by [Kamal
“You made history today, Ben. Thanks to you, the walls of Jericho may have come down for good, and the world is looking in.”
“Let’s hope they like what they see,” Ben replied.
* * * *
B
en driftedoff anddidn’t comearound againuntil Danielleshook his shoulder. His eyes opened groggily and once more he breathed in her soft scent.
“I thought you’d like to know Radji’s asking for you.”
“I’d give him some blood, but I’m afraid he’d get to like the Demerol too much.”
“Amazing the resiliency of the young.”
“Fortunately the young of most cultures don’t have to deal with knives in their stomachs.”
“No, in some cultures it’s car bombs.” She ended the retort with a forced smile. “It’s good to see you’re feeling better.”
Ben propped himself up on his elbows. “What’s wrong?”
“It can wait.”
“Not from the look on your face, it can’t.”
Danielle took a deep breath. “I think you were right. I think there were two killers.”
Ben sat up a little more.
“Ansar 3 conveniently had no record of Abu Garib being detained there until you killed him. All at once, the records of his incarceration were suddenly available.”
“You went there?”
Danielle nodded.
“What else?”
“The case reports on the murders Shin Bet investigated before the pullout have been tampered with. Something’s missing.”
“Any idea what?”
“Not yet. But it’s clear we knew far more than we ever let on to the world.”
“Enough to create a copycat killer?”
“That depends on what was deleted from the files.”
This time it was Ben who looked less than convinced. “Radji identified Garib as the killer. That’s good enough for me.”
He tried to look away, but Danielle’s voice wouldn’t let him. “You’re scared again. I’m sorry.”
“I never stopped being scared, Danielle.”
“What happened on the boat brought it all back to you.”
“At least this time only the monster died.”
“And you saved a boy’s life.”
“Who knows? If he’s really lucky, they might take him back at the refugee camp.”
* * * *
B
en visitedRadji aftersundown. Theboy stilllooked groggyand pale. A thick bandage covered his entire midsection. But his liquidy dark eyes found Ben and followed him across the room.
“No fucking television,” the boy said softly between dried-out lips. “In the hospital there should be television.”
“I’ll speak with the mayor.”
“They wouldn’t let me see my sister.”
“She’s in the hospital in Jericho. We’re in Jerusalem.”
“Does she have television?”
“I don’t think so.”
Radji shifted painfully. “Speak with the mayor about that, too.”
Ben laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Anything else?”
“I got stabbed. It hurt. And it was a fucking waste.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t realize until I was very close to him.”
“Realize what?”
Radji’s eyes locked open. “The man on the boat wasn’t the one I saw from the alley.”
* * * *
* * * *
Chapter 45
I
t was the pungent scent of cigar smoke that woke Ben up the next time. He surfaced disoriented in the darkness broken only by the light from the dim outdoor lamps sneaking in through his window. He had lost the rest of the night, hours swimming by somewhere in the Demerol-powered cloud. He fumbled for the bedside clock and it slipped off the table, hitting the floor with a crash.
“Just after two in the a.m., hoss,” Colonel Frank Brickland greeted him.
“You shouldn’t smoke in here,” Ben told him.
“I know, bad for my health.”
“I was thinking of mine.”
“That what the guards are for?”
“Mostly to keep unauthorized individuals out.”
“I showed them my pass.”
Ben laced his hands behind his head. As with everything else right now, it took considerable effort.
“I guess you’ll be going back home now, Colonel.”
“Pissed off I didn’t send you flowers?”
“I was talking about going back to America.”
“Haven’t found my son yet, Benny.”
“At least you know he’s still alive.”
“He wasn’t the victim you found Sunday, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dead.”
“You’d know if he was.”
“What makes you say that?”
It wasn’t easy for Ben to put into words. “On the boat, when I was holding the boy, I knew he was going to live.”
“And you’re not even related.”
“My point exactly.”
Brickland’s attitude toward Ben had clearly changed since their initial encounters. Ben’s mind pushed the fog far enough aside to understand the colonel considered them equals now. Ben had passed the test that morning on the boat, and had the bandages and bruises to prove it. To Brickland, they were trophies.
“You know it’s not over, don’t you?” he asked the colonel.
