Hill of Secrets: An Israeli Jewish mystery novel

by Michal Hartstein

  The envelope was addressed to Post Box 50219, Tel Aviv, with no recipient name, only the post box address. The envelope had already been opened, so I peered into it.

  Inside the envelope were ten 200 shekel bills.

  Bingo. Meir was blackmailing someone.

  Monday, 5.25.2009

  The envelope immediately went to forensics. A number of finger prints were found on it, some of them Meir’s, but none of them Hanni’s. Alon decided that the discovery of the envelope and the letter left no choice but to expand the investigation. He had to pull Shachar out of the team investigating, a suspect on bribe and fraudulent crimes in a government office, and sent him to Discount Bank. Shachar was the department’s jack of all trades. After years in traffic police, he began law school and finally managed to get into investigations.

  Our assumption was that there were only two options for extortion: either Meir found out something un-kosher at his work place and began blackmailing someone, or the blackmail was on personal grounds. Shachar, who had a background in white collar investigations, was sent to interrogate employees of the Discount Bank and I continued with the personal inquiry. I asked Shachar to send Amos any electronic devices he found in Meir’s office.

  Post Box 50219 was located at the post office near Meir’s workplace. I showed the branch manager my police badge and the warrant we’d obtained to open the post box.

  Meir had started using the post box about ten months earlier—in July 2008. To open a post box, all a person had to do was identify himself and pay a toll of 180 shekels. The branch manager couldn’t say how active Box 50219 was, but thought it was probably not as active as boxes belonging to companies. She didn’t recall Meir either. She got chills from the fact that the infamous Meir Danilowitz had a post box in her post office.

  Who was Meir extorting? Did the person being extorted know him? Did he even know the identity of his blackmailer? Maybe Meir was blackmailing the wrong source? Maybe he was blackmailing a criminal element who was getting back at Meir?

  Meir’s office was located a few meters from the post office and I decided to go up and visit Shachar. That afternoon, I was finally meeting with Meir’s parents, who finished the Shiva that morning, and the meeting at the post office was shorter than anticipated.

  Shachar was waiting for me in Meir’s office. We asked to speak again with Danit, Meir’s department manager, before we began interrogating workers. Danit was late that day and Shachar had to wait for her to arrive. While he was waiting he went through Meir’s office.

  “Did you find anything interesting?”

  “No.” Shachar wrinkled up his nose. He was obviously bored and disappointed with the fact that he was forced to leave the fascinating case he had been working on the last few weeks. “I turned over all of the files here and found nothing, no letters or envelopes.”

  “Did you go through the computer? Find a flash drive, maybe?”

  “He had three in the drawer.” He collected the three little sticks he found and handed them to me. “There’s nothing on them. The first one has family pictures on it, the second has a few files and financial reports and the third is empty.”

  “Is there anything interesting in the business files? Anything suspicious?”

  “Not at first glance. They’re the financial reports of a medium sized commercial company called Mega-byte Services Inc. and a few files that analyzed the company’s results.”

  “Did you check up on this company?”

  “I did a quick search online—it’s a company that sells computers and computer parts and provides computer services in the customer’s home. Nothing criminal or suspicious. I think he just saved the data on the disk because he had to take it to a meeting.”

  “And what about the computer? Did you find anything on the computer?”

  “I didn’t have too much time to look, but I don’t think there’s anything here. Of course, we need to get it to Amos to be inspected, but in a quick, shallow glance, there’s nothing here.”

  Danit’s secretary carefully knocked on the door. Danit had arrived.

  We shut the door behind us and sat across from Danit. This time she was a little less emotional than the last time I talked to her. Then, she was still in shock from Meir’s actions.

  “Is there anything new that you need me for?” She cut to the chase.

  “Yes, there is.” I tried to assume a look of utmost importance. “Before I share what I have to say with you, I hope it’s clear to you that everything that’s said in this room stays in this room. This is secret investigation material and if it gets out it can cause great damage.”

  Danit looked at me in shock. She had no idea how she could be connected to what happened in the Danilowitz home a week earlier.

  “We have reasonable grounds to suspect that Meir Danilowitz was blackmailing someone.” Danit’s eyes opened in shock. “Right now, we have no idea who he was extorting and why he was doing it, and that’s why we’re here.”

  “Do you think he was extorting one of our customers?” she said in a voice higher than usual. She was either totally surprised, or she could nominate herself for an Oscar.

  “Maybe one of the other workers?” Shachar chimed in.

  “Allow me to introduce Shachar Manor, who’s supporting me in the investigation in light of these new discoveries.” I introduced Shachar to Danit. “Can you describe for me the clients who worked with Meir and with your department? Did you have any business with any dubious individuals or bodies?”

  Danit raised both her hands. “You can stop your assumptions right now! We do not—and never had—any dubious clients or businesses. We make sure to give credit based on legitimate business only.”

  “What can you tell us about Mega-byte Services?” Shachar shot out.

