The Jerusalem Assassin

by Avraham Azrieli

  “She’s not here.”

  “Where is she?”

  “At home. Something happened to her mother. She got the news last night.”

  Lemmy was surprised. Other than he, only Shin Bet knew about Tanya’s injury. Why would they tell Bira about it?

  On their way back to the van, Lemmy asked, “Do you know where Bira lives?”

  Benjamin smiled. “Last month, the Supreme Court rejected our petition against the digging of an ancient graveyard on the French Hill, north of Jerusalem. Our people were very upset, and there was talk of violence. Rabbi Gerster and I met with Professor Galinski at her home. No one knew about it. At Neturay Karta, she’s considered an instrument of the devil.”

  “The devil?” Lemmy laughed. “She’s just an archeologist.”

  “She’s the leading archeologist in Israel.”

  “I see. How did the meeting go?”

  Benjamin sighed. “It started well, she explaining how Israelis crave archeological evidence of our past national life here, and he explaining that Orthodox Jews believe that graves were resting places until the Messiah comes and resurrects the righteous. But soon their voices rose, she accused him of trying to enforce primitive religious rules at the expense of modern science, and Rabbi Gerster called her Bar-Giyorah.”

  “Bar Giyorah?”

  “The uncompromising nationalist leader in the great revolt against Rome, which ended in the destruction of the Second Temple.”

  “I remember.” Lemmy imagined his father with Tanya’s daughter or, more strangely, with the daughter of SS Oberstgruppenfuhrer Klaus von Koenig, confronting each other over an unbridgeable ideological gap.

  The van followed Martin Buber Road, down the ridge connecting Mount Scopus with the Mount of Olives, past the Russian church spires of St. Mary Magdalene on the left, along the Valley of Kidron, where Lemmy noticed the hewn stone hand of Absalom’s Tomb, King David’s beloved, rebellious son.

  *

  Rabbi Gerster imagined Lemmy running, out of breath, a group of armed Shin Bet agents hot on his heels. There was silence around the breakfast table, and Agent Cohen repeated his threat: “We’ll hunt him down like a dog!”

  “A bunch of foxes,” Elie said, “chasing after a dog.”

  “That’s right!”

  “Be careful. Sometimes the hunter becomes the hunted.”

  “Who’s going to stop us? You?” The Shin Bet agent unbuttoned his jacket, reached inside, and pulled out Elie’s sheathed blade. “Won’t you need this?”

  “In my time, Shin Bet was very selective.” Elie flexed his yellow-stained fingers as if preparing for a delicate piece of manual undertaking. “No Sephardic boys were let loose running sensitive operations.”

  “Come on,” Itah said, “that’s below the belt.”

  Agent Cohen laughed, but his face was bitter. “Intelligence czar, ah? Exterminator of enemies?” He slammed the sheathed blade on the table. “You’re a nobody, Weiss! Nobody! ”

  With a sense of pending doom, Rabbi Gerster said, “It’s not worth it, Elie.”

  “ You’re a has-been,” Agent Cohen kept going, “a nursing home candidate, a useless piece of broken machinery!”

  Elie removed the oxygen tube from his nose and let it drop to the floor by the tank. “Sometimes a little pinky can bring down a mighty lion.”

  “Now you’re a poet too?” Agent Cohen leaned over the table, his face up close against Elie’s. “Everybody tells me to be careful with Elie Weiss. A dangerous man, they say.” He poked Elie in the chest. “All I see is a pathetic old man. A sclerotic mummy. A joke! ”

  Rabbi Gerster suddenly realized that this was the culmination of Elie’s calculated provocations, carefully staged in rising succession to build up Agent Cohen’s rage and recklessness like a musical composition building up to a climactic crescendo. And there was nothing anyone could do to save the foolish agent.

  “Again with the poking?” Elie looked down at the finger. “Is this some kind of a Moroccan custom? Iraqi? Egyptian? Where did your parents come from?”

  “You have a problem with it?” Agent Cohen poked him harder. “Do you?”

  With calmness that distracted from the speed of his movements, Elie’s right hand clenched Agent Cohen’s forefinger and twisted it sideways, producing the crunchy sound of a breaking bone.

