“He’s five. His name is Rubi and he’s all right for now, cared for by two nannies. But fear not, if his mother doesn’t return to him it won’t be long before he too goes crazy like his brother and mother.”
“Who’s in the hands of Ben David.”
“That’s the most interesting part of this mess. At some point, Muriel couldn’t take the pressure of living with Marin and fled the castle. Marin didn’t know where she went, nor did the kids, and at first they suspected she’d returned to her parents in a remote town in Canada. His lawyer, Darmond, used an investigation company that discovered her in Portugal. Marin promised not to bother her, and transfers money to her every month through Darmond. From the phone conversations we’ve just heard, it turns out that Ben David also knows where she is, in a place he calls ‘the Lulav.’ He is in touch with her, scheming to bring Joel under his influence. Ben David and Vivian’s assumption is that when Marin discovers how close his wife and son have grown to Judaism, he too will make a similar move; coming completely under Ben David’s sphere of influence. Then Vivian can involve him in her business plans.”
“It’s not necessarily a cold country,” said Sally, pensive.
“He said ‘it’s cold outside.’”
“It could be a figure of speech, just like he calls himself ‘we.’ The term ‘fire of Torah’ could refer to the laws of Judaism, which the rabbi’s wife he referred to is teaching her, and the cold outside could be secularism or lack of spirituality. As for ‘Lulav—’” she looked at Jacob “—do you have any idea?”
“Not yet,” Jacob admitted.
“We should follow the rabbi,” Sally said decisively.
“We are, we are. When he’s not in Gstaad, he only hangs around Beersheba.”
“Where in Beersheba?”
“We have a list of places from the past week.” He slid a sheet of paper across the table in between Sally’s arms. “Bank Hapoalim,” she read. “Market, Bank Hapoalim, post office, an apartment on Reger Street, the eye department of Soroka Hospital, an apartment on Rabin Street—he has a key, a house on Tamar Street—the bank, a lawyer’s office on Herzl Street, apartment on Rabin Street—”
“His mother lives on Rabin Street,” Jacob commented. “The name on the door is Dadoshvili and the neighbors say she’s mean.”
Sally chuckled and scanned the list again. “What do the door signs of the apartments he visited say?”
Jacob looked at the report again. “The Reger Street apartment says the Lavie family, and the one on Tamar Street says Dr. Havkowitz. Havkowitz is the registered owner. He’s very old, around ninety. The neighbors say he never leaves the house.”
“Chances are the woman is there,” Sally said confidently.
Jacob looked at her, astonished. “You think you’re smarter than my investigators?”
“Where does the word Lulav come from?” Sally asked back.
“I don’t know; it’s related to the Hebrew word for blossom.”
“It means heart. Lulav is the heart of the date tree, or in Hebrew, tamar.”
“Isn’t it cut from a palm tree?”
“Palms are the family of trees dates belong to, as well as other fruit, even coconut trees. The daughter of a citrus farmer should take her biology studies seriously, shouldn’t she? Anyway, the woman is on Tamar Street and Ben David alluded to that in his conversation with Vivian, who is also traditional and, unlike you, knows what tree the Lulav is cut from.”
“You just have to be sarcastic, don’t you?” Jacob smiled. “All right, I’ll send someone over there.”
“I’ll go,” said Sally.
“We agreed you wouldn’t interfere. I don’t want him to see you and identify you.”
“It will happen sooner or later, won’t it?” Sally blurted out as she stood up. “Let me try.”
“All right, but if you’re such a professional, let’s see you bring back a few photos of her. We only have images taken from Vogue magazine. Today she surely looks different.”
“I’ll bring them,” Sally said and left the room.
18.
They parked the car across the road from 55 Tamar Street. It was a single story building like Ben David’s house, but much smaller. Unlike Ben David’s wall-encircled home, the building was surrounded by a white fence. The gaps in the fence revealed a neglected yard. “The principle is clear,” Diana said. “He chooses homes where the neighbors have no idea who lives in them.”
Sally nodded in agreement. “She can walk around the house, go out to the yard, and unless you stand right next to the fence and peek in, you have no idea she’s there.”
“You don’t know if she’s there either,” said Diana and straightened the lapel of her jacket, where a tiny camera was hidden. “I don’t think we’ll have anything to film. The place looks abandoned.”
“Any idea how to find out who’s there?” asked Sally. “You probably learned a few methods in the unit you served in.”
“I’m an expert at connected wires and tapping into phones, not tricks. Of us two, you’re the trickster.”
“All right, let’s get out of here before the neighbors grow suspicious,” said Sally, frustrated. “We’ll get a bite to eat and think of something.”
A grumble rose from the back seat of the car.
“Brutus also needs to drink, and maybe pee,” cautioned Diana. She turned around and patted the back of a giant setter dog lying there. “Soon Brutus, soon you’ll get a drink.”
“I still don’t know why you had to drag him here,” murmured Sally as she began driving away.
“I told you, he suffers from separation anxiety.”
“I can’t believe such a huge dog is anxious about anything.”
“He’s big, but has the soul of a baby.”
“And you never leave him alone?”
