by Dana Arama
Gabriella pulled a set of keys on a cheap metal ring out of her bag and prepared to open the door.
I stayed her hand and whispered, "You may want to knock first."
We both placed our ears to the door. From upstairs, we heard a shuffling sound and heavy coughing. I figured it was the smoking neighbor. From the neighboring apartments came voices of foreign language TV channels and a baby's cry. There seemed to be no noise from apartment number 9. It was encouraging, I knocked on the door. Nothing happened. Gabriella knocked hard with a clenched fist and immediately pulled away. Again, I put an ear to the door. We heard a train approaching, drowning out all the other sounds as it shook the building. I waited for it to pass, listened again and I motioned for her to open it.
We stood at the door. From her bag, she produced the flashlight I’d prepared well in advance. It lit up the empty walls and a large, square shape in the middle of the room. The apartment was nothing more than one room with a corner that used to be a kitchenette. Stretched in front of the kitchenette was a torn curtain which separated the room from the bathroom area that comprised a toilet, shower, and a small window for ventilation. The cubicle was smaller than any bathroom on any of the ships I served aboard. The dirty window seemed to be the only source of ventilation in the apartment. The dank smell was unbearable. We closed the door behind us and tried to turn on the light. To my surprise, the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling actually came on. We now saw that the object in the center of the room was a safe. The plastic chair next to it was simple. It was the only piece of furniture in the apartment. I remembered a conversation I heard in front of the office door in Savion, and I guessed that she was curious to know what was in it. Or maybe not? After all, who’s to say that the conversation I heard was real? Although this wasn’t another torture chamber, the safe might contain an unpleasant surprise for me.
"Do you have the code for the safe?" I went to examine it closely and added, "And a key? We need a key."
"I have. He left them with the bank."
I glanced at her. Although I was risking my life, it seemed to me that she still was holding out on me. Something in her tone told me that she’d prefer to be somewhere else. Or for me to be somewhere else.
"You want me to wait for you outside?" I asked politely.
"Yes. If you don’t mind." I couldn’t believe she’d rather stay here alone. "No problem. I'll be just outside the door." I went out into the relative darkness and waited. On the floor below, I heard a loud argument and a door slam. Footsteps running down the stairs. The train moved again, causing a nearby iron railing to jingle. It was only eight in the evening, but it felt much later. I was in a squatting position, waiting, when the door opened and a wave of light engulfed me.
"My hands are shaking. I can’t do it. Would you mind trying?” I studied her face. I wanted to see if she was trying to trap me or if she really was anxious and afraid.
I went back in and took from her the page on which the combination was written. With the other hand, I locked the door from the inside and went to the safe. I took a quick glance around. Nothing had changed. Did I expect to see a knife sheath? Perhaps a syringe wrapper? I gave her the paper. "Read the numbers to me," I said. "You know his handwriting."
I knelt and began to turn the black button gently according to the sequence she read to me in a trembling voice.
"I can’t hear you properly. Come round from behind me.” I still couldn’t trust her completely.
She came round to stand in front of me and raised her voice. On the last digit, I heard a click and pushed in the key and turned the iron handle. It responded. I started to open the heavy door and stopped. I watched her as she stood next to me. She bit her lip and looked like a concerned child.
"Shall I continue?"
"Yes. Don’t go now."
"There's a closed cylinder. I’m taking it out," I said after I looked inside. It wasn’t just a roll. It was a rolled leather package with a leather cord wrapped around it and was well tied. I grabbed it and picked it up. The roll was much lighter than it appeared. I found a letter under it. And that was it. Besides that, the safe matched the room. Completely empty.
She took the roll and pressed it against her chest. Without opening it, she whispered, "This is a package of diamonds."
"I'm sure you've seen plenty of them," I replied in a whisper. "Do you know what’s special about these diamonds?"
"Maybe the letter will explain it to me."
"Maybe. You want to make sure these really are diamonds?" Why we whispered, I’d no idea. This whole thing was mysterious. Now that I was no longer in imminent danger, I felt like the ghost of her husband was there.
"Yes. I should count them."
Again, I had a feeling of discomfort. With regard to the safe, we weren’t partners. "You want me to go out again?"
"Yes. Thank you."
Something in my face made her add, "Don’t be offended. Please. I want to count them and read it when I'm alone."
I hugged her and whispered in her ear, "I'm here for you and I'm not offended. Take your time. I'll snoop around a bit downstairs. I have my phone on me. Call me when you're done and we’ll go, okay?”
A smile of relief came over her face, telling me I’d chosen the right words. Before I left I added, "Don’t forget to lock the door behind me." Only when I heard the key turn did I go downstairs.
***
Opposite the entrance of the building, a little to the right, the street lamp was broken. I chose that dark spot as my observation post. I leaned against the wall and waited. My phone rang sooner than expected. I took it out of my pocket and I answered. "Should I come up?"
"Come up where?" Hadas' voice asked. At least, this time, her timing was better.
"You’re back?"
"Yes. I'm at the apartment and I'm sad without you."
"I can’t talk properly. I’m working."
