Lone Wolf in Jerusalem

by Ehud Diskin

  Jeffries’s beady eyes narrowed. He frowned and looked me straight in the eyes. I knew I had made a mistake, possibly a fatal one, but I kept my eyes fixed on his.

  “David,” he said, “I have reason to believe that the Irgun is planning an attempt on my life, so I have to be careful. At this stage, this is the only viable arrangement.”

  “Yes, sir, I understand completely,” I quickly agreed. “I hope you catch those rats soon.”

  On my way home from the barracks, I stopped at the Cohens’ grocery store. It was around noon, and only Mrs. Cohen was inside.

  “I have something to admit,” I said. “I’m interested in Sarah after all. Shoshana is wonderful, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be tied down to one woman.”

  “I knew it! I wasn’t wrong in recognizing you as a Don Juan!” Mrs. Cohen said with a smug smile. “It will be interesting to see if you have any success with her too.”

  “Would you mind helping me? What if I buy something Sarah normally gets and take it to her, saying she forgot it at the store?”

  Mrs. Cohen snorted. “So, you’ve been following her around?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you might have her address.” Although I knew Sarah’s address, if Jeffries were to investigate, he needed to believe that I received it from Mrs. Cohen.

  She gave me a shrewd look. “Sarah always gets a half pound of this yellow Tnuva cheese. If you pay me double, I’ll throw in the address for free.”

  After buying the block of cheese, I made my way to Sarah’s place. I was happy to see that Baruch wasn’t on his balcony as I entered the building.

  I knocked on her door, and Sarah opened it a minute later. “Who are you?” she asked, squinting. “I think I’ve seen you before.”

  I put on my most charming smile. “Yes,” I said, “you’ve seen me at the Cohens’ store. I live nearby. I was at the store and heard Mrs. Cohen say something about putting aside this cheese you’d bought but had forgotten to take with you.”

  “Ah, yes, from the grocery store … but I don’t remember buying the cheese. But if Mrs. Cohen says so …” Sarah took the packet from my hand, hesitated for a moment, and then invited me inside.

  “How did you know where I live?” she asked.

  “Mrs. Cohen gave me your address,” I said.

  Sarah smiled and offered me a cup of coffee, gesturing for me to take a seat in her living room. After she brought the coffee, she sat down beside me, and we began to talk. She told me that she preferred British men to Jews.

  “They know how to treat a woman, and they have more money too.” With a sigh of longing, she told me about her previous boyfriend, John, and how generous he was.

  “So why did you split up?” I asked.

  “We didn’t split up. He was murdered by some bastard from the underground, not far from here.”

  “I apologize if I’m about to be rude, but do you have a boyfriend now?”

  She thought a moment before responding. “I’m seeing someone, but I’m not entirely happy with our relationship. He’s a financial services officer in the British army who serves at the Schneller Barracks. But as he’s married and has two children, almost all his salary goes to his family in England. I would much rather find another man like John.”

  She waited for my response, and when it didn’t come, she added coyly, “You look like a man who knows a thing or two.”

  I had no interest in any kind of a relationship with her, but I didn’t want to offend her. “I believe in true love,” I said.

  With that, she seemed to lose all interest. “When you grow up and become more practical, little boy, come see me again,” she said impatiently. “Meanwhile, thanks for bringing the cheese.”

  When I stepped out onto the street, I spotted Baruch on his balcony and lowered my head. But he shouted after me to come visit him in his apartment. Left with no choice, I did.

  “You were at Sarah’s,” he said.

  I nodded. He had seen me walk out of Sarah’s building, so there was no point in denying it. “I delivered something she had forgotten at the grocery store,” I said.

  “Did she tell you about her new boyfriend?” he asked with a crooked smile. “He’s British too, but he comes to see her only once a week. I don’t think he’d be much competition for you—he’s really ugly.”

  “Baruch,” I said, “don’t get any ideas in that head of yours. I was simply doing her a favor. I have a girlfriend.”

  The last thing I needed was for Baruch to make some kind of connection between my visits to him and the death of John Perry.

  After about thirty minutes of rummy and Baruch’s meandering stories, I apologized and told him I had to go to work, which was true, but I needed to get out of there regardless. When I’d been following Sergeant Perry, I’d had no choice but to listen to Baruch’s long, tedious stories and play cards with him for hours. I was thankful I would no longer have to suffer that boredom.

  When our shift was over, Shoshana and I had a wondrous night together in bed. It was hard to believe that everything I had wanted for us had finally come together. Some days it seemed like a dream, but it was real. I felt so lucky that our relationship was in full bloom.

  As I rested on my elbow and watched her sleep, I felt a sudden depression sweep over me. I was happy, but did I deserve to be? I lay down, and after tossing and turning for several hours, I decided to go see Brigita in the morning.

  “SORRY FOR SHOWING UP UNANNOUNCED,” I said when Brigita opened her door a few hours later. “I can come back another time if it’s more convenient.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m free. Have a seat, and tell me what brings you here.”

  “I wanted to thank you for the wonderful work you are doing with Shoshana. Our relationship is getting better and better, and you’ve played a big part in that.”

