The Kabbalist

by Katz, Yoram

  Srur was surprised but managed to hide it. “Is that so?” he said calmly. “Then what is it that you wanted to discuss with me, Mr. Visconti? Or is Visconti your real name?”

  The man ignored the insinuation. “Mr. Srur, I arrived in Israel last night, and I am in quite a hurry, so I would like to get straight to the point. I need to recover an artifact which was for a short while in the hands of a man by the name of Shlomo Illuz,” his eyes scanned Srur’s face but Srur showed no noticeable response. “I believe you knew the late Mr. Illuz.”

  “I have no clue as to what you are talking about.” Srur was seething inside but managed to keep a tranquil exterior. “Who the hell are you, Mr. Visconti?” he added ominously.

  The man smiled. “Do not worry, Mr. Srur, I am not a policeman, and I am not here to frame or hurt you. I represent people who are interested in this artifact I have mentioned, and are willing to pay for it handsomely, with no questions asked. So, you see, I am here to do business with you, after all, and a much more lucrative one than liquor trading.”

  Srur was thinking fast. First the cop and now this clown… what the hell has he gotten himself into? What a dreadful mess! He cursed the moment he had stepped into this quagmire. But Illuz was dead now, and nobody had anything on him.

  And that is how it should remain.

  “Mr. Visconti, or whatever your name is,” he said gravely, “you must be mistaken. You have come to the wrong man. As far as I am concerned, you have lied your way into meeting me, and now you are making insinuations which I do not appreciate. I am a businessman, Mr. Visconti, and I regret to say that I do not see any business prospects with you.”

  “Just a minute, Mr. Srur.” The man did not lose his composure but his eyes bore harshly into his host’s. “As I said, my people will pay very handsomely for this artifact or even for information regarding its whereabouts. On the other hand, I must tell you, they are not the kind of people who take no for an answer.”

  He sure pressed the wrong button. Srur was never tolerant of threats, and he already had enough for one day. “Mr. whoever you are,” he said in a voice trembling with rage, “obviously, you have a problem understanding complex statements. Let me try to put it to you very simply: I do not like you. I do not appreciate your threats and insinuations. I want you out of here. Am I clear enough, Mr. Visconti?”

  The visitor was taken aback. “Please Mr. Srur; I think you have misunderstood me…”

  “Perhaps,” Srur now rose from his seat, “but let me tell you, Mr. Visconti, this is no way to do business with Ze’ev Srur. This meeting is over. I wish you success with your enterprise, whatever it may be. Let me assure you that you have come to the wrong address. I will not report you to the police, although I have a feeling they may take an interest in your case. Do not come here again. Just leave now, please.”

  The Italian opened his mouth to answer but thought better of it. He rose and found his way to the door. Srur was already on the phone, talking.

  By the time the frustrated Visconti entered his car, he was already being followed.

  26. Yuval Eldad – University of Haifa, January 18th, 2006 (Wednesday)

  Luria stormed into his office. He put the paper coffee cup on his desk and dropped into his chair, opening the bag of falafel he had bought on his way and scattering salad and tahini all over the desk.

  Did Srur know more than he cared to tell? Luria thought he did. He was furious with himself at the way he had handled the conversation, but was comforted by the thought that this had just been the first round. He wondered how he should handle that thug. Should he summon him to the station for interrogation? Luria needed someone to talk to. He wanted to discuss this with his chief and, anyway, Arnon explicitly asked to be kept in the picture. He picked up the phone and called Arnon’s office.

  “How are you Anat?”

  “Fine, thank you Luria. How are you?”

  “OK, thanks. Is Arnon in?”

  “No. He is in Jerusalem. He has meetings all day. I don’t think he’ll be back in the office today, but you can come and visit me if you wish…”

  “Well, Anat, if I didn’t have a girlfriend…”

  Anat laughed. “You are the loyal type, Luria. You are too good for me. Bye kid.”

