by L. Rosenman
“Does he give out invoices?” Illouz chuckled sarcastically. “A real Robin Hood, what a guy!” There was general laughter and nodding around the room.
“For agreeing to release him, that good soul, he told us that he took the beating from someone named Saul.”
“And why is that of interest to the Chief Superintendent Galili? Sam, start talking, our time’s short,” said Illouz, squinting at his watch.
“In short, David tells us there’s a new business in Eilat. Someone targeting less-than- honorable traders and others who are actually clients of ‘David, the great protector.’ The new guy offers them investment opportunities.”
“Investment?” Everyone’s eyes widened, and they leaned over to hear better.
“He promises them excellent returns, and they invest with him. They wait in line like kids at a candy store!”
“Where do these excellent returns come from?” The typist had stopped recording the meeting and butted in. Everyone looked at her.
Illouz said calmly, “Were you born yesterday? It’s called a ‘sting.’ The money gets passed from one to another until he flees abroad and whoever’s without their money eats their shorts!”
“Okay,” Galili cut in. “Do you have a composite sketch? Evidence? Photos? Anything?”
“No,” replied Sam, “only David’s testimony and the frayed nerves of the traders. Yesterday, a few of them started fighting and two spent the night in the hospital. No one knows why.”
“I understand,” said Galili and thought. “Here are some options...” He pulled out a notebook, wrote headlines, drew circles, and gradually the page filled up to the top with arrows and numbers.
An hour later, the meeting was over. The participants dispersed, and only the computer remained with its flickering screensaver. They were the missing persons pictures, published every week by the Israeli police, a collage of faces of men, women, and young people, at whom no one bothered to look. Two days after publication, they become ‘old missing persons.’
Meanwhile, in the office of Alex Wesser, director of a Private Investigation office in Tel Aviv, a meeting took place that threatened to undermine the professional credibility of the office. A woman in her fifties, her hair pinned up, her lips pursed, and adorned with hot cherry red lipstick, was waving a pile of printed papers and raising her voice. “Two weeks since he disappeared, Mr. Wesser! Two weeks and you sell me this pile of crap! I’m paying you for several detectives who, you claim, are working day and night to unravel the mystery, and what do I get? Nothing!”
“Mrs. Dominguez,” Alex sighed for the hundredth time in the conversation. He stroked his closely cropped beard. “At first you asked us to locate your husband and we located him for you. That was easy. He changed his name to Saul, but didn’t work so awfully hard to stray far from reality. We told you the day after his disappearance that he was in Tel Aviv. He was seen in Nahalat Binyamin. You know he was with an Argentinean woman.”
Orna dismissed the information with a brief wave. “His infidelities are of no interest to me. He’s well known for it, ever since we got married. I’m looking for the money.” Alex sighed again.
“We lost him on the third day, but he was quickly found in Eilat. We have a guy in Eilat, at a permanent branch of the office. This is the most common haven for cheating husbands, traitors, people who want to escape their business, family, whatever. Since then we’ve been sitting on his tail. It’s not easy. He ganged up with a group of criminals, and they’re very suspicious.”
“I told you to follow the girl who disappeared with him. Michal, she’s the key to the money. I’m sure he sent her to organize the financial transfers while he’s out playing in Eilat. She’s a bank clerk and knows about these things. What happened to her?”
“Michal... yes. Well, we also located her in Eilat. To us, she seems innocent and not involved at all, Mrs. Dominguez. At least not in the romantic sense.”
“And on what basis did you decide that so quickly?”
“She lives in a trailer with some guy, a disabled war veteran. Lovebirds. Selling cutlets.”
“But she has the money, Alex. She’s the front, and she’s getting a cut!”
“Look, Mrs. Dominguez,” Alex sighed, “we just know the facts, and there’s no proof of what you suggest here. She’s not spending cash, she’s not walking into banks, or flying abroad at all. In contrast, Raul actually seems very generous.” Alex chuckled to himself. The laughter stuck in his throat when he met with Orna’s petrifying look. “I mean, he disperses funds to all sorts of people, not all of them on the right side of the law. He’s simply spreading cash systematically.”
