Married to the Mossad

by Hessel, Shalva

  Behind her stood a slight man with dark skin. The lawyer handed him the warrant, which he grabbed with disdain. Then he stepped forward, stared at Jacob, and stopped in front of Sally. “Hello, Mrs. Amir,” he said, extending his hand. “We don’t know each other personally, but we’ve been in touch indirectly.”

  Sally did not take his hand. “Indirectly, yes.”

  “Why are you pursuing us? What in God’s name have we done?”

  “Don’t mention God’s name in the same place you desecrated by sleeping with the mother of a child you’re preparing for his bar mitzvah. Have you no shame?”

  The expression of insult on Ben David’s face was real, and had she not watched the footage produced by the surveillance cameras, she could believe he was actually offended. “Mrs. Amir, we will sue you for all the damages you caused us, and we won’t forget this terrible insult you voiced here in front of all these people.” He looked at Jacob, seeking masculine assurance.

  Jacob spoke into a microphone hidden in his jacket lapel. “Everyone to the entrance.” Ben David scanned the investigators gathering at the bottom of the staircase, turned his face to Muriel, and said in English, “Don’t worry, Madam Muriel, I will return and we’ll continue our conversation.”

  “You won’t return,” Sally said, also in English, “because Mr. Marin is going to appoint a different teacher for his son. A more moral one. Read the warrant in your spare time. It forbids you to be in contact with any member of the Marin family.”

  “There’s an agreement that you yourself drafted with Attorney Ovadia, designating me to prepare the son for his bar mitzvah.”

  “You know very well you breached the agreement. Instead of preparing the son, you slept with his mother.”

  “You’ll have to prove that in court!”

  “Don’t make me do it,” Sally said.

  Ben David scoffed at her and left the room. Muriel’s body began to shake. She got down on her knees and began shouting incoherent sentences. “Don’t touch her,” Jacob ordered. “Stay away. Sally, see if you can calm her but without touching, otherwise we’ll be accused of assault.”

  Sally came over to her, and disobeying Jacob’s orders, stretched out her hand. “Come on, get up,” she said.

  Muriel didn’t take her hand. She continued to shake, but her shouting stopped. She howled mournfully, mumbling, “How can I live without seeing him again?”

  Jacob and his men left the house. Sally asked the cook for a glass of water, which she handed to Muriel. “I have something better,” the cook said. She disappeared for a moment, returning with a bottle of Jack Daniels. Muriel grabbed it from her hand and drank from it eagerly. “That’s better, isn’t it Mrs. Muriel?” the cook asked, and Muriel answered with a long burp.

  During the drive back to Geneva, Muriel’s phone rang. “Madame Amir,” Marin’s secretary announced, “I’m sorry to inform you that tonight’s flight to Tel Aviv was canceled. The flight inspectors are on strike. Tomorrow afternoon, flights will resume, and a first-class ticket will await you for the 1:50 flight with Swiss.”

  Sally hung up and rushed to call Jerry. He didn’t answer. She redialed him again and again throughout the journey, but to no avail. She continued trying during her meeting with Diana at Café Central, where she paid her the rest of her salary. “Maybe he’s in a meeting,” Diana suggested. “Send him a text message.”

  “Later,” said Sally. “First the money.” She wrote the check and signed it. “The hotel room is paid for until the weekend, and you also have a first-class ticket back to Israel,” she said, handing her an envelope.

  “Thanks, but I’m leaving for Paris from here.”

  “A trip?”

  “Work. I’ve been offered a job as head of security for a financial company. I’ve always loved Paris, and I’m certainly ready for a change.”

  “And what about your family?” Sally asked hesitantly.

  “I’m sure you ask yourself the same question,” Diana replied. “We’ll talk about it sometime. Now it’s all too painful.” She stood up. “I need to pack.”

  Sally stood up as well and hugged her. “Be strong,” she said

  “You too. We both need strength right now.”

