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The Kabbalist

Page 17

by Katz, Yoram


  “What the hell is the matter with you? Don’t you ever knock?”

  Danny was too excited to notice his chief’s annoyance. “We have a report of a Mazda-3 found in the Ben Shemen woods. There is a body next to the vehicle and guess what? The car was reported stolen yesterday morning, from Sderot Hatzvi, Central Carmel, Haifa, just next to Keller Street.” Danny was enthusiastic. “You did it again, sir.”

  Luria jumped out of his chair. “When did this report come in?”

  “Five minutes ago.”

  “Let me make sure I get the authority to take over the crime scene.” Luria was all fired up. “We’ll be leaving soon.”

  * * *

  The ride took almost ninety minutes. Danny was driving, with Luria constantly on the phone, making sure he had the command of the scene. Arnon handled it directly with general police HQ and got it approved. Once this was done, Luria pulled his chair back into a near horizontal position, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  23. Ben Shemen Woods, January 17th, 2006 (Tuesday)

  The scene of the crime turned out to be a small clearing inside the woods, not too far from the main road. The place was buzzing with activity. Yellow tapes marked the boundaries of the scene, and the usual crowd was on site. A photographer and a forensic technician were busy doing their job. A chief inspector and two uniformed policemen were standing nearby engaged in a lively discussion.

  Danny parked the car, and the two detectives got out and approached the working team. Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at them disapprovingly. “Just a moment,” said the chief inspector. “Who the hell are you? Who allowed you in here?”

  Luria took out his wallet and produced a small laminated card. “Superintendent Yossi Luria, detective, Haifa Police,” he introduced himself. “This is a special investigation, and I have been instructed to take over.” He extended his hand in greeting.

  His hand stayed hanging in the almost visibly tense air.

  The chief inspector took the card and eyed it suspiciously. “Superintendent Yossi Luria,” he mumbled to himself and returned the card to its owner. “What do you mean by ‘take over’? This area is under my direct responsibility. With all due respect, Superintendent, the fact that you claim to take over, does not impress me.”

  Luria stifled a groan. The ninety minutes it took to arrive from Haifa to Ben Shemen were obviously not long enough for the wheels of bureaucracy to turn. “I have no intention to challenge your authority, Chief Inspector…”

  “Maimon, Chief Inspector David Maimon.”

  "I have no intention to challenge your authority, Chief Inspector Maimon, but this is a special investigation by order of the Chief of Police, and I was instructed to take over. Please check and verify this with your station.”

  Maimon wanted to say something but thought better of it. He turned around and walked toward his patrol car. After a few minutes, he came back, frowning. “OK, Superintendent, the scene is all yours. Good luck.” He signaled his men and turned his back to Luria.

  “Just a moment,” said Luria quietly but in an unmistakable commanding tone. Maimon stopped in his tracks and turned around to face him. “The fact that I am in command does not mean I do not require your services.” Maimon’s face became red. Danny thought the man was going to blow up, but he gradually calmed down.

  “Update, please,” said Luria casually but definitely in charge.

  Maimon spoke with an effort. “Sella, give the Superintendent a status report before we go, and make it a brief one.”

  One of the sergeants, a young and lively man, stepped forward. “Come with me, please.” He signaled Luria and Danny to follow him into the tape-bounded area. A foul smell of human waste dominated the air and all three instinctively raised their hands to cover their noses. “The body has been lying here for more than twenty four hours now,” explained Sella, pointing at a mass covered in a blanket, which lay next to a grey Mazda-3 sedan. “We received the call three hours ago. A group of schoolchildren on a road trip discovered the deserted car and the body.”

  Luria looked around. “A group in a bus, and a few cars.”

  “Yes.” Sella looked surprised. “It was a school class from Jerusalem. Don’t ask me why anybody would want to take kids on a trip here, in the middle of a rainstorm.”

  “Nature tour, I guess,” said Luria quietly, almost to himself. “It looks like they have done an extremely good job at wiping out every shred of evidence in the area.”

  “Definitely,” agreed Sella.

  “Have you established the cause of death?”

  “The doctor says a broken neck. He was attacked.”

  “Attacked with an instrument?”

  “No, the doctor thinks somebody killed him with his bare hands.”

  “Are there any other marks of violence on the body?”

  “The neck is bruised,” said Sella. “The doctor said he was strangled. The attacker pressed so hard as to have broken his neck. It must have been someone with exceptional physical strength.”

  “Have you identified the victim?”

  “Yes,” replied Sella. “This was not too difficult. He carried a wallet on his body. His name was Shlomo Illuz.”

  Luria and Danny exchanged glances.

  “By the way,” added Sella, “he had more than a thousand shekels in his wallet, and they were left untouched. This was no ordinary heist.”

  "Let us take a look at him,” said Luria. They approached the motionless body and Sella removed the blanket. The dead man was about forty five, with thinning hair. He lay on his back with the right side of his unshaven face turned up. The body was stiff, having succumbed to Rigor Mortis. Through the mud patches, it was possible to see the skin which started turning grayish white. They took their time looking at his face.

  “It’s him all right,” said Danny and Luria nodded.