  “ Ahhhh! ”

  Still holding the broken finger with his right hand, Elie’s left hand rose to Agent Cohen’s red face and threaded a pinky under his upper eyelid.

  “ Don’t move,” Elie said, “or you’ll lose the eye.”

  Agent Cohen’s cry was interrupted by a burst of vomit from his mouth.

  Elie moved out of the way, let go of the broken finger, and collected his blade. He maneuvered around the end of the table, his pinky remaining inside Agent Cohen’s eye socket. “That’s a good fellow.” From behind, he made the Shin Bet officer sit down. “Will you cooperate or do you want to look like Moshe Dayan?”

  Agent Cohen bit down on his lower lip and moaned in pain.

  “ Take his gun,” Elie ordered Rabbi Gerster. “His comrades will be here soon.”

  *

  The boy who opened Bira’s door wasn’t crying, but his effort to fight back tears was endearing. He looked at their black coats and hats and started to close the door.

  Benjamin blocked the door. “May we speak with your mother please?”

  “She’s not available now.”

  “ It’s important.”

  The boy disappeared.

  Lemmy and Benjamin entered the foyer and closed the door, shutting out the sun. The rest of the men waited in the van.

  Bira showed up a moment later. “Rabbi Mashash? What are you doing here?”

  “ We need to talk. It will only take a few minutes.”

  She led them through a narrow hallway, a kitchen, and out the back door to a patio bordered by climbing vines. They sat on white plastic chairs around a coffee table.

  Lemmy remembered her as a twenty-year-old in an olive uniform, shouldering an Uzi machine gun. She had aged well, keeping an athletic build and lush hair, but her face was sun-beaten and her blue-gray eyes examined him with discomforting coldness. He asked, “Have you received any news from your mother?”

  “You know my mother?”

  “We know she’s missing.”

  “ That’s what I heard.” Bira’s shoulders slumped. “Her boss called me yesterday.”

  “ The chief of Mossad?”

  She nodded. “I could tell he’s worried. She’s not a field agent. Why in the world would she be out there interacting with hostile-”

  “ It was a business meeting,” Lemmy said. “She didn’t expect any danger.”

  “ And who told you that? God?”

  He laughed.

  Bira glared at him. “What the hell is going on?”

  “ I’m also wondering.” Lemmy removed the hat with the attached beard and payos.

  Bira wasn’t amused. “What’s this? Dressing up for Purim already?”

  “We met once.”

  “ I don’t think so.”

  “ It was way back, when your mother lived near the border and you were in the army.”

  She shook her head.

  “ I carried your duffle bag. It was bloody heavy.”

  “That boy died in the Six Day War.”

  “ We argued. You dismissed faith, saying that Zionism is all about history, about proving who was here first, like establishing a legal ownership record. I countered that belief in the historical truth of biblical stories was a form of faith, which meant you were religious too.”

  She leaned closer to look at him. “That’s impossible!”

  “ We said good-bye at the gate to Meah Shearim. I watched you go, and you waved at me from the corner.”

  She turned to Benjamin. “Is this some kind of a sick joke? My mother has grieved for Jerusalem Gerster for twenty-eight years, poured enough tears to refill the Dead Sea. I’m not going
to accept this man-”

  “ It’s me,” Lemmy said. “It’s really me.”

  Bira looked at him at length in the manner of a scientist examining a specimen that couldn’t possibly exist. Then, without any warning, she leaned forward and slapped Lemmy across the face with such force that he fell off the chair and onto the floor.

  *

  Rabbi Gerster pocketed Agent Cohen’s gun and pushed over the table, creating a barrier between them and the door. He crouched with Itah behind the tabletop and whispered. “Get away when nobody’s watching. Find my son. Warn him!”

  She nodded and pecked him on the cheek.

  Gideon stepped over to the kitchen and stood with the housekeeper, who watched the whole thing with an open mouth. Elie positioned himself behind Agent Cohen, his pinky hooked inside the eye socket, his blade drawn, the sharpened edge resting nonchalantly on the trembling man’s shoulder.

  The door flew open and the two Shin Bet agents rushed in, guns ready.

  “ This feels like a deja vu,” Elie said. He was panting from the exertion, but no one mistook his thin voice for weakness. “Put down your weapons and slide them over, or Agent Cohen here will be shopping for an eye patch or a prosthetic arm. Or both.”

