to find out about it like this. To be honest, I thought you might have known. In a considerable number of cases, the partners know about an affair, or have guessed about it."

  "Why should I suspect my fiancée? It wasn't like we’d been married for twenty years and were buried in routine. We were about to get married…" A large, round tear dripped from his eye. He rushed to wipe it away with the back of his hand. "I thought we were in love."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Who was he?" he asked in a trembling voice.

  "Shai Hakim."

  "Shai the Weirdo?"

  "Yes."

  His expression changed at once and he started laughing. "Then you can relax. There was no affair, just the fantasy of a delusional man. Shirley told me he had the hots for her."

  "You sound very certain."

  "I’ve no doubt about it."

  "Why?"

  "I told you, Shirley called him Shai the Weirdo. She realized he was infatuated with her, but she was kindhearted enough to feel sorry for him. Listen, even in a parallel universe, a guy like him and a girl like Shirley wouldn’t become a couple."

  "Why not? You said you hadn't met him."

  "I could understand from Shirley's description that he was a guy who didn't even come close to her level."

  I could have told Yoni that Shai was an educated and sensitive guy, and could definitely fill the role of his deceased fiancée's partner, but I decided not to. All I wanted to do was to check if Yoni had known about the affair and if he had a motive. His reaction convinced me completely that he knew nothing. However, I could not, by any means, be convinced that the secret affair was only a figment of Shai's imagination.

  Wednesday, June 29, 2011

  I let the three new detainees spend the night in custody without knowing what they had been arrested for. I had not planned on letting them stew overnight, but Yoni's interview ended late, and I decided that a night of uncertainty might do what hours of interrogation could never do.

  I decided to interrogate Lior first.
My assumption was that he had acted as a messenger for Yaakov or Tom.

  Lior was silent throughout the interrogation. I could not get out of him any single piece of information beyond a confirmation of his personal details. I presented him with the evidence: Nagusto's positive identification of him, and the lab’s findings of his fingerprint, as well as Yaakov Sela's partial print, on the black washbag. Not a muscle on his face twitched, however. I remarked to myself that he would go far in the criminal career he had chosen for himself. Very few young and inexperienced felons succeeded in keeping silent like that.

  After two hours of interrogation, I instructed the jailers to transfer him to an isolation cell and bring up Yaakov Sela.

  Yaakov entered. He looked a lot less confident than he had two weeks ago. His body language projected distress and anxiety. I knew that, eight years previously, he had incriminated himself and had served time in order to protect his younger brother. Yaakov Sela acted like a tough and obstinate criminal toward strangers, but with his family, he conducted himself gently and with boundless love. It was his weak spot, and I was going to exploit it fully.

  "Shalom, Yaakov. How are you?"

  "Could be better," he responded and took a deep breath.

  "I'm sure."

  "Can you tell me why you arrested me, my son and my nephew?"

  "Sure," I said and moved some of the papers lying on the desk closer to me, as if I had to refresh my memory about the facts. I knew them by heart. "Though I’ve a rather strong feeling that you definitely know why you're here."

  "I’ve no idea."

  "Two weeks ago, right in the middle of Tel-Aviv, two citizens were murdered: Koby Ozri - I know you knew him - and Shirley Navon, an accountancy student who was working near the site of the incident."

  "You interrogated me already," he burst out angrily. "And I proved I wasn’t connected to it at all."

  "You proved nothing. The fact that, at the time we didn’t find any evidence tying you to the incident, doesn’t mean you weren’t involved." I saw how the blood was flowing from his head to his feet. He understood that I had evidence against him. "In any case," I continued, "I’ll start by telling you that the hired hitman has been caught. He confessed and identified Lior Zemach as the person who paid him for the assassination of Koby Ozri and Shirley Navon."

  "Big deal," he tried to sound unflustered, without much success.

  "Perhaps. Except that I have another piece of evidence. Believe it or not, the hitman you hired actually kept the washbag you used for the payment. The bag has Lior's fingerprints on it and also," I paused briefly for the dramatic effect, "your fingerprint."

  He closed his eyes and grasped his head in his hands. If body language could constitute evidence of guilt, then Yaakov's entire body was one big confession.

  "Yaakov, I want to be honest with you," I said, and he raised his eyes, looking defeated. "We’ve already interrogated Lior. He stuck to his right to keep silent. Listen, you can be proud of him as your protégé. I was very impressed by his ability to withstand the interrogation so well." Yaakov smiled a small, gloomy smile. "However, we both know that Lior is simply inexperienced and doesn’t understand that, when the police have such strong evidence, keeping silent doesn’t really help him. You also know that the person who interests me is the mastermind of the crime, not the messengers."

  Yaakov's smile was erased. I could see that the wheels in his brain were spinning fast.

  "In short, Yaakov," I tried to sum up, "I’m putting all my cards on the table. I know Lior was your messenger and that Nagusto, the hired hitman, committed the murder according to your instructions and planning. Nagusto has already signed an agreement with the District Attorney's office, and, I can promise you, there’ll be no more agreements in this case. If you want to send your beloved nephew to prison for life because of an errand, then be my guest."

  "It wasn’t me who ordered this hit."

  "The evidence shows otherwise."

  "There are things you don't know."

  "Like what? Like the fact that Shirley Navon's murder wasn’t an accident?"

  He stared at me, surprised.

