The Kabbalist

by Katz, Yoram

Professor Eldad’s reaction was alarming. He suddenly grew pale and dropped back in his chair. “God Almighty,” he muttered.

  Jeanne and Luria exchanged worried glances. “What is it?” asked Jeanne. “Are you all right, Professor?”

  Eldad opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He looked like a fish out of the water. Eventually, he managed to speak. “What was in that package?” he croaked. “Are you telling me the whole story?”

  “Sure we are.” Luria was puzzled. “What are you implying?”

  Eldad slowly regained control over himself. “I am asking myself,” he said quietly, “whether you really do not understand or whether you are just pretending not to.”

  “Understand what?”

  “That this package may have contained something, which somebody was willing to kill for!”

  A hidden muscle twitched in Luria’s face.

  “What?” Jeanne was alarmed. “What are you saying?”

  Eldad smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. “You may ask our friend here.” He gestured with his head towards Luria. “He knows exactly what I am talking about.”

  Jeanne turned her eyes inquisitively to Luria, but he was not really there. He was daydreaming.

  And it was a bad dream.

  21. Stella Maris – Haifa, January 16th, 2006 (Monday)

  The ringing woke Superintendent Yossi Luria up. He looked around in a stupor. On the other side of the bed, Ella was wrapped up in her separate blanket, with only her red curls visible on the pillow. He fumbled around until he found his mobile phone and pressed it against his ear. “Luria,” he said tersely, looking at the digital clock on the cabinet. The red digits read 03:33.

  “Luria, this is Danny,” said the voice on the other side. Danny was one of the more competent detectives in Luria’s unit.

  “What is it, Danny?”

  “Sorry to wake you up at this hour, sir. We have a homicide, and I am at the scene. I thought you might want to know.”

  Homicide; Luria was all at once awake. “Yes. Sure, what happened?”

  “The Stella Maris Monastery, French Carmel.”

  “Yes. I know the place.”

  “It’s one of the monks. The body is still at the scene. Want me to wait for you?”

  “Yes. I am on my way.” Luria threw the blanket aside and jumped out of bed.

  “What happened?” Ella sat up, dazed, and looked at him.

  “It’s a homicide. I must go,” said Luria. “You can go back to sleep.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Half past three. Just go back to sleep.”

  “I don’t know. I am not sure I will fall asleep. I have an exam in the morning.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Try to sleep, honey.” The scent of her hair was sweet.

  It was a cold night, and he was trembling when he entered the bathroom. He rinsed his face and stifled a yell as the ice-cold water hit him. He then brushed his teeth, looked at the tired face in the mirror and decided to skip shaving. He went back to the bedroom and quickly put something on. Finally, he wrapped himself in a shapeless raincoat, shoved a flashlight into one of its pockets, and stepped out into the wet night. After a ten-minute drive through Haifa’s dark and damp streets, he arrived at the scene. From a distance, he could already see the flashing red and blue lights of the police cars at the monastery entrance. He slid next to them and stopped the car. Danny, in civilian clothes, was walking towards him with a big umbrella and the two hurried into the monastery building.

  “What happened here?” asked Luria.

  “Around two o’clock, Control got a call from the Abbot, Father Rafael. It seems that at about 01:30, Brother Michel, one of the monks, thought he heard noises coming from the main building. He walked in there and found the library door open. The library was lit by a small lamp, which was standing on the reading table. Peeping inside, he saw somebody lying on the floor. The frightened Michel rushed to wake up Father Rafael, and they both entered the library. They found Father Fernando Diaz lying on the floor, his head in a pool of blood. They immediately called for an ambulance and alerted the police. The man was most likely dead already.”

  “Has anything been taken?” asked Luria.

  “I have asked Father Rafael this very question. He claims nothing seems to be missing.”

  “Security cameras?”

  “A basic setup of four cameras covers the exterior of the building, including the entrance. One of our men is collecting the data as we speak.”