"For you, it's never a good time for proper talking. I'm getting used to it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t still want you.”
She sounded really sad and it shattered me. I wanted to tell her that I missed her too, but I suddenly noticed a limo appearing. Henri’s limo. "I'll talk to you when I get back," I told Hadas, and hung up.
The limo had also attracted the attention of the boys standing about. My suspicion intensified. Was Henri the one helping her get me? Was there no limit to this hotel’s services? I half expected to receive a phone call from upstairs. Henri got out of the limo while speaking on the phone. From his hand gestures, I realized he was upset. Without looking right or left, he crossed the street. He was immediately followed by another man who got out of the limo’s front passenger seat. I saw them whispering a moment and Henri returned to the car. The second man entered the stairwell. Another of her potential partners…
By now, seven boys surrounded the limo. Their presence panicked Henri. He began to argue with them. While he was thus distracted, I ran back to the stairwell. The other man was on the floor above me. Without turning on the light, and without making any noise, I raced up quickly to the second floor, where I stopped to listen.
The kick that broke down the door startled Gabriella. I heard her scream, strong and clear. I gave up on quiet steps and pulled myself to the next floor via the rail. As I entered the room, she was putting her elbow in his stomach, and then, after a half turn, she punched his nose and stepped away. This was the moment I’d longed for. For this, we had sweated and practiced for hours. I burst into the room, filled with aggression brought on by a mix of adrenaline and testosterone. I grabbed the man and slammed his head forward. He hit the edge of the safe.
Chapter 19
I closed the door and leaned the plastic chair against the handle. The lock wouldn’t hold out even against a strong wind, but the chair would prevent anyone looking in.
I hugged Gabriella. "Did you see me push him away?" She was shaking and couldn’t stop. I think it was because of the sudden increase in the level of adrenaline in her blood.
"I saw it. Well done. I'm very proud of you. Now, we have to get out of here and get rid of the body."
I wanted to peek out of the closed window and check if Henri was still waiting for the attacker, but after opening it, I discovered that he was scouting round the back of the building. It wasn’t a complete disappointment. Now I saw how close we were to the rail tracks. The trains would be slightly kissing the building if the tracks weren’t ten meters lower. Now all that was left for me was to take the body and roll it over the wall fence onto the tracks. I hoped that by the time it was found, we’d already be back in Israel.
I climbed onto the bathroom windowsill and peered down. The hatch was in the right direction, and Henri’s limo was still waiting downstairs.
"His name is Evgeny." Beyond the curtain, I saw Gabriella was bent over the body, a wallet in one hand and his driver's license in the other. She returned the license to the wallet, which she examined further. "Look at that." She took out a very thick wad of bills. "Evgeny didn’t believe in credit cards."
"Excellent. That cash will help us a lot." This wasn’t the time to be high-minded.
"You take it. I always have cash on me." She handed me the bills and I put them in my pants pocket.
"We need to get rid of the identifying information. We'll throw it over the wall of the building onto the rail tracks and the wallet somewhere else. Maybe it’ll look like a robbery." After a pause for quick reflection, I added, "and take off his watch. A true robber wouldn’t leave that behind."
"What about our fingerprints?"
"The best thing would be to dip him in a barrel filled with acid," I explained quietly. "But we don’t have one, do we?"
She didn’t reply.
"If they don’t find the documents in the coming days, with the humidity they have here, there's a good chance that they’ll disintegrate," I added.
She turned Evgeny and looked at him. "He’s so beautiful, it’s almost a shame he’s dead."
"What are you talking about?" Whatever had come over her? Beautiful? What did that have to do with the fact he was a dangerous criminal?
"How could someone so beautiful be so cruel?" She sounded thoughtful.
"You know him?" I asked suspiciously.
"I've never seen him before. You think we should wait a while?"
"No, we must hurry. They’re waiting for him downstairs. Collect the diamonds and the letter and get out of here."
"Did you see anyone waiting for him?"
"It’s not just anyone waiting for him – it’s Henri. Immediately we leave here, we'll have to find another place to go.”
A cloud of concern came over her face. "Henri? Now we can’t rely on the hotel chauffeur service. How will we ever get a taxi in this city?"
"Who's talking taxis? It’s side streets for us right now."
She finished collecting the diamonds and the letter and put them in her bag. We closed the empty safe and locked it and then I hefted the body onto my shoulders. "I really hope there’s a door to the back," I said.
After carrying Evgeny’s corpse down three flights of stairs, I sighed with relief when we found the building did, indeed, have a back door. Gabi opened it and peered out. The trash cans themselves were uncovered and the smell coming from them in the late June heat was terrible. However, I approached them willingly. I passed them and went to the wall enclosing the yard. I looked right and left and didn’t see anyone. I swung the body over the wall and a split second later I heard it land on dry ground. I tried to avoid throwing him onto the track itself. Something like that would endanger the next train and lead to the discovery of the body much faster than I had hoped.