  "Well, don’t be so shocked. I told you there’s a witness agreement with Nagusto. He already clarified that point."

  "It only proves I had no connection to this. What have I got to do with Shirley Navon?"

  "I'm sure that if I dig long enough, I'll find the connection. But if you do me a favor and save me the effort, I promise you I'll throw in a good word to the D.A. on your behalf."

  "You expect me to give you testimony in exchange for a good word?" He almost chuckled.

  "I don't think you’ve any choice here. We both know I can submit the case to the D.A. as it is. If you want Lior to incur most of the charges, since this is what most of the evidence shows, no problem. I'm not saying it’s the most robust case we’ve ever submitted, but we’ve put people in jail with a lot less. You know our rate of convictions very well."

  "You said before you were interested in the dispatcher, not the messenger."

  "Right."

  "And suppose I was also a messenger?"

  "Whose messenger?"

  "I’m not talking without an agreement."

  "Yaakov, nobody at the D.A. will approve another agreement in this case, and I don't have any reason to demand an agreement. The case against Lior is sufficiently strong. I believe you when you say you had no personal interest in Shirley Navon's death, which is why I want you to tell me what your motive was. The other option is for Lior to serve a life sentence instead of you. The D.A. won’t ask for less than two consecutive life sentences, guaranteed. Let's be fair. You’ll make my life easier, and I’ll make your life easier. I give you my word."

  "I believe you," Yaakov said after a brief silence. I was surprised. Even though I was quite certain that, in the end, he would consent and cooperate, I had thought this would take at least two days of discussions and consultations with his battery of lawyers. "You should know, Inspector Hadas, you have a good reputation. I know that if I reveal to you what I know, you’ll meet me halfway."

  I smiled and internalized the compliment. I was not a veteran at my job, but my word was trustworthy, always, and for everybody.

  "I give you my word," I said solemnly.

  "Then let's make an agreement between us. First of all, I’m asking you to release Tom. He has no connection to this thing. You can inspect and investigate, of course, but you said you were in the business of saving time."

  "I’ll look into it," I said, knowing that Tom would be released in the next twenty-four hours.

  "Second, regarding Lior, my nephew, who’s like a son to me. You said that the messenger didn't interest you, so I’m asking that you release him as well."

  "There’s evidence against him. It's impossible."

  "He had no idea what it was about."

  "That’s not quite true. He didn't just deliver the bag. According to Nagusto, he also gave him instructions over the phone."

  "They were all my instructions. He barely knew what it was about."

  "I promise you we'll reduce his charges to the minimum possible, but it's not possible to exempt him totally. He knew he was sending a hitman to carry out a contract."

  "He was only a messenger - my messenger - and I didn't initiate the murder, either. I didn't take out the contract. I received money for carrying it out."

  "Then who took out the contract?"

  "A girl named Sigal… not sure of her last name, but I have it written down somewhere. I know she worked with Shirley Navon."

  CHAPTER 20

  The Daffodils neighborhood of Ramat-Hasharon was renowned as one of the most sought-after neighborhoods in the Southern Sharon region. In fact, some would say it was one of the most sought-after and highly regarded neighborhoods in the entire State of Israel. It was a relatively new neighborhood, very close to the route to Tel-Aviv, and characterized by high-quality, well-spaced buildings, first-rate educational institutio
ns, attractive streets and blooming gardens. The residents who populated the neighborhood - lawyers, CPAs and senior engineers - enjoyed a high socio-economic status. The price of the apartments in the neighborhood soared, and the residents enjoyed a pastoral tranquility in the center of the country.

  It all changed in 2008.

  Dorit Peleg-Sela, Yaakov Sela's eldest daughter, decided that she also wanted to enjoy that affluence, and moved into a magnificent penthouse apartment in the neighborhood. Her arrival shocked the residents. Many parents discretely checked the age of Dorit's children in order to ensure that their kids would not attend the same classes with them, and two families actually left the area. Rumor had it that the apartments of the families who left were sold at a loss. These rumors were very disturbing for most of the residents in the neighborhood; after years of steep appreciation, the value of their assets declined sharply, the way it happens wherever dubious individuals move into a neighborhood.

  Dorit knew that people were talking about her behind her back. She was used to it. It was the price she had been paying all her life for being the daughter of one of the most notorious felons in the country. She, herself, did not interfere in the family business, not the legitimate ones, nor the others, but she had met her husband, Omer Peleg, because he had worked with her father. She took care not to interfere in his affairs, and whenever she was asked what her husband did, she answered, "He's a businessman."

  In 2007, Omer was convicted and jailed for one year, but Dorit didn’t even know what he had been charged with. When he had finished serving his time, she announced that they had to change their environment. She hired a realtor and asked him to find the best neighborhood in the area for her, and thus she arrived in the Daffodils neighborhood. In spite of the chilly reception she had encountered, Dorit believed that, like anywhere, she would find her place even in this prestigious neighborhood.

  She was right. Even though it had taken several months, she succeeded in bonding with three girlfriends - Sharon and Rinat who were housewives like her, and Sigal, who worked in bookkeeping.

  The four of them had moved to the neighborhood in order to attain a high standard of living and provide their kids with a high-quality education. However, they soon realized that they were pushed to the margins socially. There were too unsophisticated and not sufficiently educated, according to the standards of the other mothers.