by Katz, Yoram
Luria snapped. Somehow, the pressure of the last few days went to his head. He started banging his fist against the glass door. “Then ask him to make himself available!” he yelled.
This certainly made an impression on Ronit. She exchanged a few more words over the phone and pressed the buzzer. Luria pushed the door and stepped in. “Thanks,” he blurted out to the alarmed secretary and made his way to Srur’s office.
“Just a moment,” he heard her calling after him, “you cannot…” but he was already inside the office, closing the door behind him. Srur was talking over the phone. “He is in my office now,” he said. “I am hanging up.” He rose from his chair, his face red. “What do you think you are doing?”
“We need to talk, Mr. Srur,” said Luria, rolling the ‘Mr.’ on his tongue, so that it sounded like an insult.
“Who are you, anyway?” snorted Srur. “Who the hell do you think you are, bursting into my office like this?”
“This is not going to work this time, Srur. You will not get rid of me so easily. I have a few questions regarding your conversations with Shlomo Illuz during the week before the murder; quite a few questions.”
“Have you been listening to my phone calls?”
“No, not yet, but I have the list of Illuz’s calls during the last month.”
“I told you all I knew about Shlomo Illuz.”
“Fine; nevertheless, I would like to discuss him with you.”
“I am warning you,” said Srur menacingly. “You are playing with fire. This is going to blow up in your face.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I am just telling you that if you keep pushing me, you are going to take a painful fall. My lawyer will eat you alive for breakfast.”
“Can we just sit down and talk like civilized human beings?”
“Civilized indeed!” exploded Srur. “I am not talking to you.”
“Do you prefer having this conversation at the station?”
“Sorry?”
“Do you prefer having this conversation at the station? Like you once used to?”
“Are you going to arrest me?” Srur was more surprised than enraged. “Do you have a warrant?”
“I am not arresting you,” said Luria. “You are a suspect and I can detain you for questioning.”
“A suspect? Suspected of what?”
“Conspiracy to commit a crime, aiding and abetting a murder, disruption of police investigation,” said Luria. “Have I missed something?”
“You are crazy, completely out of your mind.”
“I request that you talk to me here or join me at the police station.”
Srur stood up, his face burning. “OK, Superintendent, I’ll come with you. I am a law-abiding citizen. But you are going to pay, and this is a promise.”
“If you want to add ‘intimidating a police officer on duty’ to the list, that’s fine with me.”
Srur did not answer. The two walked out of the office. “Tell Porat I have gone to the police station and ask him to meet me there,” said Srur to the secretary. “Tell him I am being detained by the superintendent,” he added with a sneer.
* * *
“He is waiting for you,” said Anat, avoiding Luria’s eyes.
Luria opened the door and entered Chief Superintendent Arnon’s office. Arnon was reading a document and did not raise his head to look at him. “Sit down, Superintendent,” he commanded.
It was all too official and did not bode well. Luria sat down and waited. Arnon finished reading and raised his head.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he said, fighting to restrain himself. Luria opened his mouth to speak, but Arnon raised his hand. “That was a rhetorical question. When I want you to speak, I’ll tell you. Now listen.”
Luria was stunned. He had never seen Arnon so angry, not with him, anyway.
“Just two days ago you sat in this very chair you are occupying now. I explained to you the sensitivity of this case. I especially emphasized the importance of keeping a low profile, didn’t I?”
Luria nodded.
“I thought we understood each other, and yet what do you do? You go wild like a bull in a china shop. What is this obsession with Srur? Please explain to me. What the hell were you trying to do?”
“Illuz was working for Srur. I am sure of it.”
“He is sure…” said Arnon to the ceiling. “This is unprofessional. Srur is an intelligence target of the police and what do you do? Drag him out of the closet and make him aware that he is in our sights. How is this supposed to help Israeli Police’s war on organized crime?”
Luria tried to open his mouth but Arnon silenced him with an angry gesture. “Now I have to deal with this sleek lawyer of his, Porat, whose mouth I just barely managed to keep shut. Otherwise, it would have made headlines in all the papers, and the media would be running another of their ‘police brutality’ stories. Is this your idea of a low profile?”
Luria tried to speak up, but Arnon ignored him. “The Chief of Police and the Haifa Station Chief require that I explain what’s been happening here under my nose. What can I tell them? Should I tell them that I have a detective who is waging a private war behind my back and against my explicit directions? I do not look very good in this story, Luria; actually, I look exceptionally bad. It looks like I am not in control, that I have no idea of what my men are doing.” He took a deep breath. “In fact, this is the plain truth. I don’t know what you are doing, because you never bother to tell me. The only thing I know for sure is that you consistently disobey my orders.”
“Disobey your orders?”
“Sure you do. And don’t give me your innocent act. I asked you to work alone on this case and what do you do? Have Inspector Danny Raviv all over the place.” Arnon raised one finger on his left hand, counting.
“But I told you I needed at least an assistant…”
“Arnon raised his right hand to silence him. “I asked for a daily report. I never got one.” Arnon raised a second finger.
