At least, that was what he thought; however, Naama knew about it all, and she had a plan of her own. Along the way, not far from the restaurant, the young men stopped the car at the Shaar Aliyah gas station, saying that they need to get some air. They got out of the car. A few minutes later, Naama got in the driver’s seat and drove them back into the flow of traffic. Her beloved was dumbfounded.
Naama simply could not stand to lose her beloved husband. She knew what she had to do, but never let that slip. A few minutes later, they arrived at a parking lot near the restaurant, and before Immanuel could do anything, she was already out the door, with the handgun in her bag.
“Wait for me here, I’ll be right back,” she said, caressed his cheek and quickly left. Naama knew that she owed Immanuel her life. His love had saved her, almost at the cost of his own life.
Back at the car, Immanuel knew that he couldn’t get out alone. If he tried, he would delay Naama, and then she would be captured.
He waited, for minutes that seemed like an eternity, until Naama got back to the car, pulled out and left the parking lot in a flash.
Now, he sat in the car, waiting for Naama to bring Shir so they could say goodbye to the young people at the outpost. He felt frustrated and irritated by the fact that Naama had become the fearless hero of the story, leaving him the poor cripple in a wheelchair. What would he do now? He had never planned for this. He was supposed to be in custody now; Naama was supposed to be overcoming the pain of losing him and building the rest of her life without him.
Perhaps it was he who had to think about life without her? After all, she was planning to flee. Could he possibly join her, as she had requested? His father also thought that he should leave with her. He couldn’t deal with the thought of his firstborn son rotting in jail. He guaranteed that he would do everything to help them flee, and indeed he used his connections to fast-track their forged passports.
Naama got in the car alone. “Where’s the girl?” he asked.
“She didn’t want to come with me. She won’t stop crying. She wants Galia. Mom also didn’t want me to take Shir out in this cold. I think Mom’s the only who could calm her down,” she explained as she turned the key.
Heavy clouds were on the horizon, but within a few minutes they were at the outpost.
She helped Immanuel to get out. Other young men came and helped him sit in his wheelchair. They brought him to one of the houses in the outpost, where all the young men gathered.
Naama, on the other hand, turned to another house, where she met all the young women who were her friends from the seminary and from the settlement. She smiled at all of them, but her heart pounded. It would be hard to leave such a wonderful place. She wanted it to survive and flourish, but she knew that in a few months they would all be evacuated and the area would be desolate once again.
“Where are Asaf and Yehiel?” she asked when she didn’t see her best friends around. “Haven’t they returned from Jerusalem?”
“They’re watching over your sister. They’re reporting every few hours on what’s going on.”
“Anything new?”
They looked at each other. They didn’t want her to worry.
“What’s going? Why did you get quiet all of a sudden?”
Hava, one of the girls who was a national-service volunteer, came and hugged her. “Your sister was taken to the national headquarters. Are you sure she won’t say anything?”
“If she wants her daughter back, she won’t,” Immanuel suddenly said from behind her. He wanted to say goodbye to the girls as well.
“Okay, it’s not like there’s much she could tell, right?”
Naama nodded her head. “I can’t think of anything. Even if she knows where we live, she also knows that she’s got to be careful. But it’s not her I’m worried about, it’s her husband. He’s the only one who might show up here. I told you he’s a brilliant detective, right?”
The national-service volunteer girls gathered around her, trying to comfort her. A similar group of boys surround Immanuel to hang out with him one last time.
“All we can do is pray to God that by the time he does show up, if he does, you’ll be long gone,” one of them said.
“Amen!” they all replied. They sat to pray for the fugitive couple to have a safe and successful journey.
An hour late, Naama and Immanuel reluctantly said goodbye to all their friends. They made their way back home. They found Daniela in the kitchen, with Shir sleeping the sleep of angels in her lap.
“My dear,” her mother said to her. “You have to send this little girl back to her mother. It took me until now to calm her down, and she just fell asleep because she was so tired from crying.”
“Okay, Mom, fine. I imagine we’ll be gone by tomorrow, and then Galia can have her back,” she told her mother impatiently, as other thoughts popped up in her mind. She bent down and took Shir, intending to put her to bed, and left the kitchen.
“Daniela.” Immanuel abruptly turned to her. “You know that I respect you, but you are stressing Naama out. She knows — I mean, we know what we’re doing. So please don’t interfere, okay?” He spat the words out furiously.
Daniela did not respond. She had noticed how his behavior had changed, a change which also was reflected by Naama’s relationship to her being altered. She was frightened for her daughter, worried about her husband’s influence on her. In her view, this influence would only cause the situation to further deteriorate. And what would happen to Naama then?
“Udi, come on, give me five minutes alone with her,” Doron begged.
