Doron had been his right hand, and his absence at the table was very noticeable. But what could he do? Udi asked himself. Doron was blind to anything involving Galia.
Half of the meeting was dedicated to the embarrassment of the situation: a senior detective had quit and joined the other side! Many of the investigators were conflicted. They were angry at Doron for quitting. They knew that without him, without his brilliant mind, the investigation would not be conducted with sufficient efficiency, but they understood his position. They all knew how he felt about Galia. They remembered the period after the separation. They recalled how the light in Doron’s eyes had gone out. He certainly continued to do his work to the best of his abilities, spending many hours in the field, but it hadn’t been the same Doron as before. He’d been harsher, angrier; no one wanted to be standing in his way when he was upset. Even the administrative aides who normally went into his office with a cup of coffee or a snack after long hours of work instead would draw straws to see who had to enter and risk his icy glare.
Now, his absence was felt by each and every one of them. After the discovery of the gun in her home, everyone around the table looked at each other with pregnant glances. This development aroused conflicting emotions. Most were glad that the weapon had been discovered, as they knew how important the gun would be for the continuation of the investigation. On the other hand, they felt bad for Doron and Galia, on whom the walls seemed to be closing, leaving no escape from a trial.
It was clear now that the time had come for gathering evidence. The head of the department, who decided to direct the investigation himself, gave directives to his subordinates. Galia had pleaded guilty, but her accomplices were still at large: whoever had planned the assassination with her, whoever had given her the weapon, whoever had brought her to the scene of the crime, and had helped her flee. However, Galia wasn’t cooperating, as they had expected, so now it was time to question all her known associates.
One of the administrative aides composed a list of Galia’s personal acquaintances and even her colleagues. The list was not a long one; apparently, most of the people she knew were those she worked with. One of the detectives joked that at least she shared this with Doron: they were both workaholics.
Deputy Commissioner Fleischer ordered some of the investigators to summon Galia’s personal secretary, as well as her partner in the management of the newspaper, Daniel Hori. Others were sent to her office to retrieve any personal objects that might help with the investigation.
With all of the orders given and the meeting about to be adjourned, the forensics technician arrived with the ballistics report. He approached Udi and whispered in his ear.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Udi announced. “Before we disperse, let me inform you that there are no fingerprints on the gun. I need someone to find whose gun this is and where it was purchased — that’s the best-case scenario. Of course, it might have been stolen, so in the worst-case scenario, we have to find out whose hands it’s passed through. Let’s go, get into the field, make me proud with your best work. Don’t ignore anything, no matter how irrelevant it may seem.”
The investigators dispersed to their respective tasks. The secretary was handed the minutes of the meeting, and in the blink of an eye, the entire floor of the DII emptied out.
***
Orna Michaeli, Doron’s secretary, heard her phone ringing in her bag. It was locked in one of the drawers in his desk. She hurried to answer, looked at the number of the incoming call and her jaw fell open.
“Good morning,” she said reprovingly.
“Good morning, Orna. What’s new?”
“You’re asking me? How should I feel? We pulled an all-nighter on this case — right after I found out that my boss quit!” She was furious at him.
“Sorry, Orna, I apologize. I had no other choice. Udi made it abundantly clear that I’m off the case. Now it’s his problem. You know there was no way I could agree to that. Did you think I’d just sit on my hands? You’re one of the few people who can understand this!”
“You’re right about that,” she replied, remembering conversations they’d had during long nights of work, when he had shared all of his feelings about his separation from Galia. “I hope that you don’t end up regretting this, Doron. Galia is in a lot of trouble.”
“Yeah, I know.” He breathed deeply, knowing that he had to ask her something difficult. “Orna, I wanted to ask you for a favor. You know that the last thing I want is to interfere with the investigation. But I’m out of the mix now, so I need you to let me know if important things come up, any major development.”
“Doron,” Orna whispered, terrified that someone might overhear. “Have you gone mad? You can’t ask me for something like that! If someone were to find out…”
“Orna, listen,” he hesitated. “Think about our friendship. Think about all the years we worked together. I don’t even want to bring up who introduced you to Lior. You owe me. You said it yourself, remember? I cannot ask anyone else. I’m relying on you and especially on your discretion.”
“Doron, are you planning to conduct your own investigation?” she asked, but she already knew the answer.
“Of course, you know me. My gut is never wrong. I’m sure that—”
“Doron, it’s not about your gut.” Orna’s voice was serious. “It’s not your gut that’s telling you what to do about Galia, it’s your dick. You know it. The best thing for you to do is to stay far away from this investigation. For a change, why don’t you think logically? Otherwise, you’ll jeopardize the investigation. As well as yourself and your reputation. And all for—”
“What, for Galia? That’s exactly what I’m going to do this time. And you know what, I would risk my life for her. I will do whatever it takes to get to the truth, to keep her out of jail. The way I see it, unlike the way you guys are thinking about it, there’s not a chance in hell that Galia did this on her own.”
The line went silent.