  “Not too much, a very solid company. The owners are young people, very creative and hardworking.”

  “Did Meir handle their account?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was there any change in the activity with them recently?”

  “I wasn’t at the heart of the matter yet, but Meir was there two weeks ago, when they asked for a significant expansion of their credit limit.” This probably explained the reason why the company’s data was on the disc. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary, it’s pretty much the main aspect of our work here,” she immediately added.

  “Because of new findings in the case, we’d like to interrogate the rest of the department’s workers,” I explained. “Shachar will be conducting most of the inquiries at the bank, and in order to avoid summoning all of the workers to the station, we’d appreciate you allotting a small room for us to conduct the interrogations in. I assume the interrogations will cause a rumor mill. There are very few people who are aware of the fact that there’s a suspicion that Meir was extorting someone and you’re one of them. Leaking this information would constitute a serious obstruction of justice.” I warned Danit, and she considered it a threat.

  “There’s no need to threaten.” She seemed angry. “My team and I will cooperate while maintaining the necessary level of secrecy.”

  “No threats,” Shachar decided to assume the role of good cop, “We’re just keeping everything clear.”

  “Everything is crystal clear.” She smiled a phony smile.

  *

  After we left her room, Danit called her secretary who, a few minutes later, led us to a small, stylish conference room at the end of the hall.

  "Danit said you need a room to interview people in," she said and turned on the light. "Do you want anything to drink? To eat?"

  "Cold water." Shachar said.

  "Black coffee," I smiled, "and a list of all of the department workers' names and numbers."

  "No problem," she said and closed the door behind her.

  She returned in a short while with the drinks and the list of workers.

  I had a little more time, so I decided to stay and hear some of Meir's co-workers before going to visit Natan and Sar
ah Danilowitz.

  In about two hours I managed to speak with four of Meir's co-workers. Meir did, indeed, spend many hours at work, a fact that apparently didn't help his popularity in the department. His co-workers didn’t think he was a brilliant banker, but they admitted he put far more effort into his work than was required of him. One of those questioned admitted he was angry at Meir a few months earlier since he managed, by way of flattery, to steal from under his nose a client who yielded a handsome bonus. It was obvious that the guy was emotional from the interrogation itself and gave this information with no pressure from Shachar or myself. Shachar and I smiled to one another when he left the room—he hadn’t aroused our suspicions.

  Although Meir had returned to work at the bank about two-and-a-half years earlier, none of the staff could tell us any personal information about Meir. He didn't connect with anyone or share his personal life. The worker whose bonus was taken from him told us that, despite his anger, he felt a little sorry for Meir because he seemed like a miserable, lonely guy. When they worked together on a case, he remembered that Hanni was at the end of her pregnancy and didn't stop bossing Meir around.

  "I didn't know him well enough," he told us, "so I wasn't comfortable saying anything about it or asking him, but I really never saw a guy whose wife drove him crazy like that. Pregnant or not—and my wife was pregnant too—she never drove me insane like she did him."

  Chapter 14

  Meir's parents and sisters finished the Shiva that morning. At their request, I came to their house in the afternoon. Natan and Sarah Danilowitz had lived for the past four years in a private ground floor apartment in Kfar Ganim C neighborhood in Petach Tikva. I asked Shira about it before I arrived and she told me it was the most prestigious neighborhood in Petach Tikva, mainly for the religious public.

  Even if the bank manager and Hanni's parents hadn't told me anything, I could have guessed that this was a family with money in its pockets. On the outside, the house looked like the rest of the houses on the street. The neighborhood was new and the style of construction was more or less uniform, but once you entered the house, the visitor had no doubt that a considerable fortune was invested in each and every corner of it. A reserved sort of wealth, not ostentatious.

  The obituary notice about the death of their son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren was still on the front door. The house itself was deserted. There was no sign of the masses of people who usually visit grieving homes. Natan Danilowitz opened the door and I entered the massive living room that was floored with giant tiles. (My younger sister Ayala is a design buff and she once explained to me that the larger the tile, the more expensive it is.) Beige hues clad sofas and antique wood furniture.

  On the walls and the display cabinets were many pieces of art and Judaica. I couldn't evaluate it, but I got the sense that each item was meticulously selected and cost a considerable sum. Next to the living room was a giant dining area, a heavy wooden table and a dozen matching chairs. By the dining area was a spacious, lit, fully-equipped kitchen, the dream of every homemaker. Ayala would sell her soul to the devil to live in a house like this. I could only imagine the amount of energy that would need to be invested in cleaning such a fort, although I guessed the family had a full time housekeeper.

  I stood in the middle of the living room and Natan went to the kitchen to get me a glass of water. Sarah Danilowitz entered the living room from the patio door which led to a well-kept garden.

  "Hello." She approached me and warmly shook my hand.

  I introduced myself, but she knew who I was. Natan returned with a cool glass of water, and I downed it quickly.

