Married to the Mossad

by Hessel, Shalva

  “All right,” said Sally, “let’s assume he’s a saint. There are many saints. If he wants to remain Marin’s adviser, I demand three things of him: One, to bring Muriel home. I know she doesn’t want to live with Mr. Marin, but I can convince him to rent her a house in Gstaad with all expenses covered, and also provide her a monthly stipend of, say, fifteen thousand dollars.”

  “And what if she doesn’t agree?”

  “She will continue to live in Beersheba, penniless and disconnected from her children.”

  “She wants to live there to be close to the rabbi, who will prepare her son for his bar mitzvah Torah reading.”

  Sally expected that reaction. “A few months prior to the bar mitzvah, Ben David will be able to come to Gstaad, stay at a hotel, and teach Joel. That solves the problem, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m writing it all down.”

  “The second demand is that he stops asking Marin for money. All payments will go through me. He will receive travel money and be paid for the lessons he gives Joel, but nothing beyond that.”

  “Rabbi Ben David is sought after worldwide. If he travels to Marin, he’ll be waiving significant income. Why should he agree to your offer?”

  “So that he can continue calling himself Pierre Marin’s spiritual adviser. That’s worth a lot of money in the holiness market,” Sally snickered. “It’s the perfect deal. Ben David maintains his fake reputation and doesn’t need to return a penny of the money he cheated Marin out of.” Ovadia exhaled in protest. Sally ignored it and continued. “And Mr. Marin will have his wife back. In addition, his son will be immersed in Judaism. Marin is a good Jew, who would seriously like a Jewish family. Before you ask why you should agree, let me remind you of the felonies you’ve committed: Forgery, first degree fraud, extortion under false pretexts—”

  “You said you had three demands,” Ovadia interrupted her, swallowing his pride. “I only heard two: Returning Muriel and stopping the payments from Marin. What is the third?”

  “A payment of two hundred thousand dollars.”

  Ovadia fell silent.

  “Are you still there?”

  “I just wonder why a rich man like Marin would ask a poor rabbi for two hundred thousand dollars.”

  Sally waited a moment before dropping the bomb. “It’s not for Marin, it’s for me. I also deserve part of what Ben David earned from Marin, no?”

  Ovadia laughed nervously. “Yes, I mean, I’m not sure the rabbi will agree.”

  “He’s no fool. He knows what’s good for him.”

  “I didn’t realize you were also—how should I put it?—like that.”

  “We’re all like that,” Sally said and hung up.

  Part Two

  27.

  A white slope could be seen from the windows, like the slope below Pierre Marin’s mansion. The vicinity to the mansion was one of the reasons Sally chose the house at the edge of Gstaad, hoping to reduce Rubi and Joel’s sense of detachment from their father.

  But the children could not be consoled with all the riches of the land of whipped cream: A network of ski slopes surrounding the tiny, rich town. Rubi sobbed and Joel, his older brother, stared at Sally suspiciously. “Are you sure she’ll arrive today?” he asked.

  “She should be here any minute.”

  “Why is she only coming now?” Rubi asked. “Didn’t she love us before?”

  “She loves you a lot, but she was sick.”

  “That’s not true,” Joel said. “She didn’t want to live with our father. I heard her shouting before she left. She told him he’s a cold man. What is a cold man?”

  “Do you want to go out to the garden and wait for her?” Sally evaded the question.

  “What is a cold man?” Joel asked again.

  A toot sounded outside. Rubi sprung up and leaped to the door. Joel rushed behind him. Sally knocked on the nanny’s door, and when she opened it, she signaled her to come out. Sally herself remained in the modest living room, monitoring the entrance to the house through the window.

  A large car entered the property with a soft purr of its engine. Only the screeching of tires on gravel could be heard. The moment it stopped, Rubi circled it running, banging on its doors and shouting, “Mommy, Mommy!” A door opened and two long legs draped in an ankle-length dress emerged. Muriel’s arms, also fully covered, reached out to hug Rubi. Joel stepped hesitantly toward his mother, and she detached one arm from Rubi and stretched it out toward her elder son, beckoning him to come. Joel stood where he was. Muriel got out of the car and approached him, Rubi still clinging to her thigh. “Come, my dear. I love you.”