  Sally followed Diana until she walked out to the street, then tapped a text message: “My flight is delayed, I’ll arrive tomorrow.”

  “Fine,” the answer arrived.

  41.

  Waiting was always destabilizing for Sally. Her need for order, stability, and control made every uncoordinated change in plan a source of self-doubt, which translated into anger.

  She stood in the glassed-in balcony, staring at the Alpine view, and drank her third glass of wine. “Monsieur Marin asks if you’d like to join him for dinner out,” Natalia asked behind her. “He would like to order a table at Café de la Paix in Geneva. He says they have French, Italian, and Mediterranean dishes, so you have a large variety.”

  “I…” Sally hesitated. Dining out could pass the frustrating evening more quickly, but spending time with Marin was dangerous in her current state of mind. “I’d rather eat here.”

  Natalia’s eyes rested on her with amazement. What woman would refuse Pierre Marin’s invitation? “I think he’ll be very disappointed.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sally said.

  To her surprise, Natalia added, “He invited a few other people he’d like to introduce to you.” Sally’s curiosity arose. Why not? When this whole affair ended she’d certainly want to keep active, and she might as well meet people of different professions. A deeper voice whispered to her that perhaps her relationship with Jerry was crawling to its finish, and she should establish a solid financial base rather than remain dependent on his income, like Muriel was dependent on Marin. “Fine,” she said.

  “Dinner is at eight,” Natalia said, adding a smile to confirm that Sally had made the right choice. “Will you be ready at five? Fred, the new driver, will pick you up and take you to Geneva.”

  Sally spent the next hours trying not to sulk. She spoke to Jacob, who told her he’d placed two of his investigators in a parked car across from Muriel’s house, to keep Ben David away. An hour later, he informed her that a taxi had picked Muriel up and taken her to town. An investigator who followed her reported that she met with Ben David at the office of a local lawyer. “Expect legal action,” Jacob said, stating the obvious.

  Sally rang Marin’s personal mobile. He didn’t answer. She sent him a text message reporting the developments, then took a shower and dressed. She still only had the single dress she packed in Israel three days earlier, and she knew that at dinner she’d feel like Cinderella at the ball.

  At eight sharp, Fred pulled up at Café de la Paix in Geneva. Marin greeted her in the foyer and walked her to a couch nearby. Only as she sat down did she realize her hand was resting naturally in his. She knew she must pull it out, but his touch was so gentle yet fierce that she could not do so. “I want you to meet a few people,” he said. “They’re all my lawyers. You know one of them, Robert Darmond, and the others are among the leading lawyers in Europe and maybe in the world. We will discuss Ben David and his influence on my business.”

  “I tried to inform you. Ben David and Muriel were at a lawyer’s in—”

  “I know. The lawyer refused to represent him and informed me. No serious lawyer in Geneva or the rest of Switzerland will stand up to me. I assume eventually he’ll find someone who wants the publicity or needs the money, but he’ll be second class and my lawyers will crush him.” He let go of her hand and looked at her warmly. “I want you to be involved in everything, Sally. In fact, I wanted to offer you the position of my personal assistant. I know you won’t leave Israel, but these days almost anything can be done online or over the phone, and the distance between Tel Aviv and Geneva is relatively small.”

  Sally struggled to subdue the mounting excitemen
t inside her. Her rational and cautious side prompted her to respond. “Let’s first see how we end the Ben David problem.”

  “There is no Ben David problem. Even if he turns to the court he’ll get nothing, and Muriel certainly won’t either. Swiss law takes breach of trust by a teacher very seriously, as it does a woman cheating on her husband.” Marin stood up, and taking Sally by the hand, led her to a surprisingly simple dining hall. Wooden tables with metal legs were covered with checkered tablecloths and simple white plates lay resting before straight back chairs. He noticed her surprise and said, “Here they invest in the food, not the decoration.”