  I looked at Natan and Sarah Danilowitz and my heart sank. They had to take most of the fire and criticism. They bore and raised a despicable killer. I didn't know them, but they seemed like good people to me. Meir looked exactly like his father. His mother, a small, frail woman with a warm gaze, offered to sit in the living room or the garden.

  "I have to sit with each of you individually," I explained and they nodded their understanding. "I thought Meir's sisters would be here too. I'd love to talk to them as well."

  "They went back home," Sarah explained. "They’d been gone almost a week."

  Sarah led me upstairs to the second floor. On the second floor were a number of bedrooms. In the large space connecting the rooms was a lounge with a TV and dozens of toys scattered every which way. This was, apparently, where the couple's grandchildren played. I tried to imagine little Ariel and Galit playing with their cousins and grandparents. Sarah opened one of the doors and we entered a study full of books. Another door in the room led to a pleasant sun deck overlooking the garden and attached to Sarah and Natan's bedroom.

  Sarah sat on one of the two chairs by the desk and I sat on the other chair. She crossed her legs and gently placed her hands in her lap. Her gaze was slightly lowered and her eyes were sad.

  She stated her details for the protocol almost in a whisper. I asked her to state them again so there would be no problem with the recording and she repeated them in a quivering voice.

  "Tell me a little bit about Meir - what kind of child was he?"

  "Meir was our little boy. He was born following two girls, Meirav and Michal, who cared for him like he was their little boy. In fact he had three mothers, his two sisters and me." She broke down in tears and wiped her nose with a tissue from a pack she prepared beforehand.

  "Do you want a moment to calm down? I can start with Natan," I offered.

  "It's okay," she wiped her nose again, "I can go on. Meir was always a good boy. He was a beautiful boy, very popular, very well-liked. I'm afraid that we spoiled him a little bit, after all, he was an only boy after two sisters who were quite a few years older than him."

  "How many?" I stopped her.

  "Meirav was born in 1966 and Michal in 1968. They were eight and six years older. Both of them married very young and from about the age of fifteen he was actually the only child in our house, until he got married eleven years later."

  "He lived with you until he got married?" I asked in amazement. Meir was twenty-six years old on his wedding day.

  "In our circles it isn't so rare. And back then we were living in a private house and had a separate annex for him. I know it sounds like he was spoiled, and I guess he got much more than other boys, but we had it, so we gave it to him. He never took what we gave him for granted. He was always grateful and as long as he was living in our house, he helped us and followed the rules of our household. He never talked back rudely, not to us and not to his teachers, never rebelled or even tried to rebel. Really a good kid."

  "What kind of student was he?"

  "Very studious, though I have to admit it wasn't easy for him. He had decent grades, but he had to work very hard for them."

  "Tell me about how he met Hanni."

  "He met Hanni when he was a guide in Bnei Akivah. He led a group at the Malabes branch and met her for the first time at a Bnei Akivah summer camp. I remember, he returned from the camp completely enamored."

  "He told you about it?" I was astonished.

  "Of course not," she smiled, "but a mother knows."

  "You knew he’d fallen in love with Hanni?"

  "I didn't know with whom, but I saw that he fell in love at camp… I didn't have the details. Years later, they met again at university and started going out, and then he reminded me of that summer. He thought it was fate that reunited them. When they met again in university, Meir was in his first year and Hanni had graduated, although she was three years younger than him—she’d skipped a grade and only did one year of service. Meir was an officer in the army and served an extra year. After the army, he went abroad for a little while and improved his grades and took the psychometric test."

  "What did you think of Hanni when Meir brought her home?"

  "We thought she was a good girl. A little bit uptight, but a quality girl with a head on her shoulders. She was - still is - was," Sarah was flustered, "a very beautiful
girl."

  "What do you mean, uptight?"

  "Well, it was manifested in a lot of things, but what I remember from when they started dating is that from a very early stage she pressed him to get married. I didn't understand why she was in a rush, Meir had only begun his studies and she was barely twenty-two years old."

  "You said your daughters also married young."

  "Even younger. Meirav at twenty-two and Michal at twenty-one. But we never pushed them to get married so young, it just turned out that way."

  "Isn't it common in your circles to marry at a young age?"

  "Religious Zionists are now much more modern than they used to be. They do marry younger than secular Jews, but we don't run to get married at twenty."

  "So, eventually, Meir gave in?"

  "There was nothing to give in to. He knew, and also told her pretty quickly, that he wanted to marry her, but he didn't think they needed to rush, especially in light of the fact that he was still studying and she was so young."

  "What broke him in the end?"

  "After ten months together, she left him, and our boy was just devastated. He really wanted her, but he also wanted to be financially independent, or at least have a degree, before they get married. He didn't understand the rush. He was broken down like that for a month until my husband and I couldn't take it anymore and we promised him to support them financially, so they could get married. You need to understand, we had no problem supporting them financially, it was Meir who didn't want us to, he really wanted to be independent, maybe to prove to all of us that he wasn't everybody's little boy."