The Jerusalem Assassin

by Avraham Azrieli

  “ Exactly.” Lemmy thought about the Mauser, which he’d left in Zurich, the writing engraved along the barrel. “Koenig was an Oberstgruppenfuhrer in the SS, right?”

  “ Correct.”

  “ That was the second-highest rank in the SS.”

  She hesitated. “He was an accountant by training, a genius really, when it came to budget allocations, financial administration, things like that.”

  “Things like calculating how many humans could fit in a cattle-train car? Budgeting for bulk-purchased Zyklon-B gas canisters? Valuating human hair as an industrial commodity?”

  There was a long silence. “I didn’t know about these things. I adored him.”

  “And he adored you back.” An idea occurred to Lemmy. He sat on the hotel bed, pressing the receiver to his ear. “Enough to entrust the ledger to you.”

  “Klaus knew that my heart belonged to him.” Then, as if an explanation was required, she added, “I was very young, barely fourteen, when he took me in.”

  “A fourteen-year-old girl.” Lemmy paused. “Your birthday falls on New Year’s, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t celebrate it anymore, but yes, I was born on January first, nineteen twenty-eight.”

  “I remember celebrating with you on the first day of sixty-seven. You bought a kosher cake so I could eat it.”

  “ You were struggling to balance your faith with…what we had.”

  “ It’s odd how certain things get stuck in your mind forever.”

  “ Please come over. We have so much to discuss.”

  “ It’s not safe,” he said before temptation took over. “I’ll see you tomorrow at noon in front of Metz amp; Co. There’s a green phone booth across the street. Wait for me there.” He was about to hang up, but the question just popped to his lips. “What’s Bira doing these days?”

  “My troublemaking daughter?” Tanya’s voice softened. “She’s an archeology professor at Hebrew University, digging up sacred grounds, pissing off the ultra-Orthodox, including Rabbi Abraham Gerster, unfortunately.”

  “ A small world. Is she married? Has kids?”

  “Yes. Her oldest is in the army already. Yuval. A wonderful boy, so smart and kind and idealistic. Just like Lemmy was…I mean…just like you were…back then.”

  “ And now.”

  “ But all these years.” Her voice cracked. “If you only knew…how much grief.”

  “ I’m sorry,” he said. “Good night, Tanya.”

  *

  Benjamin was waiting when Rabbi Gerster and Itah Orr returned to Meah Shearim. He had brewed fresh tea and set up cups on the dining table. “The chaplain from Hadassah Hospital brought a note for you.” He held it so they could read it together.

  Abraham, I’m in the ICU at Hadassah, 4 ^ th floor, last room on right. Come ASAP. Long live Jerusalem! E.W.

  Itah asked, “Who is E.W.?”

  Rabbi Gerster sat down. He picked up the note and read it again, his hand trembling. “E.W. stands for Entirely Wicked.”

  “ Wicked?”

  “ He’s the devil himself.”

  “ God shall safeguard his sheep, ” Benjamin recited, “ from evil spirits and deadly debacles that frequent this earth. ” t› Amen,” Rabbi Gerster said. “Did the chaplain say anything else?”

  Benjamin offered Itah a jar of sugar cubes. “He said there were two young men guarding the patient, who appears weak, emaciated, and out of breath, yet in full command of his senses.”

  “ That’s an apt description.” Rabbi Gerster stood, gulping the rest of his tea. “Benjamin, kindly call a taxi for us.”

  “ At this hour?”

  “ Yes. Right now.”

  “ But it’s the middle of the night!”

  “ There’s not a moment to spare.”

  “ Then I’ll go with you. They know me well at Hadassah Hospital.” It was true. Every time a man, woman, or child from Neturay Karta was hospitalized, Rabbi Benjamin Mashash was praying at their bedside or helping feed them or comforting the distraught family members.

  “ I appreciate it,” Rabbi Gerster said, “but you must stay here with your sleeping wife and precious children. Itah will join me.”

  “ But-”

  “ Rest assured,” Rabbi Gerster smiled, “that nothing inappropriate will happen.”

  Benjamin blushed. “I didn’t mean to imply such a thing.”

  “ Hey,” Itah said, “why not?”