Brickland smiled like his teeth were ready to chew steel. “What’d the kid tell you?”
“How do you know I’ve been to see him?”
“Because I would.”
“He says the man I killed wasn’t the one he saw kill Fasil. He claimed that man had a scar. The Wolf—Garib—didn’t.”
“You’re still a hero.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Welcome to the club. Don’t tell me any of this surprises you, hoss.”
“I was surprised when all the indications pointed to a single killer.”
“That’s because you’re up against clever opponents who aren’t about to leave anything to chance.”
“You’re talking about the Israelis.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them; hell, I’d expect it of them. They don’t want to do anything that might fuck up the peace process, but the terrorists are determined to do just that and they’ve got to be stopped somehow.”
“My thinking, too.”
“Then think about this, hoss: you and your Israeli girlfriend keep pushing the envelope and people on both sides are gonna get plenty pissed off. They like closure, and you gave it to them today when you saved the state the bother of an execution. Now you want to take it away, walk out of here and tell them there’s a second killer still out there nobody’s caught yet. I can see their faces now. ...”
“It’s not just the killer: it’s Fasil.”
“You lost me.”
“He came to Jericho from Tel Aviv twice in the last two weeks, both times to attend meetings. Hamas kidnapped me because they couldn’t find something in his personal effects they were looking for after he was killed. That makes me think Fasil was in the middle of planning something big.”
“And maybe that ‘something’ didn’t die with him, that it?”
“Maybe.”
“You think he was targeting the peace talks?”
“You read his file, Colonel. He was one of the best and most deadly Hamas had. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
Brickland pulled the cigar from his mouth and let the smoke drift toward the ceiling. “La, la, la, hoss. You’re humming a tune that ain’t gonna play well for either side. Dredge all this shit up and you’ll do Fasil’s work on the peace talks for him. Nobody’s going to want to listen no matter how tightly you tie things up.”
“Got any advice?”
“Same as before: walk away. Far as you can.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Then turn your back. Have your ca
ke and eat it, hoss. Stay a hero and tell yourself that whatever Fasil was working on died with him. Call up your Israeli girlfriend and take her out on a date.”
“Dates,” Ben said suddenly, sitting straight up in bed.
“What about them, hoss?”
“Something I just remembered . . .”
* * * *
Y
ouwere right,” Ben said, after waking Danielle up with a phone call. “There is a second killer.”
“You were right, too,” she returned, chasing the sleep from her voice. “But can we prove it?”
“Radji says Abu Garib wasn’t the man he saw kill Fasil.”
“That won’t be enough.”
“There’s more. What if Fasil wasn’t the only terrorist the copycat killer was responsible for? What if he had targeted Fasil’s entire cell? You told me Fasil had been to the West Bank passing himself off as Harvey Fayles once before.”
“Around two weeks ago.”
“Fifteen days now, to be precise.” Ben paused. “The very same night Leila Khalil was killed in Jericho.”
* * * *
Chapter 46
Y
ouare to be commended for your outstanding work in this matter,” Raz Nitzav Hershell Giott said to Danielle early Sunday morning.
“As well as your discretion,” added Moshe Baruch. “This investigation is certain to quicken your advancement through our ranks.”
Giott spoke again. “I was actually thinking that you might perhaps want to return to the National Police as an assistant commissioner.”
“As an undercover operative, you will of course be spared the press conferences and resulting publicity.” Baruch turned to Giott, perhaps doubting himself. “But God knows we could use some favorable press, and if she is to accept your offer ...”
“Pakad Barnea would be best advised to take some time off at this point,” Giott suggested in a fatherly tone. He turned to Danielle. “Visit one of the resorts at Elat.”
Danielle found it incredibly ironic. Just one week before she had been looking for a way out, and now it was hers, on wondrous terms to boot, and she wanted no part of it. She couldn’t leave this case now, couldn’t leave Ben.
“A good idea,” she said anyway. “I think I will.”
More talk was exchanged, but none of it meaningful; all meaning in the room had ceased for Danielle with the lie she was nurturing. She could not tell these men about the possible existence of a second murderer and altered case files. If her and Ben’s suspicions turned out to be accurate, then the trail would lead, inevitably, back to Israel and maybe even to them. Her life would be on the line. She would have to tread very lightly while following that trail, wondering where it might take her.