“Are you with me or not?”
Orna looked around, hoping that none of her colleagues flitting around the office were paying attention to this phone call. “Look, I’ll help you.” He heard the hesitation in her voice. “But don’t call me again. I’ll call you if I have anything new and interesting to tell you.”
“Do you have anything new and interesting to tell me now?” He was already pressing his luck.
Orna hesitated.
“Orna, I’m sure that Udi and everyone else have been there all night. Tell me,” he ordered.
“Okay, first of all…” Orna riffled through the minutes of the meeting. “There were no fingerprints on the gun.”
“Excellent!”
“Also, they’re going to bring in Galia’s secretary and her partner, Daniel Hori.”
“Something else?”
“Okay, right now, as we’re talking, some of the investigators from the Northern District are on their way to Galia’s office, to search it thoroughly and to bring whatever is relevant back here, so they can find her accomplices.”
You mean whoever forced her to do this, Doron thought.
“Orna, you’re the best. Thanks!”
“Don’t forget it. Now you owe me.”
“Big time. Bye.”
Orna hung up and she looked around again. She hoped with all her heart that she would not regret giving this help to Doron. She waited for her heart to return to its normal rhythm, focusing on printing up the minutes of the meeting.
“Doron, your coffee’s getting cold in the kitchen.” Galia said, opening the door to the balcony and stepping outside to where Doron was. Doron put the phone back in his pocket. Galia ignored this and leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking out on Haifa Bay. While the sky was still stained by heavy, gray rainclouds, the city was spread at the foot of the Carmel, busting with life. The roar of the buses and cars rose up into the m
ountains, to this small, exclusive neighborhood which she and Doron loved so much.
An old song came to her: “In the streets after the rain/ Life is the same as yesterday and before.” It tugged at her heartstrings, an abyss yawning before her.
Being cut off from Shir was starting to eat away at her: worrying about her, missing her so deeply. The pain was physically palpable. She couldn’t help wondering how long it would be before Shir was back with her. She was particularly apprehensive about the inevitable moment when Doron would insist on speaking to his daughter or seeing her. Regret tore at her. If only Galia had told Doron about her family, about her sister; but she had met him at such a difficult time in her life, a period in which she could not digest the new revelations. Afterwards, she had wanted to leave her past far behind her. There had been nothing that could persuade her to tell Doron about her sister, especially since Naama refused to have any meaningful connections with her regardless.
Doron came over to her with his cup of coffee, looking at the infinite blue of the Mediterranean and breathing the mountain air deep into his conflicted soul. He was hesitant to disturb Galia from her thoughts. The expression on her face was troubled, and he had to restrain himself from wrapping his arms around her. He remembered how Galia had insisted on buying an apartment with a sea view. They had spent so much time standing right here, looking into the distance and feeling close to God.
Galia looked at the road below her. Among those crowded in front of the building, she saw a young man wearing a kippah. He seemed to be looking at her, then got into a car. She recalled the threats of her sister not to tell anything to anyone.
Her heart pounded in her chest. She choked in a cry of terror fearing it escape her mouth, as she whipped around and stumbled into Doron. He looked at her with a questioning glance. She tried to conceal the fear she felt, the concern about her sister. Suddenly, she was shaking like a leaf. Doron thought it was the wintry wind blowing across the balcony, and he suggested that she enter the apartment. She looked at his worried face, caressing his cheek, and then went inside. She couldn’t withstand the storm of questions he definitely wanted to rain down upon her. On the contrary, she had to avoid being near him any length of time, she decided. Thus, she could keep her promise to her sister, preventing any excessive chattiness on her part, which she would likely regret.
It appeared that Doron read her mood correctly. He finished his cup of coffee on the balcony, giving Galia time to relax, and only a few minutes later did he follow her inside.
She was in the kitchen. Looking for something to occupy herself, she decided to make some coffee for the cop outside her door.
“Are you hungry?” she asked as she called him in. “Should I make you something?”
“No problem, whatever you want to make for yourself.” For the first time, she saw the shadow of a smile on the face of her guard. She knew that were it not for his acquaintance with Doron, he would not even accept the cup of coffee.
“No, I’m not hungry. I’ll just make something for the two of you.” She turned to the refrigerator and took out vegetables, cheese, and eggs. Unfortunately, even thinking about food made her nauseous.
“Gali, you have to eat something…” Doron said as she brought only two plates to the table.
“Yeah, I can eat later. Come, sit, eat together. While you’re eating, I’ll just call Yael to see what’s going on in the paper.”
The cop stood up to object. “I apologize, Mrs. Yellin, but I was ordered this morning not to let you call anyone, at least not for the next hour.”
“Sorry, but I’m under house arrest, not in prison.”
“Yes, Mrs. Yellin, but those are my orders. I’m sorry,” he apologized.
Galia looked at Doron, fighting back tears. The separation from Shir and the involuntary confinement were just too much for her. Now she couldn’t even call her office? What else?
“I’m going to check this out,” Doron promised her.