  *

  The taxi brought them to the military cemetery on Mount Herzl. Rabbi Gerster gave the driver a five hundred-shekel bill and asked him to wait. The guards were off-duty for the night. He used a flashlight to find a service shed and took two shovels.

  Itah followed him through rows of headstones. “I thought we were going to Hadassah.”

  “ The answer lies here,” he said. After so many years of weekly visits, he could find his way around the cemetery with his eyes closed.

  “ Where are we going?”

  “ To pay a final visit.” He pointed the beam at the headstone. “Here we are.”

  Private Jerusalem (“Lemmy”) Gerster

  Killed in Battle, June 7, 1967

  In the Defense of Israel

  God Will Avenge His Blood

  When he inserted the edge of the shovel under the corner, Itah gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “ You saw the note.” Rabbi Gerster used the long handle as a lever, lifting the stone.

  “ No!” She kneeled and held the stone down, preventing him from toppling it. “It was just a form of salute. Long live Jerusalem! Like a patriotic cheer or something.”

  “ The man who wrote the note knows where to stab his victims for best results. I will be in pain until I find out the truth with my own eyes.”

  “ E.W.?”

  “ Elie Weiss. He spends most of his time in Paris.”

  “ You think he’s the one giving money to Freckles?”

  “ I’m afraid so. And now he’s trying to lure me to the hospital to facilitate his escape.”

  “ By hinting that your son is alive?” Itah picked up the other shovel. “It’s so transparent. Cruel!”

  “ But irresistible, right?”

  “ Surely you don’t believe him, do you?”

  “ A bereaved father would grasp at any straw of hope.”

  “ But you know the truth, right? Your son is long dead. No one can bring him back to life.”

  “ If anyone can, it’s Elie Weiss.” Rabbi Gerster grunted as he lifted the headstone and rolled it over, exposing the dirt underneath. “That devil has a history of playing with life and death.” He pushed the shovel hard into the soil.

  “ You can’t actually believe this, can you?” But still, she joined him, and they dug until the top of the coffin was exposed. He got into the grave, stood wide so his shoes were off the coffin, and bent down to grab the cover.

  “ This is so wrong.” Itah aimed the flashlight into the hole. “God will punish us.”

  “ God is an illusion, remember?” Rabbi Gerster tried to pull up the side of the cover. “And so are ghosts, in case you’re worried about the neighbors.”

  The coffin creaked, and the beam of the flashlight trembled with Itah’s hand. “The body of your son is only bones now. How could you tell if it’s really him?”

  “ Can’t open it!” He straightened up, rubbing his hands. “Talmud forbids steel nails, only wooden nails are allowed in coffins. After all these years, it’s bonded together.”

  “ A chance to reconsider,” Itah said with a tremulous chuckle.

  He climbed out of the grave, turned, and jumped back in, landing hard on top of the coffin, which broke under his weight.

  “ Oh, shit!” Itah dropped the flashlight into the hole.

  “ Calm down. It’s only bones.” Rabbi Gerster pushed aside the shattered wood planks of the cover and reached in for the flashlight among the pieces of white cotton shroud. He shone the flashlight up and down the coffin interior, located the skull, a
nd pulled it out.

  The cranium emerged from the coffin with a length of the spine and a single shoulder, attached to an arm and a skeletal hand.

  “ Here,” he said, “hold it.”

  “ No, thanks. I’ll hold the flashlight.”

  “ At the time, they didn’t let me see the body.” Rabbi Gerster was breathing hard as he peeled strips of shroud from the skull. “They told me Lemmy had been hit point-blank by a grenade, that he was unrecognizable. I should have insisted.”

  The last piece of shroud came off the skull. He shook off the dust, and the bones rattled.

  “ Ouch!” Itah stepped back. “How can you mess with your son’s remains?”

  “ I don’t believe in life after death. I need to know if these bones belonged to Lemmy.”

  “ But how?”

  He turned the skull around. The grinning jaws, hollowed nose, and empty eye sockets faced them in eerie whiteness. “Point the light at the jaws.”

  Itah complied.

  “ Ah!” Rabbi Gerster probed the gaping mouth, toward the rear. “This guy has all his teeth!”

  “ So?”

  “ My Lemmy was missing this one.” He tapped a tooth with a fingernail, producing knocking sounds.

  “ How can you be so sure? It’s been decades!”