  Luria put the receiver down and took a full bite from his falafel.

  What next?

  He almost choked when the door burst open, and Danny charged into his office. “What’s wrong with you?” He fumed after his coughing fit had subsided a bit. “You almost killed me. You keep doing this all the time! Didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock on doors?"

  “Sorry,” said Danny humbly.

  “Any news? What did you learn at the monastery?”

  “Father Rafael was not well today. I had a conversation with Brother Pedro.”

  “Brother Pedro?”

  “The guy who stayed that night to watch over us, remember?”

  Luria remembered.

  “Father Fernando was a sort of mentor to Pedro. He became Pedro’s patron when he arrived at the monastery and helped him adjust. Pedro knew him very well. He thinks he knows what Father Fernando was doing in the library that night.”

  “Don’t tell me he was studying history.”

  Danny opened his mouth to continue, but then he comprehended what Luria had just said. “What the he… how did you know?”

  “I’ll explain later. Please go on.” Luria gestured him with his hand to continue.

  Danny looked at him bewildered, searching for words. “Father Fernando was a historian. He had a Ph.D. from Oxford and was a part-time lecturer at the Haifa University. Pedro thinks he was doing some historical research at the time he was murdered.”

  “Does he have an idea what the subject of this research might have been?”

  “Pedro felt uneasy talking to me alone. When I asked him this question he shut up altogether.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “Well, Father Fernando taught at the Haifa University. He even guided a student through his Ph.D. thesis a few years ago. There must be people at the university who knew him and may provide us with information.”

  “Did he tell you who this doctoral student was?”

  “He did not know, but this should not be too difficult to find out.”

  “Don’t bother. His name is Dr. Yuval Eldad and we shall meet him in…” he glimpsed at his watch, “one hour and ten minutes.”

  Danny dropped into a chair with a loud bang. “Beats me how you do this.”

  Luria laughed. “Relax Danny. It so happens that my girlfriend is Dr. Eldad’s teaching assistant at the university. I heard this story from her last night, and I asked her to set us an informal meeting with him.”

  “So why didn’t you tell me this in the morning? Why did you send me, if you knew everything?”

  “I did not know everything, and I did not want to indoctrinate you. I wanted to see what you would come up with,” said Luria.

  “In short, you were testing me.”

  “Stop this nonsense, Danny. You came up with better results than I had with Srur. Let me fill you in, and then we’ll go and take a history lesson from Dr. Eldad.”

  * * *

  “Come in,” called a voice from inside the room, after the third time Luria had knocked at the door. Professor Yuval Eldad’s office at the university was a small room that looked as if it had undergone a vigorous search by an extremely nervous team of police investigators. Books, notes and documents occupied almost every spot in the room. The professor himself was seated behind a desk at the far side of the room with an open laptop in front of him. He raised his head to see who was coming and then rose to shake their hands. “Yuval Eldad,” he introduced himself. “So you are Ella’s famous Yossi.”

  “Yes, but she is almost the only one who uses this name. Everybody calls me Luria. This is my assistant, Inspector Danny Raviv.”

  Eldad shook Danny’s hand, but his eyes were fixed on Luria. “Luria…” he ro
lled the name on his tongue. “There is a Luria I knew back in the days I was a student, and you remind me very much of him.”

  Luria smiled in embarrassment.

  “His name was Aryeh Luria,” said Eldad. “He was from Safed. Could he be a relative of yours?”

  Luria was surprised. “Aryeh Luria from Safed? I have a cousin by that name, but he is a Hassidic Jew.”

  “That’s him.” Eldad was now really excited. “He was not like that when we started university together, but he’s the one. What a coincidence! I get to meet him once in a while at conferences. He still has a strong interest in history, especially the history of the Land of Israel. He is a good man, who could have developed into a fine researcher. Give him my regards.”

  “I will gladly do so,” replied Luria, still surprised.

  Eldad brought him back to the ground. “Ella told me you were investigating the Stella Maris murder case.”