  “I appreciate your gratitude,” Brigita said with a smile, then raised one eyebrow. “But I don’t think that’s why you showed up without an appointment.”

  “I don’t know exactly why I came,” I said. “Perhaps I just needed to speak to someone whose opinions I value.”

  She looked at me for a few seconds. “Can I be brutally honest?” she asked, though in an uncharacter​istically soft tone.

  “Yes,” I replied, sensing that it wasn’t going to be easy for me to hear what she had to say.

  “From what I can see,” she began, “you are a young man who has endured extremely difficult experiences. You’ve built a wall around yourself, and you are very careful not to allow anyone into that enclosed space. You emerge from behind the wall from time to time to accomplish important goals you’ve set for yourself, including some that put you at risk. You focus on these tasks until they’ve been completed, and then you move on to your next objective.” She paused, as if waiting for me to respond.

  “I won’t say you’re wrong,” I answered.

  She nodded and leaned back in her chair. “I think you’ve filed away parts of your past—and your soul—that you never delve into at all. A young man like you, living in such a harsh world, without his family, without the embrace of his loving mother or father, without siblings—that’s a hard life to lead. I’ve never heard you speak of anything personal. How does a young man like you cope with the huge personal losses you’ve suffered?”

  Brigita’s words stunned me, and for a moment, I felt the full brunt of the loss I had experienced. To my shock, I wanted to cry. I wanted to see my mother again, and my father. I wanted to see Leah. My throat tightened. I was a fighter. These feelings were unwanted. They made me feel weak, and yet Brigita’s eyes were full of sympathy. I found myself wanting the comfort she offered.

  Brigita reached out to place her hand on mine. We sat like that for a short while, and I knew then I had found a good friend, an intelligent woman, who knew me in a way very few did.

  After pulling myself together, I said, “This wall I’ve built around myself ever since leaving my old world, at the age of seventeen
, has always weighed on me. I didn’t know anything else, because for years my daily reality set my pace. I needed to survive, to push away fear and sadness, to cast away my feelings of dread and use all my strength to cope with the murderous anti-Semitism in Europe. And now I must cope with the same here in Israel.”

  Brigita listened intently, and as I spoke, I was soothed by the empathy in her piercing eyes. I began to feel as though I wasn’t alone, and it suddenly seemed easier to open up to her than to keep it all in.

  “From a practical perspective,” Brigita said, “you functioned exactly as you should have, but your soul has been damaged.” She paused, giving me a gentle look. “That’s what makes you ill at ease these days, causing you to look for a way to heal your wounded spirit. In Belarus, you didn’t have time to think. Now that you’re no longer fighting a true war, with your life in danger every moment from an enemy who ruthlessly destroyed your people, you don’t always know what to do. Perhaps in your subconscious, you are trying to conflate the British with the Germans. It makes things simpler for you, but that way of thinking is toxic. You are a lone wolf, David, without counsel from anyone but yourself.”

  She gazed at me thoughtfully for a moment. “I think I can offer you some counseling, but only if you can talk honestly and openly about what exactly is troubling you.”

  I stared down at the floor, composing my thoughts. “I think it’s much like you say,” I began. “When I became the commander of a group of partisans, I did everything in my power to lead my people wisely and effectively. I learned not to hesitate for a second and to focus on a single objective—killing the enemy before he killed me.”

  “Not unusual in wartime,” she interjected.

  “Yes. I learned how to stay alive, but I wasn’t afraid to die. The people close to me were more important than my own safety.”

  “It sounds like you were a good leader, David.”

  I raised one brow and shook my head. “Does it? I’m not so sure. When I was a partisan, I met a resistance fighter, a woman, Leah. I loved her. One day, Leah was killed, and I felt—I still feel—that it was my fault. I should have protected her.” I paused, the memory like a knife in my heart. “I wished it had been me instead.”

  “That is a normal reaction,” Brigita murmured.

  “After I got to Israel, I thought I’d have the chance to grow, to nurture my spiritual side, to study and perhaps even to write, but the situation here won’t allow me to live that way. I’m shocked by the injustice, by the fact that my Jewish brothers and sisters who survived the horrors and persecution of the Nazis in Europe are now being persecuted here by the British.”

  “And you feel you must do something about it,” she stated.

  I struggled for a moment to find the right words. “I’ve always seen the Jewish people as one big family,” I finally said. “My Jewish patriotism is the most important aspect of my life, more important than myself and more important than my relationship even with Shoshana. My father and my rabbi imparted these values to me. Even before the war, I believed that I would dedicate my life to such matters in Israel. I’ve dreamed of coming here since I was a small child.”

  “It must be gratifying to have your dream come true at last,” Brigita said.

  I nodded. “Yes, but the war stunted my intellectual development. I changed from a young boy who devoted most of his time to studying and reading into a fighting machine. After surviving for three years in a world that was conspiring to kill me, I came here, only to find Jews treated cruelly at the hands of the British. My people sit in refugee camps with the gates of their homeland closed to them.” I shook my head. “That thought won’t allow me any rest or peace of mind. I feel personally obligated to fight against this injustice, and I feel that I need to forgo my own well-being until we secure a national home for the Jews.”