“But…”
“I asked to be informed about any progress in this case. I required that you discuss with me moves you were planning. You did nothing of the sort. Had you done that, I would have spared you this Srur fiasco.” Three fingers were up already. “There is a standing order to get the chief’s approval or mine for any contact with Srur,” fourth finger.
“But chief, you were unavailable for days…”
“Luria, this is not one of those regular cases. It is true that sometimes I go along with your whims, even after the fact… but this time you have crossed a red line.”
Luria looked into the eyes of his superior. The fury he saw there before was now changing into something else; sadness?”
“Please understand, Luria, this has gone way above my head.” Arnon was calmer now. “I have to suspend you. You are off this case starting now.”
“I don’t understand.” Luria could not believe it. “Off the case? But I am on the right track!”
“You do not understand and you are nowhere near the right track. I am not suspending you just from this case. I am suspending you, period. You are on a forced leave as of this minute.”
Luria did not want to believe this. “Ehud, please don’t do this to me,” he pleaded. “I admit I was carried away a bit, but I am going to bring you results, like I always do. Have faith in me.”
“You still do not understand.” Luria could now clearly hear sorrow in the chief’s voice. “This is beyond me now. You are going home for the time being. Let’s wait two or three weeks and then see what I can do.”
Luria felt dizzy. He did not remember rising from the chair. His feet carried him to the door, and he opened it. “I am sorry, Luria,” he thought he heard Arnon’s voice behind him.
He left the door open and stumbled out of Arnon’s office, numbed. In the fog that surrounded him, he vaguely saw Anat, the secretary, looking at him worriedly.
She said something, but he did
not hear a word.
28. New Findings – February 3rd, 2010 (Wednesday)
Luria was on his way to the office when his car phone rang. “What’s up Aryeh?” Following the latest developments, Luria asked his cousin to probe his sources for a clue as to what Pascal de Charney might have discovered in Safed.
“I found something,” Aryeh sounded restrained but Luria could feel his excitement.
“I am listening.”
“I went through some of the journals in my friend’s archives. If you remember, after the occupation of Safed by General Murrat, he left a small garrison there under one, Captain Simon.”
“I remember,” said Luria. “This was the garrison de Charney joined.”
“That’s right. And then there was an attempt by the Turks to retake the place. The French, if you recall, retreated into the fort and let the Turks occupy the town for a short while.”
“Yes,” said Luria. “De Charney mentioned in his letter that Rivka and her adopted family had enjoyed his protection at the time.”
“Correct. Well, I found a reference in one of the journals in the archive to the damage caused by the Turks before they were driven away. There is a short and somewhat enigmatic allusion to something which might fit in with de Charney’s story.”
“What does it say?”
“Listen to the following excerpt,” said Aryeh. “…The Turks broke into town, massacred many, desecrated synagogues and scriptures and destroyed property. In the synagogue of the Holy Ari and Elijah, ‘Or Haganuz’ was lost.”
“Or Haganuz?”
“This is a Kabbalistic term that refers to the light of the seven days of Creation.”
“And where is this synagogue of the Holy Ari and Elijah?”
“There are two synagogues in Safed, which carry the name of the Holy Ari. This probably refers to the Sephardic synagogue of the Ari, considered to be the oldest synagogue in Safed. It was built in the beginning of the 16th century as a synagogue for North African Jews, and was named after the prophet Elijah. It was the Ari’s favorite synagogue. He prayed there and used to occupy a small chamber in the eastern side of the synagogue, studying the secrets of Kabbalah. Tradition has it that on that spot, the prophet Elijah revealed himself to him. Most of the place was destroyed in earthquakes, which devastated Safed in 1759 and then in 1837, but it was always rebuilt.”
“Do you have any idea what ‘Or Haganuz’ could mean in this context?”
“Hard to say…” Aryeh contemplated this. “If I had to guess I would say some sacred script, perhaps an old Torah scroll or, considering this was the Ari’s favorite workplace, some Kabbalistic writings associated with him.”
“A script written by the Ari?”
“Well, the Holy Ari never wrote a thing. His teachings were recorded by his followers, mostly after his death.”
“So,” summarized Luria, “a sacred document was lost. I wonder why an old Torah scroll or a Kabbalistic script would mean so much to de Charney, but we will probably not know that until we find out what it was.”
“Do you really believe you will find it?” Luria heard the skepticism in his cousin’s voice.
“I don’t know, Aryeh. Thanks, anyway. I appreciate it very much. I’ll be in touch. Bye.”
“Bye, Yossi.”
Luria went over this new piece of data in his head. It was a confirmation that Pascal de Charney’s scrolls were very valuable to the Jews of Safed, a fact already acknowledged by de Charney himself, but now Kabbalah was added to the equation. He navigated his way into a parking place and cut the engine, calculating his next move.
* * *
“Good morning, Luria,” welcomed him Noga. “Eitan is looking for you.”
Luria, still lost in thought, nodded and headed toward Eitan’s office. Eitan was sitting behind his desk studying a document. He raised his head when Luria entered.
“Good morning, Luria. I was looking for you. I wanted to brief you on the Porat case.”
“I am listening.”