  “Yes, and I understand that you knew the victim, Dr. Fernando Diaz.”

  “Dr. Diaz guided me through my doctoral thesis. It was a very rewarding relationship for me. He had knowledge and historical perception, and was a man of exceptional qualities.”

  “What was your thesis about?” inquired Luria.

  “‘Interrelationships among the Christian Orders of the Crusades’,” answered Eldad. “Many Christian orders emerged during the crusades, and their influence is still evident today. There were the orders of the soldier-monks like the Templars, the Knights Hospitaller and the Teutonic Knights. There were orders of asceticism and recluses like the Carmelites which exist to this very day.”

  “I see,” said Luria. “Dr. Diaz, or Father Fernando, was a Carmelite.”

  “Correct,” said Eldad. “And his knowledge of Christianity was vast. His understanding and analytic skills were on par with those of the most famous and world-renowned researchers in this field like the Professors Bennet and Orlev of the Hebrew University. He was not as well-known as they are, because he was first and foremost a Carmelite monk, whose life was dedicated to the Church. His articles were brilliant but he rarely published, and in the academic world, you do not really exist if you do not publish. Yet, I read two of his works and chose him as my guide. Friends warned me that having an unknown professor as a guide is not the best way of launching an academic career, but I insisted on him. With his help, I can say in all modesty, I came up with an excellent thesis. I still get invitations to lecture about it at important conferences all over the world.”

  “Is he… was he still lecturing at the university this year?”

  “He used to teach a course for post graduate students. He quit two years ago, and since then we have not met so often.”

  “Why did he quit?”

  “I am not sure. His courses never attracted many students, but this was not the reason. Everybody in the faculty valued him, and he felt quite at home here.”

  “Did you ask him why he was retiring?”

  “Yes. I remember discussing it with him two years ago. I asked him to stay.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He said he might still return some day but that, for the time being, he preferred concentrating on research. I said this was exactly what academics in universities do. However, he claimed that his library at the monastery had much of what he needed, and that he could use the university library anyway. He just did not have the time to teach anymore.”

  “So he was simply fed up with teaching?”

  “I don’t think so. He really liked teaching. Perhaps his chores at the monastery did not leave him enough time… anyway, it seemed to work well for him. Later, whenever we met, he always looked as happy and vital as ever. I believe he was working on a new research.”

  “What type of research?”

  “I don’t know. I cannot even be sure that such research existed, but I know academics. He was absorbed in something which interested and challenged him. He had that glint in his eyes…”

  “When did you last see him?”

  “He was still invited to conferences and important lectures, and when these took place in Israel, he usually showed up, and we would get together. About a month ago, we met at such a conference at the Hebrew University. Professor Orlev and his colleague, Professor Bennet, gave a thrilling lecture about Judaism and Christianity in the first century AD. Dr. Diaz was very excited and after the lecture I saw him sitting with these two, and they had a long discussion. By the way, your cousin was there too.”

  Luria was surprised. “Aryeh? How is he related to these people?”

  “I told you that he showed up at conferences. He is very close to Professor Orlev, who is considered the world’s leading authority on Kabbalah and on the history of Judaism in the time of the Second Temple. I am surprised you did not know that.”

  Luria tried to keep the conversation focused. “Did you get to talk to Dr. Diaz on that occasion?”

  “Yes, and he sounded just great. I asked him how he was spending his free time, and he laughed, saying he had not a second to spare, with the work of God and historical research filling up his time. He said it was hard for him to comprehend how he had ever found the time to teach courses at the university. I asked him whether he planned to publish something in the near future.”

  “And…”

  “He said that knowledge itself is sometimes satisfying enough. He used to say this to me often when I was his student. Dr. Diaz never took part in the ‘Publish or Perish’ obsession of the academic world. That’s why he never achieved worldwide recognition.”

  “Anything else that you think we should know?”

  “That is all. That was the last time I saw him.