She nodded, then went to prepare breakfast. Doron and Eyal, the guard, sat at the breakfast nook and looked at her silently. Nothing they had to say could improve her mood.
A few minutes later, Galia put the food in front of them. “Bon appétit!” she wished them. Then she headed to the bedroom.
Soon Doron knocked and asked, “Gali, is everything all right?”
She dried her tears on the sleeve of her blouse. “I’m fine,” she lied. “I’m getting dressed. I’ll be out soon.”
“Hurry it up, I need to leave, and I have some things to tell you.”
Galia got up from her bed. She washed her face and looked in the mirror. “Damnit!” she exclaimed. Her eyes clearly showed that she’d been crying. She changed her clothes, but wondered why she was going to that effort. She had nowhere to go, after all.
A few minutes later, there were more knocks on the door.
“Gali, can I come in?”
Galia opened her bedroom door and Doron stepped in to look at her. He glanced at her red eyes, but decided not to make a big deal about it.
“Listen, I talked to Orna this morning. I asked her to keep me apprised about the investigation.”
“Doron, are you serious? You’re just going to get into more trouble with Udi.”
“Forget it, she owes me. And she already told me that there are no fingerprints on the gun.”
Gali looked at Doron as she heard the news. She thought: Of course, my brilliant sister either wore gloves or wiped her fingerprints off the gun. Naama would never have taken the risk of her fingerprints being found.
Galia trembled at the thought of Naama creeping around her house.
“This is good for us!” declared Doron.
“For us?” asked Galia, still hoping that Doron would not interfere too much and endanger their daughter.
“Orna also said Daniel and Yael will be brought in for questioning, and they will search your office today. Don’t worry though, that’s just standard procedure.”
Galia sat on her bed, trying to digest the news and where it might lead. Her head was pounding, trying to anticipate the next development.
“I’m leaving now. I want to go to the paper and see what’s going on. Hopefully, I can get in and be there while they’re carrying out the search. I’ll be in touch.”
Galia accompanied him to the door. Doron kissed her on the lips and left. The guard apologized and left to station himself by the door, feeling that her privacy had been impinged upon enough already.
Galia sat down in the living room, staring at the walls, and she tried to think about something to do to keep her mind occupied, refusing to sink back into inactivity. She went to the sideboard and looked through the photo albums. She was in agony, missing Shir and worrying about her. With a sad smile on her face, she flipped through the album, looking for pictures of Shir growing up. All she could think about was the search taking place in her office.
She was worried about documentation — not the deposit slips for the bank account she used to pay for her grandfather’s room at the seniors’ residence, but the new deposits which she had made from time to time, when her sister had managed to persuade her to do so. One of them was just a few days old, a deposit of three thousand shekels to the Karnei Re’em yeshiva.
All Galia could do was hope that the investigators would take some time to determine the significance of these papers. She could, in the meantime, help them and volunteer information that would send them only to her grandfather.
Poor Grandpa Yehuda, she thought; she had not seen him for years. She now missed him greatly as well.
All those years that Yehuda had been at the seniors’ residence, Galia and Haya had been accustomed to visit him a number of times weekly. For Galia, this was part of her regular schedule. She played with her friends in the street, she spent time with her youth movement, and she went to visit her grandfather. She loved him
deeply, and she was totally devoted to him. The nursing staff might change, but their visits were a regular affair. All the workers knew the mother and the daughter who arrived daily to visit Yehuda, whose medical situation steadily deteriorated.
These visits continued, but they became more infrequent as the years passed, as Yehuda lost all grip on reality and became essentially bedridden. In the end, she stopped visiting altogether after the death of her mother, deciding that it was too difficult emotionally to do so. In order to maintain her equanimity, Galia felt she had to sever all ties to her past. Her last visit had been six years earlier. She remembered him in his bed, looking at her. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but all he could say was her name.
Galia would call to see how he was doing a couple of times each month. She was worried about how he was being cared for, so each month she paid a hefty sum from her personal account, an account used to transfer money to her sister via the yeshiva. All the paperwork associated with this relationship, including the deposit slip for the latest check, was sitting inside a locked drawer in her desk, inside a folder. How could she have known that her life would suddenly take such a sharp left run, and that folder would prove to be so critically important?!
Chapter Eight
At exactly eleven o’clock, a team of three sober-faced investigators strode into the Our Haifa building. They were referred by workers there to the top floor, and they quickly reached Galia’s office and addressed her secretary, who was not surprised by their arrival.
Yael had been warned fifteen minutes earlier that they were on their way. Doron had managed to inform her while he was stuck in a massive traffic jam from the Carmel to downtown. Even though she was not surprised by their arrival, Yael’s heart beat fast as she opened the door of Galia’s office for them. Following Doron’s orders, she stood at the entrance and took note of everything they did and everything they took, so that she could update him afterwards. Yael, who had served in the military with Galia, was certain that her boss was innocent. If Galia had committed the crime, this was because she had been compelled to do so.
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