  The nurse hesitated while the other agent glanced at her. She aimed at Elie. “You know the drill-we’re trained to kill hostage takers, not negotiate.”

  “ You’re trained to kill Arab hostage takers,” Elie corrected her. “Not a Jew who’s old enough to be your grandpa, who’s been abused physically and mentally by this bully.” He pressed a bit on the blade, which broke though the shirt and penetrated the shoulder slightly.

  Agent Cohen groaned.

  “ Don’t shoot,” Rabbi Gerster said from behind the upturned tabletop. “We’re all Jews here!”

  *

  Benjamin jumped up and stood between them. “No violence! Please!”

  “ Get out of my house!” Bira stood with her fists clenched, ready to hit Lemmy again. “ Out! ”

  The boy who had opened the door for them came running, followed by a younger girl, who rushed to her mother’s side. Their presence instantly soothed Bira’s anger. Her hands fell by her side. “Everything is fine,” she said. “Go back to your room.”

  The two kids looked at her and at the two men, unsure what to do. The boy pointed at Lemmy. “Where’s your beard?”

  Lemmy got up from the floor and showed him the hat and attached facial hair. “You want to try it?”

  The boy put it on. His sister laughed, and they ran off.

  “ Just like my son,” Lemmy said. “Klaus is ten, almost eleven. We’re trying for a girl-”

  “ I don’t want to know.” Bira’s anger flared again. “Son of a bitch! I could kill you for what you did to her-”

  “ Please,” Benjamin said, “calm down.”

  “ She’s right,” Lemmy said. “I deserve it.”

  “ You deserve worse,” Bira said. “Broke her heart, that’s what you did. She blamed herself for your death-can you imagine living with this kind of guilt?”

  “ I never imagined how much pain my faked death would cause Tanya. She was my first love. Her rejection seemed like the end of the world to me. I was too resentful and too young. The last thing I considered was that she would grieve or feel guilty.”

  Bira sat down, still sulking. “All the grave-grooming and tears and self-deprivation. I can go on and on about the price my mother has continuously extracted from herself over that boy’s death.”

  “I know. She told me.”

  “ What? She knows you’re alive?”

  “ Fate brought us together. We met, but she was being followed. She was hurt badly.”

  “Oh, no!” Bira sucked air, covering her mouth.

  “Here.” He handed her a note. “Call this number in Amsterdam. Ask for Carl. He knows me as a Swiss banker named Wilhelm Horch-Lemmy for short. Meet him there, and he’ll take you to Tanya. But trust no one else. Your mother’s life depends on it.”

  “What about your father?” Bira’s eyes were no longer hostile. “The news reports are shocking.”

  Lemmy took out his father’s notes, the bank statements and the ILOT Member Manual.

  Bira read through everything while they watched her in silence.

  “ The strategy is working,” she said. “There are a few of these fanatical groups. The fringe right is now setting the tone for the whole right wing, including Likud. But if the public learns that Shin Bet pays for these incitements, there’s going to be a huge backlash. It will destroy Rabin politically, because no one will believe it was done without his knowledge.”

  “It appears that Shin Bet has let Elie plot the whole thing, pay for it from SOD budget, and then they shut him down at the last moment. They probably think that your mom was working with Elie Weiss.”

  Bira stood. “I can’t worry about Israel now. I must take care of my mother.” She left to prepare for her trip to Amsterdam. Lemmy picked a red grape and popped it into his mouth. He offered one to Benjamin, who recited a blessing and ate it.

  “Amen,” Lemmy said.

  “I’m concerned.” Benjamin pulled another grape off the vines. “What if those Shin Bet characters try to silence you?”

  “I’m sure they’re already trying.”

  *

  “ Okay.” The nurse raised her gun, aiming at the ceiling. “But I won’t surrender my weapon to you.”

  “ Then give it to me,” Gideon said. “I’m neutral.”

  Elie gave him a cold glance, but Gideon’s offer was a clever face-saving way out. They put their guns on the counter, and Gideon collected them.

  “ Go over there,” Elie said, pointing at the sofa against the opposite wall.

  They obeyed.