“Enjoy your time off, Pakad,” Giott said at the door, squeezing her shoulders warmly. “And think about my offer.”
“Thank you,” she replied with a smile. “I will.”
* * * *
B
en leftthe hospitalwithout beingformally discharged,and took a cab back to Jericho. He entered the old police building through a side door just as the press conference with Arafat and the Israeli Defense Minister was scheduled to begin in Jerusalem. He was almost at his office on the first floor when he heard a voice from the other end of the hall.
“I thought I would find you here, Inspector.”
Ben turned and found himself face-to-face with Major Nabril al-Asi, dressed today in an elegant olive-taupe suit that bagged fashionably over his sinewy frame.
“I see your Armani came in, Major.”
“I should give you the name of my tailor,” al-Asi said, drawing a little closer. “I understand congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you.”
Al-Asi made a show out of checking his watch. “As a matter of fact, I believe you are supposed to be elsewhere right now.”
“I’ve had my fill of hospitals.”
“A lesson you’d be wise to remember for future reference.” Al-Asi’s stare narrowed, sharpened. “You have done your job exceedingly well, and for that I applaud you. You should consider that job done now and celebrate with everyone else.”
“I intend to.”
“That’s my hope. You see, Inspector, I would never get in the way of a man doing his job here, even if it happened to contradict my own interests. But if a man were to contradict my own interests while doing something other than his job, I would have to involve myself.”
Ben stood his ground. “Is that all?”
“Unless you’d like me to have one of my men drive you back to Jerusalem.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
‘‘I think it is.”
“Why don’t you call Sumaya, tell him you found me?”
Al-Asi scoffed at the remark. “If I called anyone, it would be Arafat. But Arafat does not like to be bothered until I have something to report. What would that be now, Inspector?”
“That I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him,” Ben said, and continued on to his office.
Once inside, with the door closed behind him, Ben turned his attention to the complete case file on the first victim murdered in Jericho, Leila Khalil. After his previous experience at their home, he knew there would be no cooperation coming from the family. That left one other interested party, who had been questioned several times, but only cursorily: her boyfriend, an eighteen-year-old young man named Siyad Hijjawi, who had been among those in the car that had dropped Leila Khalil off.
Muslim tradition dictated that children go out in groups, rather than couples. Everything about Hijjawi’s statement was consistent with that, except for a single line Ben had failed to take heed of until now:
I went straight home afterward. Left the car in the street and went to bed.
Then how had the others who said they had been in the car when Leila Khalil was dropped off gotten home? Hijjawi had stumbled over his words a bit because he must have been alone when he dropped the victim off. Ben never would have noticed the anomaly if a potential link between Leila Khalil and the infamous terrorist Mohammed Fasil had not cast Hijjawi in a potential new light.
He had an idea what was going on here now, and it terrified him.
* * * *
D
anielle went straight from her meeting at National Police headquarters to East Jerusalem, where Lieutenant Yori Resnick was supervising a security zone. According to Danielle’s case report, Resnick, then a sergeant, had initially been in charge of the investigation into the first murder eventually attributed to the Wolf in the Muslim Quarter of Jerusalem.
“Of course, I remember the case,” he told her in his office. “Seeing a body in that condition, well, it’s not something you easily forget.”
“The report was vague on how you proceeded.”
Resnick looked at her quizzically. “That’s strange, because I was quite specific, I’m sure I was. The victim was killed late at night, so we weren’t expecting much. But there were two other couples in the area, hidden from plain view, schtupping maybe, we never found out one way or the other.”
“The report said the victim was going to meet her boyfriend.”
“A coincidence. The other couples did not know her or each other. We weren’t even sure if their descriptions of the man they saw right around the time of the murder meant anything until we realized both descriptions of him were virtually the same.”
Danielle’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, you’re saying you had a description of the killer?”
“Better than that, we put each couple separately with the same sketch artist and the portraits that emerged were almost identical.”
Danielle could not believe what she’d just heard. “There was a drawing of the suspect?”
“Passed along to Shin Bet as soon as they assumed control of the investigation. You seem surprised.”