  “ I held his hand while the dentist pulled it-upper jaw, second molar from the back. Lemmy cracked it on an olive pit just before his Bar Mitzvah. You should have seen that boy. He didn’t make a sound while that two-left-handed dentist labored with his pliers.” Rabbi Gerster tossed the bones back into the grave. “This poor bastard is not my son.”

  “ What now?”

  “ Now?” He began to shovel the dirt back into the grave. “Now we’ll go back to Meah Shearim for a good night’s sleep.”

  “ And then?”

  He leaned on the shovel. “In the morning, we’re going to see an old friend and squeeze him until all the lies drain out of him.”

  *

  Sunday, October 29, 1995

  Lemmy had not expected Metz amp; Co. to be so busy on a Sunday morning, but shoppers kept coming in. Two female models dressed as tulips stood just inside the automatic glass doors, bowing their heads, adorned with red and yellow petals, and waving their green arms.

  A security camera was mounted at the corner under the ceiling. It was aimed at the glass doors, but Lemmy estimated that the lens wasn’t wide enough to capture him. At any event, with his fedora and winter coat, there was little risk of identification, even if someone bothered to examine the video footage.

  Attached to the wall was a pay phone, which Lemmy could use while enjoying a clear view of the opposite street corner, where a green phone booth stood close to the arched bridge. Tanya had not arrived yet. He picked up the receiver and asked the operator to place a collect call to Zurich.

  Christopher was at his desk. “Herr Horch?”

  “Sorry to drag you to the bank on Sunday morning.” Lemmy sheltered the receiver. “Regarding the inactive account, I want to try a few things.”

  “We first need an account number. Only then will the computer let me try a password.” The sound of fingers hitting the keyboard came through the receiver. “I’m ready.”

  “Try this date: January one, nineteen twenty eight.”

  “ One. One. Nine. Two. Eight.” The keystrokes were quick. “No good.”

  “Try the opposite order: Eight. Two. Nine. One. One.”

  Rapid keystrokes. “Yes! It’s asking me for a password!”

  Lemmy breathed deeply. Tanya’s birthday did the trick. Would her name finish the job? He glanced over the two tulips, toward the green phone booth on the other side of the street, by the arched bridge. “Try this: T-A-N-Y-A.”

  Again the keys clicked. “No good,” Christopher said.

  Lemmy bit his lips. A group of teenagers walked in, chatting happily. When they passed, his eyes caught sight of the petite figure across the street, her head held up, her hair flowing free now, casting a silky shadow over her shoulders.

  “Try the reverse order: A-Y-N-A-T.”

  The rattling of the keyboard was followed by Christopher’s cheer. “I’m in!”

  “ Tell me!”

  “ The account owner is Klaus von Koenig. First name is spelled like your son’s name.”

  Lemmy wiped the sweat from his face. “What else do you see?”

  “The entry page. It’s asking for Gunter’s personal pass code.”

  “That’s required if you wanted to conduct transactions in the account. There should be an icon for View Only. It’ll let you see the history of the account, such as deposits, withdrawals, and balance.”

  “ I’m clicking on View Only.”

  The keys rattled again. Then there was silence.

  “Christopher? Are you there?”

  A long whistle came through. “Jesus Christ Almighty!”

  Lemmy turned to the wall, the receiver pressed to his ear.

  Christopher’s voice trembled as he read from the screen. “Client Name: Klaus von Koenig. Authorized Officers: Armande Hoffgeitz, Gunter Schnell.”

  “Go on.”

  “ List of deposits. The last one was received on January 1, 1945. That’s fifty years ago!”

  “ The amounts?”

  “ Deposits are in goods. Primarily diamonds, rubies, pearls, and other gems. And expensive wrist watches. The goods were sold over the first two decades. Now it’s all in financial assets, mainly stocks of large American corporations. There has never been a withdrawal.”

  “ What’s the current balance?”

  “ It’s in U.S. dollars.” Christopher cleared his throat. “Twenty-two billion, eight-hundred and forty-seven million dollars.”

  *

  Rabbi Gerster waited for Itah in his alcove off the synagogue foyer. She had slept in Benjamin’s apartment and arrived after morning prayers were over. She pointed at the narrow cot. “Did you have the best sleep in three decades?”

  He laughed. “I couldn’t sleep at all. And you?”