  “Do you know him?” asked Sella.

  “Yes,” answered Danny, “he is a known character in Haifa; a small-time crook, in and out of jail ever since he was eighteen, mostly for breaking and entering, with a reputation that no door or window can stop him. Not a huge loss to the community, I would say.”

  “What’s going on, Sella.” Maimon sounded impatient.

  “Have you found anything which could be used as evidence? Any clue whatsoever?” inquired Luria, ignoring the background noise.

  “Forensics made an effort,” said Sella, “but with the scene in such a mess, I doubt if we can learn much. The murder took place outside the car. With the rain pouring before and after the event and with those damned hikers walking all over the place, it looks like a circus ring right after the elephant show.”

  “Was anybody sitting next to him in the car?”

  “Follow me.” Sella turned towards the car with the two detectives following. He opened the door opposite the driver’s. “There you go.” He pointed at the perfectly clean rubber mat on the floor and then to the driver’s mat, which was smeared with mud. “It is easy to see there was no one in the car with the driver.”

  “I see,” said Luria. “So the murderer must have arrived and left in another car.”

  “I guess so,” agreed Sella. “But the weather and the elephant herd which moved through this place badly restrict our ability to identify the marks of a second car.”

  “Weapons?”

  “He had a gun and a switchblade in his pocket.”

  Luria and Danny looked at each other. “We’ll need to run a check on the gun,” said Luria. “What about a mobile phone?”

  “We have found one on the body. The rain and mud have rendered it useless. We have the SIM card though.”

  “Sella!” Maimon’s patience was now completely gone.

  But now Luria’s patience was gone, too, and he turned around sharply. “Chief Inspector Maimon!” he called aloud. “Will you please step over here for a moment?”

  Maimon approached. “Are you done?” he asked testily.

  “For the moment, yes,” s
aid Luria. “I have seen everything I needed to see here. I request that you keep on the excellent work you have been doing. I would like you to compare all the tire marks in the area with the cars of the tourists who have roamed around here. Try to isolate those marks which do not belong to them or to the Mazda.”

  “Thank you very much,” retorted Maimon. “It was so good of you to show up. Otherwise, we would have had no idea how to do our job.”

  “Excellent,” said Luria. “Then you know what to do. I am always glad to have professionals under my command. I want you to try to locate the other vehicle which must have been here early yesterday morning.”

  Maimon grimaced. “I thought this was no longer my investigation.”

  Luria smiled pleasantly “Well it is, Chief Inspector. The only change is that you are now working for me. Your job is to organize the findings, forensics included, which you will forward to me in a detailed, classified report to Haifa Station. I’ll also want to see a list of calls to and from the deceased’s mobile phone during the past month. After that, you will forget all about this case and go on with your pleasant routine life. I’ll be expecting your full report by 16:00 tomorrow.”

  Maimon got red in the face, and Danny anticipated a thunderstorm.

  “Unless, of course, I have more requests or questions for you,” Luria added sweetly.

  “Who the hell do you think you…” Maimon was starting to boil, but Luria raised his hand.

  “Chief Inspector Maimon,” he said, “I think I have been extremely patient with you so far. If you have any problems whatsoever with my requests, you are welcome to check with your chief.” He paused for a second. “And, by the way, if you regain your senses and start collaborating, I promise not to report the atmosphere of non-cooperation that you have been so effectively promoting. I think we had better save your chief the need to provide explanations to the Chief of Police.”

  Maimon’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak up but reconsidered. He said nothing but forgot to close his mouth, which made him look quite ludicrous. Luria turned to the sergeant, who was standing there awkwardly, embarrassed by the whole scene. “Thank you very much for your cooperation, Sergeant Sella. You have been a great help to us.”

  He signaled Danny and they both walked to their car. Danny started it and drove back on the path leading to the main road. In the mirror, he could see Chief Inspector Maimon staring at them until he disappeared around a bend.

  Danny shook his head. “What a character.”

  “Well, he is not that bad,” said Luria. “I believe he is a good man, who knows his job. You would have been furious too, had somebody appeared out of nowhere to grab your case from you.” They continued traveling silently. The rain outside started again, and the wipers struggled bravely with the huge sheets of water pouring on the windshield.

  Luria broke the silence. “What do you think our next step should be?”

  “Obviously, we need to find Illuz’s murderer. We may have a problem salvaging something from the chaos on the scene. Nevertheless, now that we can assume that Illuz was the Stella Maris murderer, we have a major lead.”

  Luria nodded his agreement.

  “We knew Illuz well,” Danny went on. “He is a small fish, usually working for his patron, Ze’ev Srur. I bet Srur knows something about this.”

  “I concur,” said Luria. “I would first like to see the output of Illuz’s mobile phone calls. However, a major piece of information is missing. We still have no idea what was stolen from the monastery. I want you to go back there tomorrow morning and find anything you can about Father Fernando. Try to understand what he was doing in the library in the middle of the night. Identify who his friends were. Find out whether he had any special interests, or any other details that may help. I’ll be paying a visit to our friend, Ze’ev Srur.

