“That’s good,” she replied in the same language.
Jakob recognized tov, the word for “good,” but not the one before it.
“Don’t press me,” he answered in English. “I don’t know how to ask where the restroom is.”
Hana replied with a word that sounded like “mushroom.” Jakob opened the door and let them enter the office before him. He had the chairs set up for them.
“Any updates from the detective on the criminal investigations?” Ben asked as soon as they were seated.
“Not since we last talked. I’m doing what Detective Freeman suggested—keeping my eyes open and staying aware of my surroundings.”
Hana supplemented the information she’d furnished in her memos. As he listened, Jakob again wished he’d been at the center of the action. Ben had several questions. Jakob remained silent.
“Mr. Lowenstein gave preliminary approval for a return trip in a month,” Hana said when she’d finished her update. “By then, I hope Daud will have been able to set up interviews and make progress in uncovering any connections the Zadan brothers might have had with an organized group.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time looking online for tidbits of information,” Jakob said. “There was internet chatter about the attack coming out of the Islamic republics in the Black Sea area.”
“Anything specific?” Hana asked. “I wouldn’t have thought to focus on that region.”
Jakob pulled up a summary he kept on his computer and went over his English notes about the blog entries without mentioning that he’d translated the information from Russian. It clearly upset Ben to hear this type of communication about Gloria and her death.
“I’m sorry, Ben,” Jakob said at one point. “I know I’m talking in a detached way about what happened.”
“I understand,” Ben replied. “I can’t help how it makes me feel, but I want to know what’s going on.”
“One of the more interesting things I found was a recruitment video by an American living in the region,” Jakob continued. “It’s in English with Russian and Arabic subtitles.”
“Do you know his name?” Hana asked.
“No, he’s not identified. He never mentioned Gloria’s murder specifically, but the video appears on a site that does.” Jakob paused. “Did you talk to Mr. Lowenstein about me joining you on the next trip to Israel?”
Hana nodded. “Yes, and I told him I wanted you to be there. He gave his permission but then raised questions about how much you could contribute due to the language limitations. I told him that shouldn’t disqualify you.”
“Thanks,” Jakob said gratefully.
“I’ll call him myself if he tries to backtrack,” Ben jumped in. “I want Jakob to go.”
“That may not be necessary,” Hana replied. “If it is, I’ll let you know.”
“What are you going to work on in the meantime?” Ben asked.
“Getting a better understanding of the law and what we need from witnesses,” Hana said. “There is a large research bank at the law firm concerning that sort of thing. Because of the other work in my queue, though, it will take me at least a week to get to it.”
This was exactly the type of expertise Jakob was seeking when he associated a firm like Collins, Lowenstein, and Capella.
“I’ll help,” he offered. “Because there is a difference in approach between domestic and foreign transactions, I’d like to focus on the US part.”
“That makes sense,” Hana said. “If Mr. Lowenstein agrees, I’ll forward the research to you.”
Jakob knew Hana had to follow law firm protocol. After they talked for another fifteen minutes, she checked her watch. “I have to return to the office for a meeting,” she said, standing up.
“Don’t forget Sadie’s birthday party on Saturday afternoon,” Ben said.
“The invitation is stuck to the front of my refrigerator, and it’s categorized as the highest priority on my calendar at work,” Hana said with a big smile.
Ben stayed after Hana left. “Do you have any thoughts about the case that you didn’t want to mention in front of Hana?” he asked Jakob.
“First, I was happy she went to bat for me with her boss. That’s not common for an associate attorney dealing with a senior partner,” Jakob said. “But the biggest concern is that she wants to include the private investigator in everything. He’s not subject to the attorney-client confidentiality rules, and the fact that he played on a soccer team with her brother several years ago doesn’t mean much to me. Hana didn’t admit it, but it’s clear there was an immediate chemistry between them. I mean, two of their meetings were dinner dates. Hana is a very smart woman, but whoever said love is blind had a reason to do so.”
“That’s what I was thinking, too,” Ben said. “But when you didn’t say anything, I kept quiet.”
“She’s working hard to keep me in the loop, and it would sound ungrateful if I tried to marginalize the investigator. I hope you and I are both wrong, and Daud Hasan has more integrity than an Eagle Scout.”
Two hours later, Jakob sent a text to Emily to tell her he was ready to go home. Just before he shut off his computer, he received an email with an attachment from Hana Abboud. The attached file included more than four hundred pages of research, documents, discovery, and pleadings about piercing the corporate veil and uncovering fraudulent and secret transfers of assets and money in the United States. It was jaw-dropping in scope.
Please keep this information confidential. Will discuss later.
Hana
Hana and Daud settled into a routine that suited both their schedules. After Hana arose in the morning and dressed for work, they Skyped on their computers. Early afternoon in Israel was a convenient time for Daud, who often worked late into the night. Hana suspected the investigator still juggled his calendar to carve out time for their conversations. They always began their time with a brief prayer.
One of the most telling parts of the routine was how they both reacted when, a few days after Hana returned to the States, they skipped a session because Daud had to attend a meeting he couldn’t reschedule.
The following morning Daud began the conversation. “Yesterday was terrible,” he said in Arabic as soon as Hana’s face appeared.