  “ Like a baby. And Sorkeh forced me to eat the biggest breakfast of my life.” Itah burped. “Excuse me!”

  “ I wrote a letter to my son.”

  “ Can I see it?”

  “ I’ve already hidden it in a place that only he would think of.” Rabbi Gerster didn’t mention the risk, of which they were both aware, that Shin Bet agents would arrest and interrogate them. It was safer for her not to know. “Are you ready?”

  “ Yes.” She raised the plastic shopping bag in her hand. “Sorkeh lent me shoes, a headscarf, and a dress.”

  “ You told her we might not be able to bring it back?”

  Itah nodded. “What about the butcher shop?”

  “ They slaughtered a cow yesterday, so we got everything we need right here.” Rabbi Gerster pointed to the icebox by the door. “It’s a bit heavy.”

  They picked it up by the handles, one on each side, and carried it together. On Shivtay Israel Street they flagged down a taxi.

  A half-hour later, they arrived at Hadassah Hospital. Itah left him at the entrance. She returned a few minutes later, dressed in a white coat, her hands in latex gloves, pushing a wheeled gurney.

  They loaded the icebox on top of the gurney and rolled it through the lobby to the elevator. Up on the fourth floor, Itah lingered in the elevator with the gurney while Rabbi Gerster walked down the hall, past the nurses’ station, the waiting area, and several ICU rooms. Next to the last door on the right, two young men in civilian clothes sat at a desk covered with books and papers, likely catching up on school work while making hourly wages. One of them glanced up, saw him, and nudged the other one, who whispered a comment that caused them both to snicker. Secular Israelis loved to poke fun at black hats for their odd garb and dangling side locks.

  Rabbi Gerster didn’t mind, especially today, considering what these two guys were about to experience. “Is the patient back from the operation?” He pointed at the closed door.r />
  One guard lounged back in his chair, ready for fun. “What’re you saying, Hassid? ”

  Ignoring the mocking tone, the rabbi smiled. “I was coming to pray with him after the operation.”

  “ What operation?” The guard smirked. “A nose job?”

  “ Heaven, no!” Rabbi Gerster struggled not to laugh. “They had to remove most of his intestines-the AIDS is eating him up from within.”

  The mention of that dreaded contagious disease drained the blood from the guard’s face. “Nobody told us he has that! ”

  Rabbi Gerster glanced over his shoulder. Itah was halfway down the hallway, approaching fast. “The poor yid. And he’s not even forty.”

  “ Oh!” The guard was relieved. “Our guy is an old fart.”

  “ He sure is,” the other one said.

  Itah’s gurney was rattling on the floor, closing in.

  “ I’m sorry,” Rabbi Gerster said, pulling out a piece of paper. “Must be another room. You should have seen our patient. Not only his intestines. Also tumors from here.” He gestured at his neck. “Big chunks. And here too.” He tapped his buttocks. “His whole rectum had to be carved out. Riddled with AIDS. Practically rotting away.”

  “ Yuk!” The two guards grimaced.

  “ Ah! Here’s his nurse!” Rabbi Gerster half-turned toward Itah. “Where is he?”

  “ What’s left of him,” Itah said, “is in recovery.” She patted the icebox. “And all this is going to the incinerator-lumps and lumps, chopped off, and all the blood he has lost, full of AIDS. Highly contagious!” She arrived fast, and at the last minute pretended to trip on something, yelped, and swiveled the gurney around, causing the icebox to tip over. Its contents emptied onto the guards’ desk in a torrent of red blood, cascading fleshy chunks, and slithering intestines. The momentum sent much of the gory mess across their desk, over their books and papers, and onto their chests and into their laps.

  *

  “ Almost twenty-three billion dollars.” Lemmy took a deep breath. “One big account, inactive for fifty years. That’s why Herr Hoffgeitz and Gunter have been so anxious.”

  “ It’s incredible,” Christopher said. “What now?”

  “ Sign out of the account and wait for further instructions from me. I’m going to Jerusalem to speak with E.W.” He hung up and turned to watch Tanya. She looked up and down the street, searching for him. Was it a coincidence that she reappeared in his life just as he was gaining access to the fortune left by her Nazi lover in a dormant account for five decades? The account was larger than the annual budget of some countries. Twenty-three billion dollars! Was this just a twist of fate or was she lying to him?