  Luria nodded. “I see. Let’s go in.”

  The library was lit. At its center stood a reading table surrounded by a few wooden benches. Near one of the benches, the farthest from the door, Luria could see the body. Yellow tapes marked the area and a small forensic team, a doctor and a police photographer, were working quietly around the body. A young monk was staring at them; he looked overwhelmed. Danny introduced him to Luria. “This is Brother Pedro. He was asked by Father Rafael to help us. Brother Pedro, this is my chief, Superintendent Luria.” They shook hands.

  Luria and Danny then approached the police team. A young man was putting a few instruments in his bag. He closed it and was about to walk away, when his eyes met Luria’s.

  “Hello, Doctor Nevo,” said Luria.

  “Luria!” Called out the young man and immediately lowered his voice. “We must stop meeting like this.”

  Luria smiled. From his previous encounters with the doctor, he learned to appreciate his special brand of humor as well as his professionalism. “What can you tell me, doctor?”

  “Like I have already told your man, this is a clear-cut case. The deceased was hit by a blunt instrument, which was forcefully brought down the right side of the head, near the right temple. He then collapsed, and the back of his neck hit the bench. There is damage and bleeding from the head wound, but the cause of death is a broken neck.”

  “Blunt instrument?”

  “The wound on the temple could have been inflicted by a metal object, perhaps the handle of a gun.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, it could have been any hard object, but a gun handle would fit the size and shape of the wound. I will have more details after the autopsy. This is all I have for the time being.”

  “Time of death?” inquired Luria.

  “About three hours ago,” said Nevo. “Any more questions?”

  Luria thought a while. “No. Thanks Doctor. Good night.”

  The doctor waved his hand dismissively, apparently much in doubt whether this night would turn out to be a particularly good one, and walked towards the exit.

  Luria looked at Danny.

  “We have searched the place and found no such object,” said Danny.

  Luria bent down and knelt next to the body. The face of the dead monk rested on its left side, with the visible right side covered in dried blood. He stood up and surveyed the area, trying to take in the details. “What was the monk doing here when he was attacked?” he wondered aloud. “This is a library, so he must have come here to browse a book or something… Were there any books or documents on the table?”

  Danny shook his head. “We have found none.”

  “Could he have heard a noise, rushed in to see what happened and was then attacked?” Luria was speculating.

  “Unlikely,” said Danny. “Look at the position of the body and at the blood on the bench. He was sitting on the bench when he was attacked from behind. I believe he never knew what hit him. He was knocked on the head, fell sideways, hit the bench and rolled over to the floor.”

  Luria looked again at the bench and body. His man’s reasoning was sound. “OK,” he said, “suppose he was already seated at the table. Where are the books he was supposed to be browsing?” He pondered the issue a bit. “Perhaps he had not removed them from the shelves as yet.”

  Danny did not agree. “So why was he sitting down? And look at what I have found.” He presented two small sealed plastic bags. Inside one was a fountain pen; its cap was in the
other.

  “A fountain pen,” observed Luria.

  “I found the pen on the floor near the body. The cap was on the table.”

  Luria looked at him appreciatively. “Then, our man was writing something.” Danny nodded.

  “So something is definitely missing in the scene; a sheet of paper, a notebook, a book perhaps?”

  Danny nodded again. Luria gazed at the walls and at the shelves that covered them. “If the photographer and the forensics are finished, you can have the body removed,” he said and Danny signaled the men, who were waiting not too far from them.

  Luria walked slowly to the shelves nearest to where they were standing and looked at them carefully. He then pulled out the flashlight from his raincoat pocket and examined the books on the shelves. He stood at the same spot for a long time, scanning all the books. He then started walking slowly along the walls, examining the lines of books standing on the shelves with his flashlight and occasionally stopping for a closer look. Eventually, he returned to the spot where he had started and signaled Danny to come over.

