by Adam Palmer
It had taken twenty years after the liberation of eastern Jerusalem – and much bureaucratic wrangling and horse-trading – for this formerly run-down area to be torn down and completely rebuilt from the ground up. It was now a bustling mixed residential-commercial complex of apartments, hotels and shops with facades of light-coloured Jerusalem stone.
After checking in and ordering a light snack from room service, Morgan phoned Shalom Tikva.
“I’m here.”
“Where?”
“The Hotel. David’s Citadel.”
“You were supposed to phone me from the airport.”
“I forgot.”
“Have you got it?”
“Of course.”
“Well bring it round!”
The line went dead. That was HaTzadik,” Morgan thought, always brisk, brusque and to the point. He hadn’t served in the Israeli army for politico-religious reasons. But in some way he would have made a great soldier.
An hour later, after an energy-reviving snack and a shower, Sam Morgan was walking through the streets of Mea She’arim. The name Mea She’arim means “a hundred gates” and the neighbourhood – located in West Jerusalem but close to the Old City – was an old neighbourhood of narrow streets and linked houses with weathered facades of Jerusalem stone and first floor balconies supported by protruding rusted iron I-beams. At ground level, many of the windows were protected by white-painted wrought iron bars somewhat more ornate than the fencing on the balconies, that was in many cases chipped and peeled, revealing the rusted iron beneath.
Many of the outside walls were adorned with posters in Hebrew – plain black on white – announcing deaths, marriages and rabbinical proclamations. Morgan knew this only from what he had been told: he didn’t understand the Hebrew. But he did understand the one or two posters in English that warned – in dire tones and language – not to dress immodestly. These were specifically addressed to women and phrased in mildly threatening language to make clear to any woman who might show too much leg or arm that the same flesh that would arouse lust in normal red-blooded men would only arouse anger in this pious community.
Mea She’arim was the home to a number of ultra-orthodox – “haredi” – sects. Many of these were Hassidic and were openly against the very existence of the State of Israel, notably Satmar, Breslov, Shomer Emunim and the extremist Mishkenot Ha’ro’im. But the most fanatical of all in its hostility to the Jewish state was not a Hassadic sect but a religious order of Lithuanian Jewish origin called Shomrei Ha’ir – the Guardians of the City.
It was the leader of this sect, Shalom Tikva – AKA HaTzadik (literally “the righteous one”) whom Sam Morgan was on his way to see.
It took several wrong-turns and requests for directions before Morgan arrived at the correct address. He had to knock on the door, because it had no bell, and when he was ushered in by the aging white-haired, white-bearded owner, he looked around to see a house that had no radio and no television. These were considered instruments of sin, or at least temptation, by the ultra-orthodox.
“Did you bring it?” asked HaTzadik, as he led Morgan into the carpeted living room. This was a stupid question, Morgan thought. But it was wholly consistent with Shalom Tikva’s well-known impatience. In any case, living room was a bit of a misnomer. For the room was essentially a library, except for one small dining table at one end, near the kitchen. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with richly-bound books. Morgan suspected that many of these were volumes of that monumental treatise: the Babylonian Talmud.
He suspected, however, that there must be other books as well. But they were clearly all religious books. HaTzadik had told him once about other Jewish religious works such as the six books of the Mishne, the Arba’ah Turim, the Shulhan Aruch and the Zohar, a 1700 page Jewish mystical treatise from which the Kabbala is derived.
The impatient look on Shalom Tikva’s face snapped Morgan out of his state of awe. He unzipped the carry-on bag and handed over the cardboard tube containing the parchment scroll to the bearded man. For a minute Shalom Tikva’s eyes gleamed, but then calm returned, as if he felt that he dare not celebrate until he was sure.
He took the tube over to a large table in one corner of the room, switched on the desk lamp and prized the cap off the tube. Then he carefully extracted the parchment and opened slowly, almost with reverence, on the desk. There was a corner missing, the edges frayed around it, as if some one had torn it off roughly. But he ignored this. Instead, he studied the manuscript carefully, peering long and hard at the script, struggling to make out what it said. When he finally did, his face hardened into a scowl.
Chapter 14
“And then I collapsed on the ground and that’s the last thing I remember till I woke up here..”
In the stark, whitewashed interview room, Daniel was explaining to the police what had happened, starting from when he got the SMS while in California. He had been formally arrested at the hospital on suspicion of arson and murder, discharged from the hospital, brought here to Stevenage police station, allowed time to rest and was now being interviewed under caution. He had waived the right to a lawyer but in all honesty couldn’t understand why all this was happening. It was obvious that he had been lured into a trap by Martin Costa – if indeed it was Costa. But the looks on the faces of the interrogating officers were sceptical.
“And how do you explain Martin Costa’s body in the wreckage?”
This was the plainclothes officer. He had identified himself at the hospital as Chief Inspector Vincent.
“I told you: I noticed a body there just before the place went up in flames.”
“So he sends you a text telling you to come there and twenty minutes later, when you arrive, you find him dead?”
“I didn’t know he was dead. I mean I didn’t even know if it was him.”
“You’d forgotten what he looked like?”
“I only saw his feet protruding.”