He followed the convoy of cars and arrived simultaneously with them. He tried to get close to Galia, ignoring the reporters and photographers who waited in the nearby lot, in order to capture an image of Galia or get her to utter a sentence or two. However, the security personnel kept him from approaching and dragged her to the interrogation room. He quickly went to Udi’s office, compelled to find out what was happening to Galia, if there was something discovered in her office which might make things difficult for her.
“Not a chance, Doron. I won’t give you one second with her. In the meantime, show some gratitude for the treatment she’s receiving right now. You know that once we tie up the loose ends, she won’t get special treatment anymore, regardless of who she is. Whatever she has to say, I want to be there to hear it. And she has her lawyer for support. Now, I just got off the phone two minutes ago with the prime minister. He made it very clear whose ass is on the line, and what he expects of us. I promised him results, and bottom line, I intend to fulfil my word. Look, bro, if you were still working for me, without any connection to the investigation, you would get whatever you asked for. But we both know that’s impossible now.” Udi looked at his friend, whose jaw clenched in anger. Doron knew that there was no chance that he could speak to Galia alone.
“Did you have to handcuff her?” he fumed.
“What do you think, Doron? Have you forgotten procedure? Just because she’s your wife doesn’t mean the investigation won’t be conducted properly. Now, go outside and sit down; we’ll see if I can take you to the adjoining room.”
Doron left Udi’s office and looked for a chair in the hallway. Orna approached him, holding a cup of coffee.
“Doron, calm down.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, everything will be all right.”
“Is there something new?’
Orna looked around, hoping that no one could hear Doron’s question. She looked back at him angrily.
“Okay, Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get you mixed up in this. I’m just under a lot of stress,” Doron said and stood up, Orna could feel his frustration. She gave him her cup of coffee.
“Why don’t you take this? You need it more than me. Just come to the kitchen. I’ll make you some more.”
They walked to the breakroom, passing Do
ron’s former office.
“You know, Udi is convinced that you’ll be coming back soon. Since yesterday, he won’t let anyone go in there. He says you’ll be back, and if anyone touches anything, they’ll regret it.”
Doron looked through the blinds into the room, but his heart did not waver. There was not a scintilla of longing in him. His concern for Galia was all-encompassing; he could not help but think about the moment at which it would all conclude and what would happen next. He stood by the entrance to the kitchen as Orna searched for the box of cookies she had bought the day before.
“What, aren’t you used to the way your cookies disappear within the hour?” Doron tried to joke.
Orna smiled back. “Well, I thought that once you left, there would be no one to decimate them.”
“Guess I’m not the only pig in this office…”
But when Orna tried to leave the kitchen, Doron blocked her way.
“Doron, don’t push me.”
“I’m trying not to push you, but I have to know what’s going on. You have to tell me what the detectives are up to.”
Orna looked at his face — miserable, exhausted. She understood his position, but she didn’t want to lose her job. Finally she motioned for him to come back into the kitchen.
“This is what I know. They took a bunch of documents and folders from Galia’s office. One of them, I heard, has deposit slips, and they weren’t for insignificant sums. For those deposits, she has another account in her name in a bank in Binyamina. The detectives are checking if the bank received those deposits. No one knows where the money ended up, but you know how this is, everyone here thinks they’re Sherlock Holmes, and they all have suspicions. One of the investigators has suggested that the money may have gone to an extremist organization, one of those in the West Bank planning their own personal war.”
“What? That’s such bullshit, believe me! I don’t know anything about deposits, but I promise you it’s not what they think.”
“We’ll wait and see. Galia will have a chance to explain everything.”
They left the kitchen and walked towards the interrogation room. On the way, they met a number of detectives who were on their way in. Doron managed to glimpse Galia’s face as she sat in the middle of the room, near a large table. The door shut in his face, and he looked around, trying to find Udi. Since he didn’t see him anywhere, Doron popped into the adjoining observation room, where a one-way mirror allowed all those assembled there to watch the interrogation.
Galia was exhausted by the very thought of her impending interrogation. She asked for another cup of coffee. She had to stay awake, and she had to weigh each word carefully. She was happy to see Roni come in and sit down next to her, across from the detectives.
“Galia, don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’m with you. I will make sure they don’t ask you convoluted questions which you know nothing about. Unless you think the time has come to share what you have to tell with the police…” He put a hand on her shoulder, looking at her questioningly.
Galia couldn’t see a way out of her predicament. She had seen Doron passing by the interrogation room’s open door, and she thought about all the things he was about to learn about her in the next few minutes. She wondered how he would respond. Would his belief in her innocence be undermined by the revelation of all the details she’d never shared with him? She knew that she had to be very convincing if she wanted the documents and deposits the detectives had discovered not to be examined in depth. She had to persuade the investigators that the money had been transferred for another purpose — supporting her aged, infirm grandfather.