  “You’re a bad mother!” Joel shouted. “You left Dad and didn’t take us with you. We mean nothing to you!”

  Muriel glanced at the driver who was busy extracting her suitcases from the boot, then at the nanny who stood frozen at the door, and burst into tears. Sally withdrew from the window with a heavy heart. She passed quickly through the rooms and left the house through the back door. A silver Bentley flashed its lights at her. Sally got into the car and sat next to Marin. “Is everything okay?” he asked as the car started driving.

  “Rubi is happy. Joel is angry at Muriel for not taking them when she left. I hope she can calm him.”

  “She’ll know how to,” said Marin with an air of conviction. “She always knew how to deal with them. I’m glad they’re with her now. Did you agree on the days when they will come to me?”

  “It’s all written in the agreement. The children will live here, in Gstaad, and visit you twice a week and every other weekend. In any event, I plan to place twenty-four hour surveillance on the house.”

  Marin examined the fancy street outside through the car window. “Why? What can go wrong? The children have gotten their mother back; Muriel has a house for herself and lives away from me. Everyone is satisfied, no?”

  “Ben David isn’t satisfied. I think he hasn’t given up on the original goal he had when he took control of Muriel—to reach your money. He lost a lot on this round, but will try to make it up on the next one, when he comes to prepare Joel for his bar mitzvah. There’s no telling if he won’t try to seduce Muriel into taking another spiritual trip to Israel. This time Rubi and Joel will not let go of her. They will come with her, and you’ll have to cooperate if you want to stay in touch with them.”

  “Maybe we can find another rabbi to prepare Joel?”

  “She won’t agree. To her, Ben David is God’s emissary on earth.”

  Marin opened the minibar door and poured them both glasses of liquor.

  “Therefore,” Sally added, “I must know what he’s up to so I can act immediately.”

  “Twenty-four hour surveillance costs money—a lot of money. I want to know the cost in advance, before I find myself committed to a fortune in fees. I still owe you reimbursement for travel, the private investigator, the friend who helped you—”

  “She’ll be here tomorrow and replace me while I’m in Israel.”

  “That’s another expense. I want to know how much I owe you until now.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Please!” his voice rose with impatience.

  “Why are you angry?”

  “Because when I’m told I owe nothing for a service, I know I will eventually pay double. There are no free meals. Please explain this game of yours. How much do I owe? How much more will I have to pay?”

  Sally laughed. The embarrassment she caused this strong man amused her. “You don’t need to know everything.”

  Marin banged his hand on the seat back. “It’s my money and I need to know what is done with it.”

  “I’m not paying the investigator and my friend with your money.”

  “Don’t play with me,” Marin fumed. “I don’t like riddles and you’re becoming too big of a riddle, Sally. It’s true you’ve
only done me good so far, but if you insist on hiding details from me, our story is over.”

  Sally bit her bottom lip. “All right,” she said. “I’ll explain. I’m really not proud of what I’m going to tell you, but I considered it a form of justice. I rescued some money from Ben David, a fraction of what he took from you. In my agreement with Ovadia there was an article I didn’t tell you about, whereby Ben David gave me two hundred thousand dollars. He’s sure I pocketed the sum. In fact, I used it to pay the investigator in Israel and the investigators who follow Muriel, I funded my travel, Diana’s salary, and—”

  “Wait,” Marin said. “You’re telling me you managed to get two hundred thousand dollars from Ben David and didn’t even take a dollar?”

  Sally nodded. “I deposited all of it to an account I opened in Credit Suisse, and I only withdraw funds related to this case.”

  “What are you made of, Sally?”

  “I’m made of what any person should be—mind, feeling, and conscience.”

  “I’ve lived many years without meeting a person like you.”