“Then how did you know he was dead?”
This was Sergeant Connor, the uniformed man form the hospital.
“I didn’t. Like I told you, I was just going to check when the fire was started and building went up in flames.”
“Yet you knew it was a body?”
Daniel squirmed slightly, realizing that he had been perhaps a little imprudent in his choice of language.
“Well the feet were unmoving.”
“He could have been unconscious.”
“He may well have been. But if you want to quibble then I could point out that a body doesn’t necessarily mean a dead body.”
Connor looked over at Vincent. The chief inspector nodded, almost imperceptibly. Sergeant Connor continued.
“Well as a matter of fact, he was dead. The post mortem confirmed that Costa didn’t die of burns or smoke inhalation. He was bludgeoned to death by multiple blows to the head. The collapse of the roof would not have accounted for the injuries all around his cranium. But let me be clear about this Mr Klein, are you saying that you did not know that Costa was dead?”
“Well, in the circumstances – I mean with the legs sticking out and not moving – I think I probably considered the possibility that it was a dead body. But I didn’t really have any time to act on it before the place went up in flames.”
“Oh yes and you blacked out, recovered and managed to stagger out just in time before the remnants of the ceiling collapsed.”
“That’s right,” said Daniel, irritated by the aggressive approach. “Look could I ask why I even been arrested? Everything I’ve told you can be checked out and – ”
“Most of it,” Connor interrupted. “Not all of it.”
“Well the text messages can be. And the fact that I only flew in a few hours before the events.”
“That doesn’t put you in the clear.”
Daniel had already twigged that Connor was playing the bad cop.
“And why would I kill him?”
“Well let’s see now,” said the sergeant, as
if thinking about this for the first time. “Martin Costa invites you to share some major new archaeological discovery with you. You race back from the United States, smelling the chance to make a name for yourself by getting cut in on a piece of the action, then Martin Costa does a one-eighty and leaves you in the lurch and so in a fit of rage you kill him. Then – desperate to cover up your crime – you set the place on fire.”
Daniel wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, the ridiculous accusation itself or the fact that Sergeant Connor was trying to sound like an American tough guy. Even his use of “one-eighty” instead of “U-turn” made his aspirations clear. For a minute Daniel flirted with the puerile temptation to address the sergeant as “Inspector Callahan.” But he realized that flippancy wouldn’t help his position and aside from that, there was a more important point to raise.
“Before the place went up in flames, I noticed a smell. And I believe it was the smell of petrol.”
A smirk crept onto Connor’s face.
“It’s remarkable how much your memory seems to be recovering.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
By now Daniel was beginning to get irritated by the sarcasm.
“The fire started at only a single point in the building, but the investigators did find traces of an accelerant.”
“Judging by the smell that I remember, I’d be surprised if it was only ‘traces’.”
“And what’s your point?”
Daniel spoke very quietly, to emphasize his point, forcing both Connor and Vincent to strain to hear him.
“That whoever set the place on fire did so using petrol as an accelerant. I don’t mean they used a Molotov cocktail, I think the place had already been doused with petrol. That’s why it spread so quickly. But I think you already know that.”
“We do already know that Mr Klein.”
Now Daniel leaned forward confidently.
“Then you’ll also know that I drove straight from the airport to Ashwell, had lunch at the pub and then went to meet Costa. So when and where would I have got the petrol to start the fire?”
The chief inspector nodded approvingly. But Connor didn’t see this. He leaned forward across the table and almost pressed his face against Daniel’s.
“From your car? It isn’t a diesel.”
“No but it wasn’t outside the burnt-out house either. It was back at the pub. There was no way to drive to the house anyway because the path was a footpath. The final stretch would have had to be on foot. And because I was unsure of the way and where to park, I left it at the Three Tuns and walked from there. So if your theory is correct and I killed him in a fit of rage and then set the fire to cover my tracks, that would mean I would have had to go back to the pub or rather the Post Office, siphon off some petrol, without arousing any suspicion, take it back to the house and then start the fire – and all that in broad daylight, without being noticed.”
Daniel would not have been in the least surprised if Sergeant Connor had turned a bright shade of red at this juncture. But that did not happen. Instead, the sergeant merely frowned and turned round to receive yet another approving nod from his otherwise silent superior. And again the smile returned to Connor’s intensely smug face.
“Well it so happens that some one did see you siphoning off petrol from your car.”
Chapter 15
Haredi Jews did not ordinarily watch television. Indeed by and large they didn’t even own television sets. But Baruch Tikva was not one to be straight-jacketed by tradition. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing in Halacha – Jewish law – that prohibited ownership of television sets as such. The reason that ultra-orthodox Jews avoided owning and watching them was because of the content. They might see something that would corrupt them or tempt them with lewd thoughts – such as an excessive displays of female flesh. The same was true of the internet.
But Baruch Tikva knew that they lived in the modern world and that the internet was a powerful device for outreach. Whilst Shomrei Ha’ir did not believe in proselytizing among the Gentiles, they did believe in forming political alliances with anti-Zionist groups and conducting anti-Israel propaganda whenever they could.