She looked again at the blurry images spread before her. There was no avoiding it. Despite the distance from which the pictures were taken, Raul was clearly pictured handing money to people. She clenched her hands so hard that her nails left a red mark on her hands.
“He’s out of his mind! Burning the money he promised me...” she said under her breath and stood up. “Give me his address. I’m going to Eilat now.”
“We lost him again.”
“What!” She moved closer to him.
“For the past three days, my trackers have been unable to find him. He’s just gone.”
Orna started screaming. She stalked out of his office, and her door-slam shook all the windows on the floor.
Alex went after her. “He’ll pop up again, Mrs. Dominguez. He’ll show!”
She snorted and ripped up the contract in her hands. Fragments of the contract swirled around and covered the floor of the corridor leading to his office. Alex fell silent.
Chapter 12: Lynn
07/01/2013 - Sixteenth day of disappearance, the Uprooted Camp
Lynn’s days were packed. In the mornings she went walking on the beach, and upon her return, she’d feed Tom the cat and sit down to eat breakfast, usually in the absence of Dave. She’d cook food for the restaurant, and then serve and clean up when the diners left. She always handed the revenues to Dave in the evening, when he returned from his errands and fishing at sea.
In the afternoons, she went to Saul’s trailer, where she’d provide details of the people she thought were candidates for investment, and accompany Saul to meetings, no more than two or three per evening. Saul had quickly observed that marketing with Lynn’s help was substantially easier compared to marketing with Gidi, and he was excluded from many meetings, much to his resentment.
Dave arranged the fish he’d caught in the refrigerators standing behind the trailer, and sat down to take care of the bills. He marked down the little sum which Lynn had borrowed from him and pursed his lips in anger. He felt hurt and betrayed. He had nothing to hold on to. Lynn had no commitment to him and had made sure to include as much in their contract. She was his partner in their small business and was renting his room, nothing more. He was afraid of losing the frail relationship remaining between them.
For years, he’d lived in isolation and never been bothered by it, in contrast to the loneliness he’d felt in these last few days when Lynn was absent in the evenings and the relationship between them had started to break down. He longed for their conversations about books; yearned for the glow in her eyes, the caressing tone of her voice; and was also worried for her. He didn’t like Saul. This man was smooth and probably a criminal while his friend, and possibly his lover, Gidi, certainly looked like a criminal.
Dave went inside the trailer and prepared his supper. Lynn was an independent person and had been for many years. His worry and offers to protect her could certainly be perceived as nagging and an invasion of her privacy. And then... all of a sudden... she might just disappear, just as she had split from her life in Tel Aviv. And if she disappeared from Dave’s life... again... what would be?
Again? Why did this word come to mind? Where did this sense that he’d already known Lynn previously in his life come from? Why did he have a strange feeling that he’d met Lynn in another circle? At another time? In a different neighb
orhood? At school? At the market stalls? But... she’d always lived in Tel Aviv, and he’d lived his entire life in Beer Sheba. But... this was a small country and maybe... maybe somewhere in his childhood...
He should go see a medium, maybe a hypnotist, someone to help him uncover that chapter in his early childhood. But... what was the point? He sighed and went on chopping vegetables.
An hour later, Dave went to see Maurice. Maurice, the founder of the camp, was like a sixty-year-old teenage hippy who enjoyed solving complex problems. He loved Dave like a son. Since he’d lost his own son in the Yom Kippur War, his life had become a bleeding wound. He could not bear the ordinary life, his wife who was even more bitter than he was, or his job as an accountant. Only when he left everything that reminded him of his son, only when he discovered the sea of Eilat, and only when he looked at it every morning, did he feel he could contain his life and live it somehow, until the moment he’d be reunited with Assaf, his dead son. And then Dave had joined the camp. His cheerful vitality, kindness, and strength spoke to Maurice’s heart, and they quickly became friends. One had found a father figure, and the other an acceptable substitute for his son, who would never come back.