  He beckoned the housekeeper. “Bring the phone to the good nurse.”

  “ Who do you want me to call?” The nurse’s face was crimson, either from anger or shame. “The Red Cross?”

  Rabbi Gerster stood up and pulled over a chair. He helped Elie sit down slowly, but the change of angle caused his pinky to shift, and Agent Cohen cried in pain.

  “ Call your Number One,” Elie said.

  The nurse opened her mouth to argue, but Agent Cohen yelled, “Do it!”

  The call went though several secured connections before a man’s voice sounded on the speakerphone. “Yes?”

  “ We have a problem,” the nurse said.

  “ We have an opportunity,” Elie said.

  “ Weiss? Is that you?”

  “ How’s Paris treating you?”

  “ What’s going on there?”

  “ Let’s just say that…the tables have turned. Literally.”

  “ Explain!”

  “ He’s got Cohen,” the nurse said from the sofa.

  Number One was silent for a moment. “What do you want?”

  “ How’s the wife and kids?”

  “ Skip the pleasantries, okay?”

  “ I’m upset,” Elie said. “You had me arrested-twice. You detained my people. You invaded my territory and prospected for my financial resources. It feels like a hostile takeover.”

  “ And who started it?”

  “ Ah. My meeting with Rabin?”

  “ That’s right! You made a move on us!”

  “ Not exactly.”

  “ Intelligence czar? Is that the mother of all takeovers or what?”

  “ I see your point.”

  “ What did you think? You left us no choice!”

  “ If I may,” Rabbi Gerster said, “this turf war is ripe for an armistice, so I propose-”

  “ Excusez-moi,” Number One said, the speakerphone communicating his irritation, “but who the hell is this?”

  “ Rabbi Abraham Gerster of Neturay Karta.”

  “ Holy shit! You work for SOD?”

  “ For the Jewish people,” Rabbi Gerster said. “What about a ceasefire? Let’s go back to the old detente. Elie calls off the deal with Rabin. SOD and Shin
Bet return to peaceful co-existence. And we all live happily ever after.”

  “ Too late,” Number One said. “We already took over Freckles and shut down the staged assassination plot.”

  “ Did you?” Elie’s dark eyes focused on the bare wall across the room. “That boy, Yoni Adiel, is a free agent, real fanatic kind of a guy.”

  “ We’re watching him. He’s in the bag. ILOT is history.”

  “ Impressive,” Elie said.

  “ Your deal with Rabin is off, Weiss-if there ever was a deal, which is in question.”

  “ I accept my defeat,” Elie said. “That’s life. You lose some, you win some.”

  “ Good,” Rabbi Gerster said. “Let’s all go home now.”

  “ Not so fast,” Number One said. “We’ve shut down your ILOT scheme, got you locked up, and are closing in on your financial sources in Zurich. Why should we give up a perfect set of cards?”

  “ What about your agents here?”

  Number One chuckled. “You won’t take another Jew’s life.”

  “ But I’ll take another Jew’s marriage.” Elie slipped his pinky out of Agent Cohen’s eye socket, making him cry out and cover his eye.

  The line from Paris was quiet.

  Elie wiped his pinky on a napkin. “How is Madame de Chevallier?”

  Again, no answer.

  “ I hear she’s satisfied with your new implant.”

  “ Weiss! ”

  “ But she complains that it makes you cocky.”

  Everyone burst out laughing, even the housekeeper in the kitchen.

  “ I guess the free rent balances it out for her.”

  “ I’m warning you,” Number One shouted, “shut up!”

  “Don’t take it personally, but I believe in wearing a belt and suspenders. To defend SOD’s independence in any confrontation with our sister agencies, I’ve formed solid political bonds and collected sordid personal secrets about every one of my opponents. Push me any farther, and there’s going to be a frightful surge in business for divorce lawyers, not to mention the media frenzy.”

  Number One’s voice was deep with hate. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “ That’s enough,” Rabbi Gerster interjected. “Do we have an agreement?”

  “ I can’t let you go,” Number One said. “The peace rally on Saturday night is crucial for Rabin’s government. We’ve detained hundreds of troublemakers and shut down provocative schemes, including yours. I won’t risk setting you free to pursue your crazy plots again.”