  “You’re living in the wrong places. You were born into wealth and have lived an affluent life. Affluence is deceiving. When you have enough money, it does good. When you have too much, it becomes harmful and attracts the wrong people.”

  Marin shook his head trying to understand. “I still don’t believe it. You don’t want anything in return for all you’ve done for me?”

  “I do this because it’s important for me to heal the world around me. I especially want to correct your impression of the Jews, your brethren, and help you to return to your Judaism.”

  “Ben David is also Jewish.”

  “Ben David is a Jew who went bad. He gives the Jewish people a bad reputation. That’s why I allowed myself to trick him about the money. Deceit is an ugly act, but when it’s geared at harming a villain like Ben David and bringing about a result that rectifies the wrong he caused others, it’s justified.”

  The car stopped at the entrance to the mansion. Jacques extended his hand through the window and tapped the entrance code. “Are you comfortable in the guesthouse?” Marin asked suddenly.

  Sally was surprised. It was the first time since she started working with him that Marin took interest in her well-being. “Yes, absolutely. It has everything.”

  “And you don’t miss Jerry?” he added with a curious smile.

  “Very much,” she added. “I wish he could come.”

  “Money is no issue, you know.”

  “Time is an issue—his time. He’s very busy. That’s why I plan to return home a day after tomorrow, to be with him and the kids. My friend and partner Diana will report back to me on developments and oversee the surveillance of the house.”

  The car continued to the guesthouse entrance. Sally turned to leave, but Marin grasped her wrist, holding her back. She looked at him, embarrassed. He was silent for a long moment, then swallowed hard and said, “Thank you. Thank you for doing this and for who you are. You’ve saved my life.”

  Sally smiled. “Maybe this proves that no act of kindness goes unrewarded. You saved my life many years ago in London, and now I’m paying you back.”

  28.

  The large rooms were empty. Sally went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. On the shelf she only found a jar of instant coffee. She could, of course, phone Natalia, the housekeeper, and ask for a cup of strong, black coffee, but she felt it would be too much bother.

  She opened cabinet after cabinet. They were all packed with food, but there was not one package of black coffee. In the gap between two cabinets, her eye caught a glimmer. She moved to the left and investigated the gap from the side. There could be no doubt. It was a tiny camera lens.

  She overcame the urge to touch it, took a pack of chocolate from one of the shelves, and continued to walk nonchalantly along the row of cabinets. Her face was calm, but her eyes were searching for another glimmer. Her half hour search revealed three more lenses, which, along with the first, covered the entire kitchen.

  From the kitchen she moved to the bedroom, where she found another lens, hidden in the bed’s backboard within a fold in the upholstery. Here, again, she made sure not to give the slightest indication that she had found it. But inside she was fuming. Whoever watched the footage captured by the lenses—and watching her now—probably watched her and Jerry make love, eavesdropping on their conversations. She wondered whether the cameras were installed to follow them, or whether they had always been there to satisfy Marin’s need for control and information.

  The telephone in her pocket rang. “We’ve just landed,” Diana reported. “Where do I find your driver?”

  Sally marched quickly toward the front door and left the house.

  “Hello?” Diana asked. “Sally, are you there?”

  Only once she was deep in the garden did Sally answer. “Wait, don’t look for the driver. There’s a change of plan. Don’t come here. Find a good hotel and book a room. I’ll come talk to you.”

  “You promised me a fancy guesthouse,” Diana complained, partly in jest and partly seriously.

  “Go to a hotel called d’Angleterre. It’s just as fancy. I’ll explain everything later.”

  The sun started setting and the trees in the garden cast long shadows on the grass. Sally returned to her room, making sure not to switch on the lights, and took her handbag from the dresser. She left the house and walked to the backyard, where she opened a small door in the wall to a huge grassy field. She walked across it, feeling the moisture penetrate her shoes. When she arrived at the road, she turned down toward the valley. She could see the lights in the small village in the distance, and she walked there for two hours, thankful for her daily exercise sessions that kept her aerobic abilities up to shape. Who could be behind the installment of the cameras? she wondered. Marin owned the property and could make changes to it, no questions asked. But Ben David, or any other hostile element, could have also installed the equipment during the many days when the guesthouse was empty, and Marin’s house was abandoned for journeys around the world.