  “Look at the books in this row.” Luria focused his flashlight on one of the shelves. “Do you see anything special?” Danny made an effort but had no idea what to look for. He shook his head, feeling embarrassed.

  “Take a look at these five volumes,” Luria directed his flashlight at the row of books on the right-hand side of the shelf.

  Danny looked again. “They are protruding a bit, sticking out compared to the other books on the shelf,” he observed.

  “Very good,” said Luria. “Now, take a closer look and note the dust layer on these volumes. You can clearly see that while the other books are covered with a more or less uniform layer of dust, on these specific volumes, dust is conspicuously missing in places. Can you see the marks of fingers and a palm? Somebody has touched these volumes recently.”

  Danny whistled in wonder. “You are right. And you think these are the books the monk had been browsing tonight.”

  “Perhaps,” said Luria, “but this is not the whole story.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you told me there were no documents on the table when you arrived here, and we also agreed that the monk was working at the time he was attacked. With this in mind, I find it hard to believe that after having been fatally hit, he stood up, put the books back on the shelf, and returned to lie down at the same spot.”

  Danny blushed and felt like a complete idiot.

  “But before we take a look at these volumes, which may have interested the late Father Fernando,” added Luria. “I would like forensics to take a look at them.”

  Danny went to get the forensics man, while Luria kept on eyeing the shelf with interest. Danny came back with the technician, explained to him what they wanted him to do and the two detectives watched him put on his latex gloves and carefully dust the visible back of the volumes. “There are some neat prints here,” said the technician when he was finished. “Now we can hunt for some more data.” He started carefully retrieving the volumes and arranging them on the table. When he got to the third one, he froze, his eyes fixed on the wall that could now be seen behind. “And what have we got here?” He exclaimed eventually, letting out a low whistle.

  Luria used his flashlight to probe. On the wall, above the shelf, they could see a small metal door with a dial mounted on it - a safe. Luria and Danny exchanged glances. “Look for fingerprints on this door,” said Luria.

  They waited for the technician to remove and scan all the volumes and then a few more minutes as he worked on the safe. When all was done, Luria put the volumes back in place. “Now,” he told Danny. “Please ask Father Rafael and Brother Michel to step in.”

  In his eighties, Father Rafael was a highly recognized Israeli figure, whose life story got him countless articles in the press and a best-seller biography. He was born to a Jewish-Polish family. When the German onslaught began in 1939, he escaped as a boy into the Soviet occupied part of Poland. When in 1941 the Germans invaded the Soviet Union, he fled with false papers and worked as a translator for the Vilna police which cooperated with the Germans. From this position, young Rafael managed to forewarn the Vilna Ghetto residents about a number of police raids, and smuggled in guns and false ID documents. Having been exposed, he ran away and found shelter in a monastery, where he converted to Christianity. After the war he joined the Carmelites, with the intention to arrive at a monastery in Israel. Fifteen years later his request was approved, and he was also awarded Israeli citizenship.

  The two monks were now facing the two detectives. Brother Michel was evidently unsettled, shooting frightened glances at his superior, who once in a while laid a hand on the young monk’s shoulder to calm him down. Occasionally, Brother Michel would turn his head, look at the blood stains on the floor and quickly turn his head back. Father Rafael, on the other hand, was in full control and looked calm. Luria was impressed with the quiet power emanating from the old man, whom he had heard so much about but never met before. Danny introduced Luria to the two monks.

  “I would like to express my condolences for the loss you have suffered tonight,” Luria spoke to Father Rafael in Hebrew. “I assure you the police will do all within its power to find out what happened and bring the perpetrators to justice.”

  Father Rafael nodded.

  “It must have been a terrible night for you, and we will not bother you more than necessary. We already have your statements of what happened here tonight, but I would like to ask you again whether anything has been taken from this room. Are there any valuables that could have attracted a burglar? Perhaps an object that might have been valuable to some collectors?”