  Four men awaited them at a corner table. Darmond greeted her with icy politeness. The others shook her hand. “Gentlemen,” said Marin, “I’m pleased to introduce you to Madame Sally Amir, who has been working with me for a while. Thanks to her, a conspiracy to trick me out of money was exposed. Some money has already been taken, and you’ll help me get it back. My wife Muriel was involved in this, and you’ll take care of her as well. As you know, I’ve experienced many disappointments and treacheries throughout my professional life, but the combined treachery of a wife and a spiritual guide is worse than any other. However—” he raised his glass “—I am not even slightly sad, because instead of those two traitors who have no more room in my life, I met a wonderful woman who protected me tirelessly for no reward, a true friend.”

  The others also raised their glasses, though with less enthusiasm. During the meal, Sally’s phone buzzed in her purse. Roy’s name appeared on the screen. “Excuse me,” she told the men, “it’s my son. He’s in the army.”

  She left, hearing Marin explain to his guests about the mandatory Israeli military service. “Mom,” Roy said, as she sat on the couch next to the cloakroom. “What’s going on between you and Dad?”

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  “He doesn’t want to talk. I came home and saw you were gone. Michael said you’d had a fight and you flew abroad. This has never happened before.”

  “Well, it’s happening now.”

  “This is connected to that man, Pierre Marin, right?”

  “Only indirectly.”

  “Michael told me that one day you wanted to pick him up from school in a complete panic. He thinks the fire in Dad’s car and your accident also have something to do with this. Why do you insist on putting us at risk?”

  “All of this is between your father and I,” Sally insisted. “Michael and you are not connected.”

  “It’s not just between Dad and you. Michael can’t sleep at night for fear. Dad is nervous and silent. So I agree with you that the business with Marin is important, and like you I think any Jew in need should be protected, certainly one that helped you so much starting out, but not at the price of ruining our family. Do you understand?”

  “I do. Family is very important for me too, but it’s not about that, but rather about succumbing to fear. When external pressure is exerted, like the one we’re experiencing now, family members should support one another, not demand surrender.”

  “It’s no pressure,” Roy said nervously, “it’s a threat. Your car was rammed, Dad’s car was burned, we receive telephone threats. What are you waiting for, Michael to be kidnapped?”

  “It’s not like you to fold like this. Dad’s guarding Michael, the cars aren’t important, and phone threats are only words. However, what I’m doing here is extremely important and I must finish what I started.”

  “When will you finish?”

  Sally looked at the men around the table through the open door, considering the next stages. A long legal battle with Muriel and Ben David, and perhaps other issues Marin would like her to address as his personal assistant. “It will take time,” she said, “and as I explained to Dad, there is no turning back. Ben David and his men will not easily give up on Marin’s money; they’ll try again and again.”

  “They can be paid off.”

  “And who says they won’t ask for more once they get their money? Listen, Roy, the train has already left the station and we have no choice but to wait until the end of the journey, when all the crooks are in jail.”

  On Roy’s side of the line Sally could hear approaching male voices, and his speech grew terse. “Mom, I need to go. We’ll continue this conversation when you arrive.”

  “Kisses, my son,” Sally said, but the phone was already silent.

  Two hours later, on the way to the mansion in Gstaad, Sally was deep in thought in the back seat of the long Bentley. Marin too was silent, respecting her need for privacy. As the car climbed toward his house, Sally was overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness, mixed with dread. She shuddered. Marin opened the minibar and pulled out one of his fine bottles of cognac. “I believe this will help you,” he said, pouring her a glass.

  She gulped it down in one go, feeling the soothing warmth spread through her.

  “Is there trouble with your son in the army?” he inquired.

  “No,” she answered.

  At two a.m., they entered the large garden. Marin said, “I don’t want to leave in this state. Would you like to have another drink with me?”

  The thought of the loneliness she would experience at the guesthouse prevailed. “Yes, thank you,” she said.