“Hey, Dave!” Maurice opened the door for him. “Come, let’s sit down, there’s cold beer and grapes. You’re in?”
“I’m in!” Dave laughed and sat up. “It’s a mess here in the camp, Dave.”
“What’s going on?” Dave asked curiously.
“Your girl’s persuading them, one by one, to reach in their pockets and give their money to that Saul and his pimply friend.”
Dave’s face darkened, his eyes lingering on the trail of sand grains on the side of the table, and then he replied, “She’s not my girl. Just a tenant.”
“No matter,” Maurice said. “I have life experience, and this stinks. People don’t hand out money just like that. There’s a bunch of innocent people here, and in a few days they’ll be hit by this sting. These villains will disappear as if the ground’s swallowed them, maybe your girl too, and people will be left without a penny to their name and with debts to God knows who. And that’s the best possible scenario! That generator exploding yesterday? It doesn’t seem like an accident to me at all. It’s a threat. That’s how these people work. The underworld, Dave… I tell you, the underworld!”
When he left, Dave’s gaze was fixed on the ground while he pondered over Maurice’s words. He walked idly passed a small storeroom when all of a sudden he stumbled on a piece of wood in the sand. He fell and hit his nose, and a few minutes later got back on his feet. His bad leg was bothering him. It was already late. The moon was full, and there wasn’t a soul on the beach. He sighed and headed home.
Gidi appeared from behind the storeroom with a big smile on his face. He watched Dave as he walked back to his trailer.
07/05/2013 - Twentieth day of disappearance
Lynn was sitting in the small living room of Saul’s trailer. She drank coffee while Gidi and Saul were drinking their second beer.
“Michali,” said Saul, “you can see how wonderfully well things are going for us, the Kings.” He smiled. “And as for me, I keep my promises. Here - first, this is your investment and there’s also the consideration of your labor.” He sat in front of her with a pocket calculator and clicked it several times, then turned it toward her so she could read the amount, away from Gidi’s line of sight. She looked and nodded. Her eyes widened and she felt a sudden dryness in her throat. He got up, pulled out his wallet and counted 3400 shekels into Lynn’s hand. She’d originally invested 1200 shekels, so the amount she held in her hand was more than double that, plus interest. She’d earned 2200 shekels in a week, just for attending a few meetings. It was nice, very nice. Gidi pushed his chair back noisily, got up, and stalked out of the trailer.
“Where’s he gone?” Lynn asked.
“To take a leak,” said Saul. But Lynn knew, of course. She was eating into what Gidi considered to be his profits, and it infuriated him. “I think you’re doing very well, Michal. I don’t think you want to spend your entire future frying cutlets and cleaning tables. In the end, people get tired of it and want Chinese or Mexican food or something. And anyway... can you compare it to the profits you made with me, especially considering the limited amount of work you’d invested? “
“No,” she admitted, looking at him. He was wearing a new lilac shirt. He was a little thinner and tanned. His gaze dazed her. She felt herself sinking into a kind of slippery well again.
“I predict a great future for you at the bank I’m building now. You and I...”
“And Gidi?” she asked quickly. He sighed.
“There’s not much future for Gidi in our business. He suited us when the business was small, and I thank him for that. But, it seems to me that, pretty soon, he and I’ll split up. Of course, you don’t have to mention it yet.”
“I won’t tell,” she nodded as if spellbound, then narrowed her brow and asked, “So who’ll take his place? After all, someone has to go and collect and distribute, and so on.”
Saul sat back, moved a little closer to her and said, “This is where your Dave comes into play.”
“Dave?” Lynn opened her eyes wide. “What about him?”
“He’s a part of the bigger picture. He has leadership ability, charisma, and a lot of brains. He can be an important element in our system.”
Saul thought about the reports he’d received from Gidi, about the conversations Dave had been having with the camp residents, especially the older ones, his considerable influence over them, and the opposition he had encountered in the camp to his proposals. He decided the time to strike was nearing, but in the meantime, Dave needed to be made a friend and quickly. Everything would be easier.