  * * *

  When he arrived home that night, it was very late. Luria showered quickly and wriggled his way into his side of the bed, trying not to wake up Ella.

  “Yossi?” She was one of the few people on the planet who used his first name.

  “Yes, Ella. Sorry for waking you up.”

  She turned toward him, pressing teasingly against his body. “I missed you,” she whispered, half asleep. “Is everything OK?”

  “Yes, if you can say that about a homicide investigation. How was your exam?”

  “It was fine,” she answered, glad that he remembered. Then, suddenly, she was wide awake. “Listen, this murder case you are investigating was the talk of the day at the university.”

  “How come?”

  “The dead monk, Father Fernando Diaz, was a doctor of history who taught at the university. Guess who his doctoral student was.”

  “How would I know?”

  “Dr. Yuval Eldad.”

  “Your Dr. Eldad?”

  “Well, he is not really mine. I am just a teaching assistant of his. But if you are on that track, I’ll grant you he is cute, even sexy in his geeky way.” Ella never missed an opportunity to tease him.

  “So Eldad must have known him well. Did they keep in touch?”

  “I think so. Yuval was a total wreck today. He asked me to take over one of his lectures and disappeared early. I think he took this quite hard.”

  “I must talk to him ASAP. Can you fix me a meeting?”

  “I’ll consider it,” said Ella, wrapping her right leg around his body. "First, you must fix me a meeting with Superintendent Yossi Luria tonight, and then we shall see.”

  24. Brother Pedro – Stella Maris, Haifa, January 18th, 2006 (Wednesday)

  “I am Brother Pedro,” said the young monk in the brown habit. “Father Rafael does not feel well today. Unfortunately, you will not be able to see him.” He spoke good English with a foreign accent.

  “I remember you from that night,” said Danny. “I am here to complete a few details for our investigation. Perhaps you can help me.”

  “I am not sure I am allowed to discuss this with you.” Danny felt the hesitation in the young man’s voice. “We usually leave the communication with the outside to Father Rafael.”

  Danny tried the informal approach. “This is not official. I only need to fill in a few details. Whenever you feel you cannot answer, just say so, and I’ll understand.”

  Brother Pedro was silent and looked confused. Danny hurried to put his foot in the small crack that opened up for him. “Did you know Father Fernando?”

  “Father Fernando was my best friend here,” replied Pedro immediately without thinking.

  “But he was many years your senior.”

  The monk looked surprised. “What has age got to do with it? Father Fernando was a saint. He welcomed me here when I arrived from Brazil three years ago. He took care of me like a father, guided me in holy studies and also opened a window for me to worlds I never knew existed.”

  “Really?” Danny displayed interest. “What type of worlds?”

  “All men of the church I knew before him were good Christians. But Father Fernando was interested in much more than the Holy Scriptures…” He paused for a moment. “Don’t get me wrong. He knew the Scriptures better than anybody I had met, but he also had fascinating ideas about the links between Judaism and Christianity, ideas you don’t usually hear in the Catholic Church… he believed there was holiness in everything. Nature and science captured his imagination. However, most of all he was interested in history, mainly the history of the ancient land of Israel and the birth of Christianity. He had full command of ten languages, including Latin, Hebrew, Arabic and Aramaic. He had a Ph.D. in history from Oxford.”

  “Is that so?” Danny was genuinely impressed. “Is it common for monks to go to universities?”

  “Well, it is done,” said Brother Pedro, “but they usually pursue religious studies and theology. Father Fernando was not an ordinary monk. Apart from the church, early Christian and Jewish history were his life. He once told me that he had joined the Carmelites in order to come here. He fulfill
ed a dream by serving in the Holy Land.”

  “Was he in touch with academic life here?”

  “Sure. He published articles once in a while, taught courses for post graduate students at the University of Haifa. He even guided one of the students through his doctoral thesis.”

  “Do you happen to know the name of that student?”

  Brother Pedro shook his head. “It was before I came here.”

  He closed his eyes. Danny waited.

  When the monk opened his eyes again they had a misty look about them. “Father Fernando was a saint and a genius combined in one man. And this great man treated me as an equal and a friend. I was his friend, but I was not his equal. In the beginning, I could not believe he had real interest in me… but he was like that, not a trace of condescension about him. He was a good soul who only wanted to give. He taught me almost everything I know.” He stopped to wipe a tear from his eye. “This thirst for knowledge… is what killed him.”

  Danny froze. “Why do you say that?”

  “What do you think he was doing in the library in the middle of the night? These were his favorite hours for studying and writing. He usually slept less than four hours a night and even less during the past few months…”

  Danny was alerted. “Was there any specific subject he has been investigating lately?”

  Pedro was silent.

  “Do you know about any specific documents he was studying?” Danny kept pressing on.

  “What do you mean?” A note of suspicion crept into Brother Pedro’s voice.

  “We have not been able to find near the… body, any book or notebook, and I wondered…” Danny immediately realized his mistake.

  Brother Pedro’s expression changed and Danny thought he saw fear there. The monk obviously had let himself be carried away by his memories and was led into exposing his feelings about his dead mentor. But now he was back in reality. Danny wanted to slap himself for being so careless.

 

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