I scanned the back of the building. It seemed the buildings were separated by no more than a low wall, waist height at most. "We’ll go through these yards till we pass Henri," I whispered in her ear. She nodded and walked after me. I counted five walls before we got to the end of the block. From there, we went into the garbage entrance of another building and exited it into the street. I glanced at my watch. In less than three hours, we’d gone from hedonistic tourists to fugitive killers, I thought.
"Do you think that -"
I put my hand over her mouth. "From now on, speak only English or French. If they’re looking for us, Hebrew will be a clear hallmark,” I said in English.
"You think we'd better start looking for somewhere else to stay?”
"Nothing fancy. Maybe a room in a house. We should look for signs that advertise that.”
As we spoke, I saw her pull her cell phone out of her bag. I stopped her immediately.
“I cannot use my phone?”
"Absolutely not. I’ll remove the SIM, break the battery and throw away the device.”
"What’s a SIM?”
"It’s the heart of the machine - what connects you to the network and IDs your location and all the rest. We'll keep it for the information it contains, telephone numbers, etc. You can use it back in Israel. “
"What about yours?”
"I checked mine when I was with Nadav. We need at least one device.”
I opened her cell phone and pulled out the SIM card and the battery. We walked on in silence. At the nearest corner shop, we bought a bottle of water and some snacks. I didn’t know where we’d finish up tonight. It was important to keep up our energy.
"Have you noticed we’re in a different district?" I noticed that she kept to French.
"Yes, of course. You won’t find these bars in the Muslim quarter."
"Too bad our deception didn’t work. We could have had fun in Paris."
"That it didn’t work, or that your friend really wasn’t involved?”
"Yes. Although I’ll miss enjoying Paris, at least I made a friend in Natalia.” After a tired yawn, she added, "I think we need a plan for tonight."
"Forget the Four Seasons or any hotels on that scale," I reminded her.
"Yes. I understand. I thought maybe we could find a shelter at a friend’s.”
"He lives in Paris?”
"A little out of town. I just hope he’s home. He travels extensively." She didn’t elaborate and I didn’t pry. The time for that would come, but not now. "You know his phone number?"
"It was in my phone. But it won’t be a problem to find it."
"Let's try your SIM card in my cell. Perhaps we can get the number off it."
Under the letter ‘P’, there it was - Pierre's phone number.
***
When we entered the decorative iron gates, I thought they were impressive, but didn’t provide much protection. The real protection was provided by dogs that ran loose on the grass around the house. Just as we approached, I realized that they didn’t have access to the building - their run covered an area from the outside wall to an inner wall. The second gate was less aesthetic, but much more significant. In this area, I also began to see the sculptures. They were scattered across the lawn, illuminated by floodlights. There was something unpleasant about them for me, but Gabriella was gushing.
"For me, this is the safest place in the world.”
"You’ve been here a lot?"
"It was my home for almost three years. The only place I felt only good."
"Were you married to him?" It wasn’t what she’d given me to believe.
She laughed. "No. Not married. I lived with him. Here, a long time ago, when I was a student."
"I remember. You told me about him. I thought you were still angry with him. Have you been in touch with him since you left?"
"The years made me forgive him. He’ll always be dear to my heart.”
I knew she was precious to him, too. The impression I got from her side of the phone call was a conversation with a man in love. Was he in love enough to kill her husband and son? If so, what would he do to me? I wanted to ask if her husband had been aware of this relationship, but we reached the door, where Pierre awaited us, before I could ask.
The man who was waiting for us did not look at all like as I’d imag
ined. He was tall and erect, gray-haired and well dressed. Every hair lay right where he wanted… it was an impressive mane that went perfectly with his suit. He looked like European royalty. He wrapped Gabi in a warm, long embrace and he shook my hand with a charming smile. I expected competition between us, but he was very kind and welcoming. At least my tension eased. Pierre shook my hand, and I half expected him to say, "Bond… James Bond.” But instead, he said, "I’m Pierre, a friend of Gabriella. Welcome to my humble home.”
For something ‘humble,’ it was quite a residence.
Only when I took a shower did I felt my tension loosen some more. At this point, I was trying to figure out what trouble I’d gotten myself into. I’d killed someone. It wasn’t the first time, but then I’d been in uniform, with the army behind me and the terrorists before me. Now, I’d delivered extreme hostility in a war that wasn’t even mine. Even if I could get leave and return to Israel without being caught, a polygraph test administered by the Mossad would be the end for me, because I’m lousy at even keeping a poker face, never mind how I cope internally.
I let the water run. It washed away everything: the last hours, the sweat and soot, blood, perhaps even the tears splashed on me. The future I’d planned for myself went down the drain along with the water.
The maid had left me some clothes on the bed. They were size XL and enclosed in a bag. For whom did he keep larger clothes than his own? I took them out of the bag and put them on: a gray T-shirt and a pair of three-quarter length pants in shades of gray, black and white. In general, this matched, but I’d never wear these clothes in other circumstances. They were too tight, as always with European sizes. It's not like I was used to American measurements, which gave me the liberated feeling that I loved, but I had no choice. Our clothes had to be destroyed as quickly as possible. They tied us to Evgeny’s murder.