Lynn tensed. It didn’t seem logical. Dave was known to oppose them. Her relationship with Dave was quite strained because of it.
“I know he’s opposed to our business methods, Michal. Don’t worry. This is due to lack of knowledge. Arrange for a meeting with him, one on one. I’ll explain it to him. He has a head for math, he’s wise, and he was a business owner. He’ll understand.”
“I don’t think -” Lynn swallowed.
“I also know, my dear Michal,” he almost whispered in her ear, “that your real name is not Michal. Your name is Lynn. I know a lot about you... a lot. A lot more than Dave knows, and maybe he shouldn’t know. Lynn, my young sweetheart, you and I are two of a kind.”
Saul almost whispered the words. He was very close to her. He took her head gently, stroked her with passion, and ran his finger over her lips. “Lynn, you’re astoundingly beautiful. How is it you don’t know that?”
He came closer to kiss her. Her flesh crawled. He was older and a little like her father, but he wasn’t... he... she mustn’t... and she closed her eyes almost reluctantly and surrendered to his hot and intrusive kisses, but then he held her tight, and when he began taking off her shirt while he stroked her neck, she grabbed her purse, opened the door and fled. Saul smiled and whispered, “Lynn, you’ll come to me. Very soon.”
Lynn fled to the lagoon created by the tide, a small pool of seawater gathered between the rocks. She sat there to catch her breath and consider her feelings. He knew who she was. Theoretically, he could be her father... and he was dangerous. He had an almost magical ability to control her and subjugate her for his own purposes. She didn’t want to be caught in his net of crime. She wanted to help Dave. Maybe to... she looked at her image in the water of the lagoon and caught the familiar spark in her pupils.
The Crystal Circle
She sat there on the floor, in the center of the Hall of Light in the Crystal Circle. This time she was wearing jeans. Everyone was dressed as if for a journey - jeans, shirts, and hats and looked like a group of jolly school kids on a field trip. Raz’el approached her this time wearing a gold, wide-sleeved silk shirt.
“Michal, pure soul, what’s happening?”
“I’m... in the midst of a storm. I fe
el it coming. I love Dave, but he’s my brother!” She looked at Dave, who smiled at her and stroked her hair. “I love, or feel attracted, to Saul, but he’s like my father, and that’s both strange and exciting. I feel the destructive passion blinding my senses. And he... he’s much more sophisticated than me.” She turned to Saul and asked, “You don’t really mean to kill Dave, right?”
Saul looked at her with pity and hugged her. “My Michal, our Michal. I could never be as sophisticated as you. But that’s the intention, yes. That’s what we planned, remember? I must succeed in killing him. At least I tried to in the Bible, as I did in all of the previous incarnations. The Bible just opened the path, and we walk along it.”
“Like lambs to the slaughter?” Michal stormed, her eyes brimming with green sparks, “Why?”
“Raz’el! Do something… let him be merely wounded, please…” Miriam looked at Raz’el with a silent plea, her eyes flooded with tears.
Mark embraced his wife. “Miriam, this is how it is. We dealt with letting him go many years ago, remember? What was lost again, in the reality of life, won’t hurt us, since we won’t know about it.”
Raz’el looked at Michal and said, “Michal, you have a lot of spiritual strength. I trust you’ll remember Yossi in due time, and your loyalty to him. You can control everything. Almost. Ladies and gentlemen,” he turned to the group. Michal sat down in the Circle, burying her face in her lap. “Since when did you decide you want to avoid pain? Pain advances you, improves and refines your sensitivity. I wish it could be otherwise. We are here, at the gates of Heaven, to remind you of the high place your souls are at, and that you don’t have to go along the path you laid together. But every change has meaning, both for the individual and everyone in the group depending on him, and also up there.” He looked up to the shining, transparent crystal ceiling, above which was a gleaming and colorfully sparkling canopy. “Everything that everyone does affects and changes the whole creation. You have an impact. You are loved and respected. Those who bring challenges to the lives of others as well as those who make it easier on them.”