  Natalia greeted them at the entrance. Marin signaled to the living room and walked into the glassed balcony. A cold bottle of wine and a glass were already waiting on the table. Natalia rushed over with another glass. Sally sat down on one of the couches, distancing herself as much as possible from the sofa she sat on with Jerry. Marin sat on the next couch. “I don’t want you to fight with Jerry over me,” he said.

  She looked at him with astonishment.

  “I already told you I realize what’s going on between you. If I were Jerry, I wouldn’t agree that my beautiful and smart wife spends time at another man’s house, even if it is just the guest quarters.”

  “That’s not the problem,” said Sally, “there’s no romantic jealousy here.” Actually, the thought suddenly hit her, there is no romance left between us. When was the last time that Jerry hugged her? Kissed her? Walked with her in places they used to love, like the alleys of Jerusalem’s Old City? “Jerry is terrified of what Ben David and the organization manipulating him could do to our children and to his reputation. He may also be concerned for me, I don’t know. He’s a good man, but so rigid…”

  Marin leaned forward and asked her softly, “May I kiss you?”

  Sally was silent with astonishment.

  “You’re a very pretty woman, Sally, very attractive, and I think you like me too. One of us has to make the first move.”

  Sally felt the urge to cling to the firm hand he was holding out to her. “You seem very tired to me,” she said, desperately attempting to postpone the moment of truth.

  “I’m not tired at all, nor am I insane.” He stood up in front of her. “I’m not going to push you. I know what I’m proposing might complicate things, but if we consider tonight as a one-time thing, as a bit of well-deserved comfort.”

  Sally stood up into his arms.

  42.

  It was the saddest flight she had ever experienced. First class was almost empty, adding to the feeling of distress caused by the memory of the night she had spent with Pierre. Her emotions were as strong as they were contradictory: Pierre was a lover of a kind she had never met—smart and sensual, submissive yet dominant. But despite the heights she had reached with him, she felt the depths of the abyss that widened within her, a chasm of guilt and yearning for Jerry.

  When she arrived home, it was six in the evening. A new car stood in Jerry’s old parking space. Her dented car stood next to it. Sally looked at her mobile, debating whether to call home. Finally, she put it back in her bag and entered the building. She somehow hoped to catch Jerry with another woman, expunging her own sin. At the same time, she knew that
was impossible. Jerry was the embodiment of loyalty, and would never betray her with an impulsive act.

  She said a brief hello to the doorman and in the elevator, switched her weight from leg to leg impatiently. When she reached her apartment, she gently turned the key and stealthily entered her home. She saw Michael’s back in the dining room. Jerry was sitting opposite him. Their plates held cardboard boxes from a well-known meat restaurant. Her gaze caught Jerry’s, who didn’t say a word.

  “Hello,” Sally said.

  Michael jumped out of his chair, turned around, and ran toward her. She hugged him tightly, as Jerry continued chewing his meal.

  “Mom, how long have you come for? Will you stay with us now?” Michael asked.

  Sally remembered Rubi’s question, the first time she met him, whether she would bring his mother back. Sure, Michael was older and the circumstances of her absence were different from Muriel’s, but the fearful tone in the question of both children was the same. She kissed him on the head, to calm him. “I don’t know yet. I hope to work from home and be with you a lot.”

  “They called from your previous workplace, the insurance company,” Jerry said gravely. “Your leave of absence is about to end, and they wanted to know if you plan to return.”

  “I’ll speak to them tomorrow,” Sally replied, struggling to maintain her light tone. “What’s happening here? What’s new?”

  “Dad is already letting me leave the house alone,” Michael chuckled.

  “Great.”

  Jerry responded with a nod of the head. “Would you like to eat?” he asked, polite as always.

  “I’m not hungry,” she said, sitting in between them.

  “Michael needs to finish his roots project,” Jerry announced with the tone of an order. “The submission date is approaching.”