“No. When the kids are in school and Alex is at work he rides with me, like today.”
Sally slowed down next to Aroma Café. “Let’s see if they’ll let us bring him in.”
“Never mind, we’ll sit outside,” declared Diana. “While you park the car I’ll take him for a short walk.”
A few moments later they were sitting in the front porch of the café, two plastic cups of water on the table, exchanging ideas about how to penetrate the house. Diana was already at the wild stage. “I’ll pretend to be a pizza deliverer.” She laughed.
Sally stared at Brutus who was energetically licking water from a plastic bowl.
“How about an electric company servicewoman?” continued Diana, “or someone from the water company?”
“That’s not funny,” objected Sally, still looking at the dog. “We need a brilliant idea.”
The waitress brought a dish of lasagna and two plates. Brutus stood erect and sniffed the air. “Look what smart eyes he has,” Diana said, caressing his head.
“You know, he really does look smart,” Sally said. “So smart that he could solve our problem. If we’re able to get him into her yard, we could call and ask her to let him out.”
“I couldn’t do that to my dog. She could hurt him or—”
“How would she hurt him? Look at him; he looks like a small horse.”
“I told you, he only looks big. Besides, he could get scared and start going wild.”
“That’s exactly what I want to happen. Let him go wild in the yard, turn things over, cause damage, and then she’ll have to open up and let us take him.”
“No!” said Diana decisively.
“All right,” Sally relented. “Then let’s just pass by there one more time and take a picture of the house from the outside.” She pushed away the plate. “It’s not that good. You have some. Maybe Brutus would like some at home.”
“Can we pack this to go?” Diana asked the waitress. On the way to the car she added, “I want you to understand.
I’ll do anything to help you, but I can’t put Brutus in danger.”
“I understand.”
“Really?”
“Really and truly.”
On Tamar Street, nothing had changed. The sidewalks were empty and an afternoon breeze swept fallen bougainvillea flowers from the nearby yards. Sally stared at the house. “Look at that.” She suddenly pointed at a small door in the picket fence.
“That’s the door for rubbish disposal. Do you want to push through it? You won’t be able to.”
“First of all, if I wanted to, I could. Secondly, if we were to open the door, take out the rubbish, throw the lasagna over the fence as far as possible, and get Brutus to jump in, we could ring the doorbell and ask—”
“Out of the question. Haven’t I said that yet?”
“Stop being negative and think. If the smallest thing happens to Brutus, he can always come back through the rubbish door. Besides, the lasagna we brought for him was my portion. Don’t you think I deserve something in return?”
Diana burst out laughing. “You’re funny, do you know that? Funny and crazy.” She got out of the car and opened the back door. Brutus jumped onto the sidewalk and she rushed to grab the collar on his neck.
They walked him to the wooden door, which opened without difficulty, and pulled the bin out. Diana gently directed the dog to the empty niche and Sally let him smell the bag with the lasagna. He opened his muzzle excitedly. Sally pulled the bag back and threw it far into the yard. Brutus pushed his way through the narrow gate and rushed into the yard. “Now,” said Sally. She closed the wooden door and they both hurried to the locked gate and pressed the doorbell. Somewhere inside the bell sounded, but no response could be heard.
They rang again. Diana peeked through the fence. Brutus devoured the remaining lasagna. “In two or three minutes, he’ll start going wild and looking for a way out,” she said worriedly.
Sally rang the doorbell relentlessly.
“Who is it?” called a woman in English.
“My dog jumped into your yard. Can you open the get to let him out?”
Through a crack in the fence she could see a blind open slightly. “She’s looking out,” Sally told Diana.
“Brutus finished eating and is playing with the bag,” Diana reported back.
The blind closed. “Now she’ll come,” said Sally hopefully.
She didn’t come. Brutus started whimpering and after a short scurry in the yard, he disappeared behind the house. Diana panicked. “If there’s no fence there, he’ll disappear. How will I ever find him in the desert?”
Before she finished speaking, Brutus returned. A woman dressed in a housecoat was walking him, gently holding his collar. Even through the narrow crack, Sally could tell she was pretty, even beautiful. “Get ready to take a picture,” she said. Diana straightened her lapel and shoved her hand into her pocket, pressing a button. “Everything’s ready,” she said.
Keys rattled and the gate opened. Brutus jumped on Diana and licked her face, hiding the camera lens. Sally pulled the collar, tugging Brutus away as she looked at the woman. Her figure was slim and tall. Two births, depression, and heavy drinking had left it undamaged. Her tired face was still remarkable. Sections of her graying hair still preserved their original blonde tint, and her blue eyes shone through her clouded gaze. “We’re so grateful to you,” Sally said in English.
The woman seemed embarrassed. Sally continued. “Are you new here?”
“Yeah, only a few months. You also have a different accent, not an Israeli one.” She seemed happy to meet another expatriate. “Where are you from?”
“Sweden,” Sally repeated her old story. “How about you?”
“It’s complicated,” said the woman, and Sally could pick up the loneliness in her eyes. “A bit from Canada, a bit from Switzerland…”
“We have time.” She turned her head to Diana, who kept her hands in her pocket. “We could chat a little, if you’re free.”