“I checked the list of calls you gave me. I also looked at Porat’s calls since the day his wife flew to London.”
“Did you find the guy in the cellular company cooperative?”
“Yes, but his fees are exorbitant.”
Luria waved his hand dismissively. “He is worth every shekel. You must remember he is taking a huge personal risk.”
“Anyway,” Eitan went on, “the number of incoming calls this guy receives is huge. I had to use some intuition to filter out irrelevant calls and, of course, I needed some luck.”
“And…”
“On the very day Porat’s wife left, he received a few long calls from a fixed-line number. I went on a hunch and traced the number and the woman behind it. I crossed some information and found out she was calling him from her cell phone as well. I then managed to enter her place and bug the fixed line. I now have recordings.”
“And what have you got there?”
“Everything you could ask for. Your gut feeling was right. Porat did not want to meet her, but she became a nuisance. He tried to calm her down and keep the calls short, but she became very upset. She mentioned intimate stuff, and he tried to explain why they must not see each other for a while. She, of course, blamed him for trying to evade her and for messing with other women. After a few days, she became almost hysterical, and he had to set a meeting with her in a hotel.”
“And you have pictures?”
“Sure.”
“Were there more women?”
“There were also calls from the woman you have already traced.”
“Good,” Luria rubbed his hands in delight. “This will do for now.”
“What are you going to do about Porat?”
“I have not decided yet, but I am certainly not going to bow to his or anybody’s pressure. I need everything I can get on him. I want this stuff.”
“Here it is,” said Eitan. He slid an envelope across the desk towards Luria.
Luria opened it and retrieved a DVD and some printed stills. Eitan watched him closely, waiting for his reaction. Luria examined the first picture and suddenly sat up in his chair, startled.
He bent forward again, moved to the next picture and flipped to see another one. He then raised his head and looked at Eitan.
“This is… is she who I think she is?”
Eitan nodded. “Yes. This is heady stuff.”
“This is pure dynamite!” Luria was overwhelmed. “I am speechless.”
Eitan hesitated. “If I were you, I would give it another thought before using it, if at all,” he remarked.
Luria thought a moment. “Do you have copies of this material?”
“Of course.”
“Please destroy everything you have and forget you ever saw it. I will keep the only copy with me.”
29. Stella Maris – February 8th, 2010 (Monday)
They were sitting inside the car in the parking lot near the Stella Maris monastery. After the meeting with Eldad, Luria told Jeanne what had happened at the monastery four years before, and she insisted on going there.
“So you believe that the Stella Maris murderer was after Pascal de Charney’s documents.” She repeated for the tenth time.
“Well,” said Luria, “nobody ever admitted that anything had been stolen in the first place. The monastery’s Abbot explicitly denied it.”
“But you believe that this is what happened.”
“Yes. At the time, I was sure something had been taken, and I knew the monks were covering up for it. It fits in well with what we know today.”
“They must have had a good reason for not talking then,” reasoned Jeanne. “They did not cooperate with the police when Father Diaz was murdered. Why would they cooperate with me now?”
“You are right. They probably won’t.”
“So what are we doing here?”
Luria suppressed a sigh; women… “It was you who insisted on coming here,” he reminded her patiently. “I said that
the chances of obtaining meaningful information were slim, but you wanted to do it, and this is fine with me. And who knows? You may strike gold after all.”
“But you do not really believe it.”
Luria started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” snapped Jeanne.
“It is just that you are so much like Ella… Our conversation reminded me of her.”
“Then you don’t believe they will cooperate.”
“Not really, but it may be a good idea to shake the tree a bit. A few apples may fall.”
Jeanne gave him a searching look, and then smiled. “You must think I am behaving like a child, but I don’t care.” She kissed him on the cheek, and Luria gloomily noted to himself that this was a kiss of a cousin, not a lover.
As they had agreed, she left the car alone and proceeded to the monastery. She walked into the external yard just outside the church, and Luria saw her stop next to a monument surrounded by four tall palm trees. It was a small pyramid with a metal cross on top. Jeanne knelt down, removed her sunglasses and read the inscription on the metal plaque. It was a commemoration for Napoleon’s soldiers and the monks who died in and around the monastery in 1799. She then rose, walked through the open church door and disappeared inside. Luria looked at his watch. There was still time before the scheduled meeting, and she had told him in advance that she planned to pray in the monastery’s church.
Fifteen minutes later, he saw her coming out of the church. She glanced at his direction, making sure he was still there, and made her way to the big iron gate at the entrance of the monastery’s closed area. She rang the bell and said something into the intercom. A few minutes later, a monk appeared on the other side of the gate. He was clad in a brown habit and his head was covered by his cowl.
“Ms. de Charney?”
“Yes.”
The monk opened the gate. “I am Brother Pedro,” he spoke English with a Portuguese accent. “Please come in. Father Mazzini is expecting you.”
He closed the gate behind her, and the two strode along the monastery wall. Next to the monastery entrance stood a marble statue of the Madonna, and Jeanne made the sign of the cross. Luria, observing from the other side of the road, saw them disappear inside the monastery.