  * * *

  “What do you think?” asked Danny as they were driving back to town.

  “I am not sure,” said Luria. “Eldad confirmed that Dr. Diaz was working on something. He may have possessed a document or object that the burglar was after.”

  “There is, of course, a simpler explanation,” said Danny.

  Luria raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean, it could have been a breaking and entering job with no specific target. Somebody was looking for valuables, maybe precious ritual objects, and messed up.”

  “It is possible,” agreed Luria, “but improbable. A random burglar is not likely to enter a room so noticeably occupied.”

  “OK,” said Danny, “so what do we do next?”

  “We probe the hypothesis that Father Fernando was on to something, or possessed a special artifact or document. We might get some insight from talking to those two professors from Jerusalem Dr. Eldad mentioned. I will speak to my cousin Aryeh who, as I have just learned, happens to know these fine people.”

  He thought for a while. “There is also Ze’ev Srur. I am sure Illuz worked for him. If anybody knows what Illuz was up to in Stella Maris in the middle of the night, it is Ze’ev Srur, and I am going to apply some pressure to him.”

  * * *

  Luria called Aryeh later that evening.

  “Hello Yossi,” said the voice on the other side and Luria heard the weariness in his cousin’s voice.

  “I have been trying to get hold of you for hours,” said Luria. “Is everything OK?”

  “Not that great.” Aryeh sighed. “Someone I knew passed away, murdered actually. I am still in shock.”

  “You mean Dr. Diaz?”

  Aryeh was taken aback. “How did you know?”

  “I am a cop,” said Luria, “and I happen to be in charge of this case. I met Professor Eldad of the Haifa University today, and he told me about your connection to Diaz. By the way, he sends his regards.”

  “Thanks. I was not really that close to Professor Diaz. Professor Yeshayahu Orlev, who is a friend of mine, knew him very well.”

  “Yes, Eldad did mention Professor Orlev. How are you two related?”

  “History of Judaism and Kabbalah,” replied Aryeh. “I never completed my bachelor’s degree, but I am an autodidact and I attend conferen
ces occasionally. During one of these conferences, I heard a fascinating lecture by the professor and approached him afterwards to discuss it. We have remained in touch ever since. I research and provide him with information, and sometimes he discusses his work with me. It is a rare privilege.”

  “You have your special sources of historical information?”

  “I told you once that Safed is a fountainhead of information and knowledge.”

  “Eldad told me that he saw you sitting in a discussion with Diaz about a month ago.”

  “Yes,” acknowledged Aryeh. “I was at a conference in Jerusalem with Yeshayahu, and was present at a discussion he and Professor Bennet had with Dr. Diaz. I was merely a listener. With those three top guns talking, I had little to contribute to the conversation.”

  “What was Diaz talking about?”

  “He was excited by the lecture and wanted to discuss some details. He said he was conducting a private research that touched upon some of the issues that were discussed in the lecture. He sounded enthusiastic.”

  “What research?”

  “I think it had something to do with the history of early Christianity. Yeshayahu asked him if he was going to publish anytime soon, and Diaz was not clear about it.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “That is all I remember. I asked Yeshayahu about it later, and he said that Diaz was a brilliant historian but a bit too mysterious, and that normally, his researches never ended up with a paper to show for them. These academics can be nasty sometimes, you know.”

  “Can I talk to Orlev?” asked Luria.

  “Go ahead,” said Aryeh. “I can connect you two, but I doubt whether you will hear a different story from him.”

  27. Chief Superintendent Ehud Arnon – Haifa, January 19th, 2006 (Thursday)

  Luria pressed the intercom button.

  “Yes, please,” Ronit was looking at him through the glass door.

  “It’s me again,” he said to the microphone. “I would like to speak to Mr. Srur.”

  He watched her as she picked up the receiver and spoke a few words into it. She then put it down. “I am sorry. Mr. Srur is not available at the moment.”