So Baruch Tikva had a Samsung Galaxy with internet connectivity to enable him to stay in touch with the outside world, to find out what was going on and to communicate with useful allies abroad. He also used it to watch Sky News and keep abreast of current affairs as they affected the cause that he believed in.
And it was while he was watching Sky news, that he saw the report about the man who had been arrested in England connection with the fire at the house in Ashwell. Baruch Tikva’s father had told him very little about what was going on and the name Sam Morgan was not mentioned in the report. But two names were mentioned. One was Martin Costa and the other was Daniel Klein. The reason he recognized these names was two-fold. Firstly, Klein had been in the news last year as a result of his adventures in Egypt and Jordan that had nearly led to a diplomatic incident. Klein had even been hailed as the “saviour of Israel” after it was revealed that he had helped prevent the release in Israel of some deadly virus, the details of which had never been fully explained.
But that of course was Zionist Israel, not the true Israel. That was the treacherous Israel that had betrayed the teachings of the Rabbis.
There was however another reason that the name stuck in Baruch Tikva’s mind. That reason was because his father had told him that Sam Morgan was supposed to kill Daniel Klein. And when Baruch pressed his father on the subject, his father had confirmed that it was the same Daniel Klein as the one who had been in the news.
But watching the news now he was seeing a very interesting report about British police arresting a man over a fire at a house or barn in an English village. According to the report, a man called Martin Costa had been killed in the fire and the man whom the police were questioning was Daniel Klein – the same Daniel Klein who had been in the news last year over the Egyptian affair.
But that made no sense!
Sam Morgan was supposed to kill Daniel Klein and Sam Morgan was now in Israel, having just brought something to Baruch Tikva’s father. Did that mean that Sam Morgan had left England without killing Daniel Klein? And if so then how would be able to do so now? If Klein was in police custody, then how would it be possible for Morgan to kill him?
And why had Klein been arrested? Who was this Martin Costa that he was supposed to have killed? Baruch Tikva vaguely remembering the name Martin Costa also cropping up in conversation with his father.
But what was going on?
Baruch wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing: he had to tell his father.
Chapter 16
Sergeant Connor’s words were ringing in Daniel’s ears.
“It so happens that some one did see you siphoning petrol off your car.”
Now it was Daniel’s face that glowed bright red.
“Who?”
This time, for some reason, Detective Chief Inspector Vincent decided to speak.
“We had an anonymous tip-off while you were in the hospital. A man phoned in saying he’d seen a man siphoning off petrol from a car outside Post Office near the Three Tuns. He even said it was an Audi A4.”
By now Daniel – who had been so calm until now – was frantic with fear.
“But don’t you see… that’s a lie! It must have been the person who started the fire! He’s creating a smokescreen.”
Daniel realized too late that the words sounded like a rather tasteless pun.
“No doubt that’s what your lawyer will argue. But the fact is, you were there. You just got out in time. By your own admission you were not particularly well-disposed to Martin Costa to begin with. And you were seen siphoning off petrol.”
“By an anonymous witness.”
“Whether we can use it in court will be up to the judge. In the meantime, I’m not satisfied that you’ve given us all the answers you can give.”
“All right then,” repli
ed Daniel combatively. “But perhaps you’ll give me an answer. How did this… anonymous witness identify me? Does he claim to know it was me that he saw – as opposed to just ‘a man’?”
“They showed your picture on the news… the famous ancient language expert from that big case in Egypt. He phoned Crimestoppers after that and told them. He recognized you from the picture on the news.”
“Crimestoppers?”
Crime stoppers was a charity that worked with the police to pass on information that was given to them anonymously by members of the public. They did not trace incoming calls or even record them. That meant there was no possibility of identifying the man who had called in and claimed to have seen Daniel siphoning off petrol from the hired Audi A4.
But one thing Daniel knew for sure: whoever it was who had made that call, had murdered Martin Costa.
And he also tried, thought Daniel, to murder me.
Chapter 17
“ ‘And I will set aside for thee two hundred silver zuz mohar due thee for thy maidenhood…’”
“Two hundred what?” asked Morgan.
HaTzadik was translating from the parchment scroll that Sam Morgan had brought him, while Morgan held it open and looked on eagerly.
“It’s a unit of currency,” HaTzadik explained. “The zuz was a Tyrean coin… used in Biblical times.”
“Does that mean this is a document from Biblical times?”
“Not necessarily. But they refer to a Biblical coin because for this type of document they wanted to emphasize that it was a Biblical obligation.”
“What do you mean?”
“After the Bible and the oral law, the great sages created two documents of scholarship and commentary about it, called the Gemara. The Gemara, together with the written law or Mishneh Torah is called the Talmud. But there were two Talmuds: the Jerusalem Talmud and Babylonian Talmud. The Babylonian was seven times the size of the Jerusalem and much more coherent. But on the subject of the bride price, there is an ongoing dispute between the two Talmuds about whether this was a Biblical obligation or one decided by the rabbis at the time of the Sanhedrin. However, they all agreed that the protection of the rights of the wife was vitally important to the Jewish people. So it was decided to use this language in the marriage document – referring to a Biblical coin – so as to clearly imply that it was a Biblical obligation.”