“Okay, Galia,” said one of the detectives. “Let us be straight with you. You know that the evidence we have against you is ironclad. But we still believe that you didn’t act alone. You can help yourself if you tell us everything. Just name your accomplices and whatever organization you belong to, and that’ll be the end of it. Or we can continue the interrogation, and we’ll get to the bottom of it regardless.”
Galia felt her anger beginning to stir. She wasn’t impressed by the detectives’ polite overture. She gathered her strength, determined to convince them that she had acted alone. “I’ll say it again: I don’t have accomplices. I don’t belong to any organization. I did it on my own.” Galia watched as the detectives exchanged glances.
“Okay, if that’s how you want to play it, you acted alone. Then how about you explain this special folder’s contents.” He placed a gray folder in front of her as he sat down.
Roni advised her, “Galia, you don’t have to explain that at all. In any case, they’ll inspect the contents and reach their own conclusions.”
Now it was Galia’s turn to place a hand on his shoulder: “It’s fine. These deposits are a private, personal matter. They have nothing to do with this investigation.”
“Nothing to do with it? Why should we believe you, at the end of the day? Here’s our working assumption: every aspect of your ‘personal matters’ is likely to be tied to the assassination attempt somehow. Just so you know, we are tracing these deposits right now. It won’t take long for us to discover the recipients, have no doubt. Now, would you like to cooperate and tell us while you still can? That would be a show of good faith on your part.”
Galia hesitated. Certainly, it would not take long for them to discover who had received the money. Yes, she wanted to slow down the investigation, but stubbornly refusing to say anything would be silly.
“Fine, as I told you, they have nothing to do with all of this. There are deposit slips in that folder for monthly payments to the Maoz Yom Seniors’ Residence in Binyamina. My grandfather, Yehuda Hador, has been in that facility for years already.” She looked at the large mirror covering one wall. She had the feeling that Doron was watching her.
“Are you sure about that, Mrs. Yellin? There’s no reason to lie because we’re locating this account as we speak.” The detective leaned on the table, his eyes filled with suspicion, as he tried to determine if she was telling the truth .
“I’m not lying. You’ll see for yourself when your investigators present their findings.” Galia was sweaty and uncomfortable, hoping that her answer would suffice for now. At that moment, the door opened and another detective entered. He and her questioner whispered back and forth, exchanging documents, while Galia and Roni exchanged glances.
“Okay, the facts seem to confirm what you’ve said. The money was deposited in that account, and from there to the retirement home you mentioned. Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not getting support from somewhere. We will continue to investigate every avenue, until we can account for all the possibilities.”
The two detectives headed for the door, and Galia breathed a sigh of relief, but then the lead detective asked, “You don’t mind if we visit your grandfather at the retirement home, right?”
Galia paused for a breath, then said lightly, “I don’t see what good it would do, but you’re going to do it anyway. Why bother to ask me?” She interlaced her hands and leaned back.
Her lawyer got up to join the detectives outside and asked her to be patient. He would see if they’d let her go. Galia looked back at the big mirror, covering almost an entire wall of the interrogation. She could feel his gaze, just as she had two days earlier at the courthouse when he’d stood behind her. There was no reason for Doron to be upset about the things she had told the investigators, but the problem was why she had hidden them from him.
She remembered when they were still dating, how they’d spend hours together. Doron would go on and on about himself, his family, his life; Galia, on the other hand, would say next to nothing about her family, simply listening to him. Galia remembered one evening at their beloved Mandarin Café. They had been enjoying the music and talking about their day. It had been the very first time that she had shared with Doron and told him a bit about her mother. He held her hand gently as she tol
d him how much she missed her, how close they were, how much she regretted that a family dispute had caused their relationship to deteriorate.
“Family dispute” — that was her favorite euphemism for what had happened after discovering the truth about her father and her sister. Doron had taken the explanation at face value; he thought it was the typical dysfunction that any family might experience, and he accepted her lie about having no family left. Galia herself couldn’t explain why she’d never told Doron about her grandfather. When she was alone, her heart ached with longing and worry. She recognized it now as a defense mechanism against the pain she felt when considering his difficult situation; even during the last years when she’d regularly visited him, he couldn’t recognize or remember her.
Now, she knew she had to tell Doron all about her grandfather, if he’d only agree to listen and to understand. She lit a cigarette and got up from her chair, wandering around the room, waiting to be released. She knew that the investigation would continue. Soon, the detectives would likely discover that in addition to the payments to Yehuda’s retirement home, there was another account she was regularly transferring money into — the one whose number she learned long before she knew who controlled it. Her only hope was that enough time might pass before this fact was discovered, to allow Naama the opportunity to return Shir to her.
Forced Silence Page 13