“Why?”
“Because we weren’t able to talk.”
“I felt it, too,” Hana replied. “It left a hole in my heart. If something comes up for you, we will set another time, even if I have to wake up in the night to talk. I could call when I finish praying.”
Daud knew about Hana’s nighttime sessions with the Lord. His own devotional life was limited to fifteen to thirty minutes as soon as he woke up.
“I’m open to any option,” he replied, adjusting his computer so that Hana could catch a glimpse of his kitchen in the background. “Do you have time this morning for a tour of my apartment?”
“Sure.”
Hana leaned forward as Daud carried the laptop around his apartment. It was the first time she’d seen where he lived. It exceeded anything she would have imagined. The main living area was huge, the kitchen was filled with top-notch appliances, and there were three bedrooms, one of which served as Daud’s office.
“I’m on the top floor of a five-story building,” he said when he showed her his broad balcony.
“It’s like a penthouse suite,” she said.
“That’s because it is,” he answered. “I’m not sure if you can see it, but there’s a nice garden below the balcony.”
The camera didn’t transmit a very clear picture, but Hana could tell that the building was perched on a hill. She already knew that Daud lived in Beit Hanina, one of the nicer Arab suburbs of Jerusalem. To afford a top-floor apartment in that area proved that his investigative business was flourishing.
“The furniture is modern, not traditional,” he said, returning to the living area. “I hope that’s okay with you.”
Hana started to say that it was none of her business but didn’t because
Daud obviously cared about her opinion. He showed her a leather-and-chrome chair and matching sofa, along with glass-topped tables upon which art objects rested. It was like a mini-museum. Even the kitchen featured pottery crafted in the desert.
“It fits together,” she said. “And you have some beautiful pieces from the Negev.”
“Those are family items.”
“I’ll show you my house,” Hana said. “It came furnished, so none of the furniture is mine. It won’t take as long.”
It was Hana’s turn to carry around her laptop. Daud asked her to stop when she reached a collection of photos of her family in frames on top of the dresser in her bedroom. She brought the laptop closer and told him about them.
“I see your nieces and nephews, but where’s Mikael?” Daud asked.
“He’s not as cute as they are.”
“Have you talked to him since we met?”
“No, he’s still in Africa and won’t be returning to Israel until next week.”
Leon was lying on a rug in the kitchen. He raised his head when Hana came closer. Daud told the dog to sit up in Arabic. Leon yawned and lowered his head.
“He only understands a couple of words in English,” Hana replied. “I’m not sure he’s going to be bilingual.”
She told Daud how Leon came to live with her.
“I adopted a stray when I was a boy,” Daud replied. “He had a great nose and ears. He would lead us to scorpions in the desert.”
“Why would you want to find scorpions?” Hana said and pulled back from the screen.
“To play with them. We’d catch them, cut off their tails with a knife, and let them climb all over us. I didn’t show you my scorpion cage in the apartment, did I?”
“Seriously?”
Daud smiled. “No, no pets of any kind. My schedule wouldn’t allow it.”
Hana and Daud would usually end their conversations with a discussion about the Neumann case. Daud was compiling a list of people to interview and waiting on responses for requests to obtain additional documents and official reports.
“I have copies on a flash drive of the photos you saw at the police station near Hurva Square,” Daud said. “I’ll send them to you later today. One of the captains is an acquaintance and released them to me.”
Hana shuddered at the memory of the images. “I’ll forward the photos to Jakob Brodsky but not Ben Neumann,” she said.
“You should ask Neumann about that,” Daud replied.
“Why?”
“It’s his decision. You’re his lawyer, not his caretaker.”
Hana wasn’t convinced. “Maybe I’ll leave that up to Jakob.”
Daud moved away from the camera for a moment. “I have to go,” he said when his face came back into view. “I’ll be away all day tomorrow and won’t be able to talk or respond to texts.”
“Working on our case?”
“No, something else that is very time-sensitive. I’ll miss seeing and talking to you.”
“I’ll miss you, too. Bye.”
The screen went blank. Hana, who was sitting on the sofa, leaned back against the cushions. Talking was fine, but her heart ached at the physical separation between them.
Jakob was at the office when he received the photos from the murder scene in Hurva Square. In their stark detail, they were harder to look at than the fuzzy surveillance video. Per Hana’s request, he sent a text to Ben asking the client if he wanted to see them. Ben didn’t immediately respond.
After taking a call from a client, Jakob finished responding to emails before resuming his internet research. Based on what he’d received from Hana and Daud, he’d switched much of his focus to sites within the Middle East. However, the language barrier was proving formidable. Arabic was like hieroglyphics to him. A recurring thread he was able to follow had to do with recruitment videos in English aimed at budding or fully committed Islamic fundamentalists in the United Kingdom or the United States. Most of the English speakers had a British accent, but the lanky American Jakob had seen before made a brief appearance, shouting, “Allahu akbar,” meaning “God is greater,” at the conclusion of a speech in English by an older man with a gray beard and wearing a red sweater. Maddie buzzed him.
“Detective Freeman from the APD is calling,” she said. “Are you in trouble?”