  A beer advertisement flashed over a café. Sally pushed the swinging wooden door in and entered. All the patrons went silent as they looked at the stranger. She went up to the counter, which a fat man was wiping with a moist rag. “I need a taxi,” Sally said in English.

  The man shrugged. “Not English,” he said and turned to speak to the clients in charmless, local French. A woman with a wide farmer’s face rose from her chair at the corner. “Yes, please?”

  “I need a taxi,” she repeated. “I need to get to Geneva.”

  “There are no taxis here, but in another—” she looked at her watch “—in another three minutes a bus will arrive. It reaches the train station in Gstaad. There you can catch a train to Geneva.” She looked at her watch again. “The last one leaves at six fifty-three. You’ll make it.” She held Sally’s arm and escorted her to the door. “The bus will stop here, at the entrance to the café.”

  The bus arrived from around the corner with typical Swiss precision. Sally got on and sat on a hard, wooden bench. The bumpy ride of the vehicle on the country roads made her feel unusually sad not to have more body padding. She arrived at Gstaad twenty minutes before the train’s departure and had time to buy herself a bottle of mineral water and a snack. At the Geneva train station, she got in a cab and asked the driver to stop at a distance from the Hotel d’Angleterre. An evening breeze was blowing, cool but pleasant. Sally found a small public garden, sat on a bench, and dialed the series of numbers she had written on a note.

  Diana arrived immediately and fell into her arms. “What’s this secrecy? What’s going on?”

  “I want to keep this compartmentalized,” said Sally. “It’s better that they don’t know you at Marin’s house, in case someone there is cooperating with Ben David.”

  “
Did something happen? Do you suspect someone?”

  Sally attempted to quickly recall everyone she knew at the mansion. Natalia, Jacques the driver, Rubi and Joel’s nanny, Darmond, and even Marin himself. She decided to keep the information to herself until things clear up. “I don’t know yet. In any case, we need to consider the possibility that we’re being followed and prepare ourselves appropriately. Please buy a Swiss sim card and don’t connect it to the Internet, where it can be hacked and listened to.” Sally pulled an envelope out of her handbag. “Here is ten thousand dollars. Half is a forward on your salary and the rest is for expenses. Take receipts on your first name.”

  “And where will you be?”

  “Tonight, I’ll still sleep at Marin’s guesthouse. Tomorrow I intend to fly home. Roy’s on leave from the army and I won’t miss the opportunity to spend a week with him. You’ll fill in for me here. Muriel is at the house I rented for her in Gstaad, and I want to know everything that happens there: Where she goes and when, when she returns, does she take the children with her, who comes to visit her, and how long they stay. Tomorrow morning, I’ll introduce you to the team of private investigators I hired. They will set up a tent on the hill across from the house and pretend to be skiers. Their mission is to track Muriel using special equipment that includes night vision.”

  “Why is this needed?”

  “Firstly, in order to assure that she doesn’t sink back into another bout of alcoholism, that she doesn’t break the children’s visitation agreement with their father, that she doesn’t smuggle the children across the border—in short, that she doesn’t go wild. Secondly, to identify any move from Ben David as soon as it takes place. I don’t believe one word of his, and I know he’ll try to trick me. As far as he’s concerned, Muriel is the key to Marin’s pocket and I’m sure that his releasing control of her is only temporary, until he comes here to prepare Joel for his bar mitzvah.” Sally again rummaged through her bag and produced a few pages covered with dense handwriting. “These are all the telephone numbers and details you need to know: Names of investigators, their tasks, the location of their surveillance posts. I’ve written it out rather than save it on my computer in case someone manages to hack it. Tomorrow, we’ll take the time before my flight to rent a car and tour all the locations you need to know.”