  “Superintendent Luria,” Father Rafael spoke fluent Hebrew in a warm though somewhat quivering voice. “As I have told your colleague, this room contains nothing but books. In the monastery church, there are ritual objects with some artistic value, but nobody seems to have been there tonight. Nevertheless, we checked and nothing seems to be missing. Same goes for this room. We’ll do a more thorough check in the morning, but I don’t believe anything has been taken.”

  “If this was an attempted robbery,” said Luria, “we would like to know what drew the burglar here.”

  “Couldn’t it have been a random burglar?” wondered Father Rafael. “Couldn’t somebody have broken in with the hope of finding some valuables, before being interrupted by poor Father Fernando?”

  Luria took a few steps and stopped near the shelf with the volumes concealing the safe. He glanced at Father Rafael’s face to see his response. The old man stayed perfectly calm. Luria extended his hand and slowly pulled out the volumes, one by one, still watching the two monks. Brother Michel was looking at his superior, obviously alarmed. Father Rafael did not respond, but Luria imagined he saw a flicker of a smile in his somber eyes. After the volumes had been removed, the safe became visible. “And what is this?” asked Luria.

  "This is an ordinary safe in which we keep some special books,” said the old man calmly, “but they are not that valuable to interest a burglar.”

  “Can you open it for us, please? I mean, only if you have no problem showing us the contents. I would not like to invade your privacy.”

  “I appreciate it,” said the Abbot, “but we have nothing to hide.” He walked confidently to the safe and handled the dial. The lock clicked, and he opened it. There were two books inside.

  “May I ask what these books are?”

  “Of course,” Father Rafael extended a trembling hand, reached for one of the books and handed it to Luria. Luria examined the cover. The title of the book was ‘L'histoire d'une âme’; the author’s name read ‘Thérèse of Lisieux’.

  “The story of a soul,” explained Father Rafael. “This is the autobiography of the saint Thérèse of Lisieux. Thérèse was a Carmelite nun, who died from tuberculosis in 1897, aged twenty four, and was later recognized as a saint. The two books are from the original edition, and that is why we keep them in th
e safe. I do not expect them to be of much material value beyond their spiritual one.”

  “This is very interesting,” said Luria. “And what is the other book?”

  Father Rafael retrieved the second book. “Thérèse of Lisieux’s collection of letters.”

  Luria took the book and gazed at it for a few seconds. Danny imagined he saw something in his chief’s face. Luria was obviously puzzled. “Thank you,” he said after a while, and returned the book to the old man. “Well, I guess that’s it. We are done now. I thank you for your cooperation.”

  Father Rafael put the books back and closed the safe door. The two monks bowed politely and turned to go. Before leaving, Father Rafael exchanged a few words with Brother Pedro, who stayed on watch.

  Luria now turned to the forensic man who was busy packing. “Just a moment; before you leave, please check the safe for fingerprints.”

  Danny and the technician looked at him incredulously. “I have already done that,” said the technician at last.

  “And I am asking you to do it again,” insisted Luria. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, of course not.” The technician looked at Danny and shrugged. He then unpacked his suitcase and started working again.

  A young man entered the library, his eyes searching around. When he saw Danny, he headed towards the two detectives. “This is Leon, the technician who went to get hold of the video,” explained Danny when the man came closer. “What’s up, Leon?”

  “The murderer arrived at the scene at 01:22 am.”

  “So we have his picture?”

  Leon shook his head. “Unfortunately not. At 01:22, somebody, presumably the murderer, covered the lenses of the camera at the back. I checked the camera location. It is very accessible and he just threw an old rag over it, without getting himself in view.”

  “Did you send forensics over there?” asked Danny. Leon nodded.

  “OK, then. Thank you.”

  “Anyway, I got the material,” said Leon. “Will there be anything else?”

  “No. That will be all.” Danny looked disappointed. “We’ll go through it together at the station.”