“No, you’re in trouble,” Jakob joked. “I’ll talk to him.”
“No fresh leads since the guy fled to Venezuela,” the detective said. “We’ve confirmed the type of phosphorous device that triggered the car fire. It was homemade. There’s no way to know how long it was there, and it’s almost certain the mechanic set it off by jiggling the triggering wires, causing them to make contact.”
“What about Sarkasian?” Jakob asked.
“He admitted who he is and isn’t going to fight extradition to North Carolina. Once he’s processed, he won’t be on the street for a while.”
“What happens now?”
“That’s why I called. I’m keeping the file open, but we’re at a dead end unless we receive new information.”
Jakob touched the side of his head. The knots were almost gone. “How would you rate the ongoing danger to me?”
“I have to say there’s a possibility, but once a few rats are flushed into the light, the rest usually go into hiding.”
“I’m going to Israel in a few weeks. Any concerns about that?”
“It’s easier to keep tabs on the bad guys in a small country than it is in a big one. Just be careful where you go.”
CHAPTER 26
Saturday afternoon, Hana parked down the street from the townhome where Ben and Sadie lived. She and Leon passed four minivans alongside the sidewalk. Delayed by work that had forced her to go into the office, she was forty-five minutes late for the party. One of the workers at the day care center had been teaching Leon how to walk on a leash, and Hana was impressed by the dog’s developing discipline.
“Trust me,” Ben said when Hana called to ask permission to bring Leon. “A puppy will not add much to the chaos caused by a houseful of six- and seven-year-old girls. We have a small fenced-in backyard where your dog can take refuge from the mob if it gets to be too much for him.”
Birthday balloons decorated the front porch of the townhome. A woman who looked to be in her sixties with beautiful white hair opened the door. Hana immediately recognized her as Gloria’s mother. The facial resemblance between grandmother, daughter, and granddaughter was unmistakable. Hana could hear high-pitched squeals inside the house.
“I’m Florence Dershowitz, one of Sadie’s grandmothers,” the woman said with a warm smile. “You must be Ms. Abboud.”
“Hana, please.”
Leon’s manners disappeared at the sounds and smells coming from inside the house. He yelped and strained on the leash.
“And this is Leon,” Hana added, jerking the leash backward. “He wants to join the party.”
Hana followed Mrs. Dershowitz through a small foyer into a large living room-dining room combination. The furniture had been pushed against the walls to clear space for the party. A large banner proclaimed, “Happy Birthday, Sadie!” at one end of the room. Hana placed her present, an outfit for the doll Fabia, on a table covered with gifts.
The girls were playing a relay game in which they had to grab a balloon, run across the room to a chair, and pop the balloon by sitting down on it. There were two lines of girls. Sadie was next in line to pop a balloon. One of her friends tagged Sadie’s hand. When Sadie turned around to sit in the chair, she saw Hana and hesitated.
“Pop the balloon, Sadie!” Hana called out.
Several adults who hadn’t noticed Hana’s entrance turned and saw her. The prolonged looks she received made her slightly uncomfortable. Ben, carrying Fabia in one hand, came out of the kitchen.
“Did you receive my text about being late?” Hana asked.
“Yes, and I told Sadie so she wouldn’t be anxious about it.”
“What are you doing with
Fabia?”
“Babysitting,” Ben said, handing the doll to Hana and turning back to the kitchen. “I need to put the candles on the cake.”
Hana could tell that the doll had been receiving a lot of attention. Her clothes were disheveled, her hair matted. A new outfit would be the perfect remedy.
“Sadie and Fabia are inseparable,” Mrs. Dershowitz said after Ben left. “She told me you have a niece with that name.”
“Actually, Fabia is a cousin,” Hana replied. “We spent a lot of time together when we were growing up.”
Sadie’s balloon popped, and she scampered back to her team.
“Sadie looks a lot like you,” Hana said to Mrs. Dershowitz.
“And has her mother’s personality.”
After the final balloon popped, Sadie left her group and ran over to Hana and Leon. She knelt down so the puppy could lick her face. Hana started to pull the dog away.
“It’s okay,” Mrs. Dershowitz said. “To hear her laugh like that is worth a few dog germs.”
“Can you let him go so we can play with him?” Sadie begged.
Hana unhooked the leash, and within seconds the puppy was surrounded by little girls. Leon wiggled with delight at the sensory overload of multiple hands on his fur. Ben reappeared with a large rectangular birthday cake.
Soon the partygoers crowded around in a tight circle and Sadie blew out the candles. Hana ended up standing next to a woman who looked to be about her own age. After the candles were out, the woman turned to Hana.
“I’m Marissa Cohen. Ben is my younger brother.”
Hana introduced herself.
“You’re the new lawyer representing Ben in his lawsuit, right?”
“Yes.”
Ben began cutting small pieces of cake for the girls.
“Do you have experience suing terrorists?” Marissa asked.
Hana briefly explained her role in international business law. Even though Marissa was Ben’s sister, she had to be careful not to violate attorney-client confidentiality.
“If that’s your area of expertise, why get involved in a lawsuit about Gloria’s murder?”
Chosen People Page 22