“But I…” The woman looked at them, lost. “I need to go,” she said anxiously as she closed the gate. “Have a good day.”
“Did you take her picture?” asked Sally as they got into the car.
“Twenty or thirty photos, with and without Brutus. What do you think of her?”
“She’s very pretty, very lonely, and very scared. I think it’s time to make a slideshow out of the photos and call Marin.”
19.
“We have no person registered under that name,” the Swiss telephone operator declared. Sally couldn’t find Marin’s number online either, and an in-depth search only revealed a number of companies where Marin served as president or CEO. Some of them were listed on the Zurich, Frankfurt, London, and New York stock exchanges, and their annual reports were open for review. Sally delved into them. She found that most of the companies dealt with mining or mineral processing in one way or another. The majority shareholder was Cosmos Holdings, registered in Vaduz, Liechtenstein.
Was Marin behind Cosmos Holdings?
The company website displayed phone numbers of offices in South Africa, Liberia, Singapore, and Colombia. Three numbers had a Swiss country code: In Zurich, Berne, and Geneva. Sally picked Geneva, the city where—according to Vivian Moyal—she mediated a meeting between Marin and Pakistani representatives. “What matter does this concern?” asked a woman in detached politeness when Sally asked for Marin.
“It’s a personal matter.”
“What personal matter?” asked the woman.
“Personal is personal, isn’t it?” replied Sally, defiantly.
“You’ll have to tell me what this is about,” repeated the secretary, patiently. “That’s the rule.”
“I have a message for him from Vivian Moyal.”
The secretary was unimpressed. “You can convey the message through me.”
“I was asked to deliver it myself.”
“Mr. Marin doesn’t speak to people without a convincing reason, and with all due respect, Madame Moyal is not a convincing reason.”
The answer didn’t surprise Sally. She also never considered Vivian more than so much hot air. Suddenly an idea occurred to her. “Tell him I know where the lost necklace he received from his mother is.”
“Where is it?” For the first time, the secretary sounded interested.
“I’ll tell him that myself.”
“Maybe you’d like to add a detail or two, confirming you are referring to the same necklace?” The secretary’s enthusiasm broke through her icy shield. “No,” said Sally with more than a little gloating, “there’s nothing to add. I’ll give you a phone number and he can call me back.”
After hanging up, Sally started on her house chores, certain that the phone would soon ring. But it only rang a few hours later, when the children had already returned from school and sat down to lunch. “Madame Amir?” a pleasant male voice asked.
“Yes,” Sally replied.
“This is Pierre Marin,” he continued in polished English. “I understand you wanted to tell me something.”
Her heart pounded. “Yes, concerning the lost necklace.”
Marin was silent.
“I know who’s keeping it, and I also have additional information concerning your wife and your older son.”
To her surprise, Marin remained silent. She wondered whether he was unmoved by her revelation, or perhaps just good at hiding his feelings. “Hello?” she said.
After a brief additional moment of quiet, Marin asked, “Who’s keeping it?”
Sally decided to reveal another card. “Rabbi Ben David. Actually, he’s not a rabbi. He’s an imposter.”
“Are you connected to him?”
“Not at all,” replied Sally sharply. “I want to help. I owe you a big favor.”
Silence again.
“Many years ago, when I arrived
in London penniless, I received a generous stipend from your foundation that allowed me to exist, study, and get married. Thanks to your help, I became what I am today.”
“I understand,” he said.
“For a while I’ve suspected that you are being cheated, and the thought is making me restless. I have lots of information on the man who calls himself Ben David, on the place where your wife is, and on the way they plan to bring over your son.”
“Who is ‘they’?”
“The rabbi and another woman you know.”
“Vivian Moyal?”
This time it was Sally’s turn to shut up.
“In the telephone conversation with my secretary you said you wanted to pass on a message from her,” Marin said, still in a dry voice. “I can add one plus one, as you may imagine. Why are they doing this?”
“Money,” Sally replied curtly.
“All right,” said Marin, his voice infused with excitement. “I want to meet you, as quickly as possible.”
“When will you be in Israel?”
He continued, ignoring her question. “Give the secretary your details, please. Tomorrow morning, a first-class ticket will await you at Ben Gurion Airport for a Swiss flight to Geneva. A limousine will take you from the airport to my home. When you arrive, you can stay in my guest quarters and—”
“Excuse me,” Sally interrupted him, “I truly appreciate your hospitality Mr. Marin, but I’m a married woman. I can’t leave my husband, fly to you alone, and stay at your home.”
Marin answered without hesitation, “In that case, give my secretary your husband’s details as well.”
“I don’t know if he can make himself available.”
Marin lost his temper. “As I said, coordinate with Madame Calderon, my secretary,” he ordered. “I expect to see you and I would like it to be soon.” He hung up without saying goodbye, and Sally was reminded of the recorded conversation between Ben David and Vivian. The imposter rabbi also hung up with no words of parting. Was this the behavior he learned from the man whose soul he took over?
She called Jerry’s office. “I spoke to Marin,” she said excitedly, “I mean he called me. I told him everything.”
Married to the Mossad Page 7