  Again, I considered telling Brigita about my assassination operations in Jerusalem, and once again, I decided against it. I didn’t think she’d divulge the information intentionally, but I had already told her enough for her to piece together what I was talking about, and she didn’t need to know the specifics.

  “One of the underground organizations has asked for my help in assassinating British targets,” I said. “I didn’t say yes or no, but I told them I needed to rest after all I’ve been through. They accepted my response and said they understood, but they also said they would approach me again soon. What would be your opinion on my agreeing to a mission like that?”

  Brigita fixed me with a stern look. “I understand your desire to help our people, but I wish you would consider your partner too. Shoshana needs to fully recover from the trauma she experienced—if something were to happen to you, that might be more than her still-fragile psyche could handle. And doesn’t she deserve a future here as much as any other Jew? For your own good, my advice is to focus on building your new life. And if you don’t take my advice, I suggest you at least stay away from anyone who asks you to kill indiscriminately.”

  She stood. “I have another appointment, but I’m so glad you came to see me,” she said. She reached out, and we hugged instead of shaking hands.

  “Thank you for your support and for caring,” I said.

  “You’re a special young man,” she said softly, “and I will always be here for you. Take care of yourself, and step out from behind that wall. There are a lot of good things in this world too. See you soon.”

  I WENT BACK TO THE Schneller Barracks the following morning to meet with Jeffries. In spite of Brigita’s advice, I couldn’t help but plan his death. I imagined killing him in his office but knew it would never work. I would never be able to sneak a gun or knife in, and though I could try to kill him with my bare hands, his two bodyguards were always nearby. I couldn’t take them on all at once without a weapon.

  Jeffries seemed pleased to see me. “What do you have for me today?” he asked as he retrieved his bottle of whisky.

  I told him about my encounter with Sarah. “I didn’t get the impression that she’s working for the underground organizations,” I said. “She mainly seems concerned with getting financial support from her lovers. That’s what Sergeant Perry did, and her current lover also supports her. He serves here in the barracks as a financial services officer. If you ask me, he’s probably doing a little embezzling here and there to pay for the girl’s affections.” I had no idea if this was true, but the more I could create discord within the British ranks, the better.

  “I’ll put him under surveillance immediately,” Jeffries said.

  “Sarah tried to tempt me into supporting her too,” I added. “But I turned her down.”

  Jeffries flashed a smile. “I’ve seen your girlfriend. She’s a real beauty.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “By the way, I’ve been informed by General Barker’s people that he’s willing to meet with you. They will advise me of the time and place soon.”

  “Great,” I said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Jeffries held his glass of whiskey up to the light, then set it down and looked at me.

  “Listen, David, you aren’t a typical Jew. Perhaps it’s because you didn’t grow up in Palestine. The Jews here have only two things on their minds—money and getting rid of us. Some say I favor the Arabs over the Jews, but that’s not true. I fought against the Germans, and if it’s true what they say, that the enemy of your enemy is your friend, then I am your friend.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said. “Anyone who killed Germans is a friend of mine.”

  “Anyway, I appreciate your help,” Jeffries said. “How can I repay you?”

  I wanted to ask him to put his gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. “I feel like I’m paying my debt to the British people,” I said instead, “for fighting the Nazis and for managing affairs in Israel so efficiently and fairly. I don’t want any reward, and if you think I can provide more help in the future, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

  I spent the days that followed t
hinking of ways to kill Jeffries but failed to make any progress. I also focused on nurturing my relationship with Shoshana—a most enjoyable task indeed. Work at the restaurant was more pleasant now that Max had grown friendly toward me. One day, he pulled Shoshana aside and offered to celebrate our moving in together with a party at the restaurant, at his expense. It would be held on the following Sunday evening, typically a quiet night for the café.

  On our way home, Shoshana and I thought about who we should invite. She suggested Avrum and Hannah, Brigita, Varda and Binyamin, and her friend Eva. I added Alec, of course; Nelka; my boxing coach, Yousef Bustani; and his sister Rayan. As a joke, I suggested adding Inspector Jeffries too. Shoshana didn’t find it funny.

  I went to Nelka’s apartment to invite her to the party, and she greeted me with a warm hug. “I miss you and think about you often,” she said. “You’ve done more for me than anyone else, especially when you persuaded that Polish couple to leave my apartment.”

  I thought that now that we were in Israel, there was no reason not to tell her the truth. The Polish authorities weren’t going to come find me here, after all.

  “Nelka,” I said, “I didn’t tell you the truth back then. When I knocked on their door, the husband attacked me with an ax and his wife approached me with a knife. I shot and killed them both, and later I tied bricks to the bodies and threw them into the Vistula River.”

  Nelka struggled to speak for a moment. She started sobbing, and then she hugged me. “You are so brave and truly a hero,” she said. “I didn’t know that you had put yourself at such risk for me. How can I ever repay you?”

  “Don’t even think about it,” I said. “Is everything okay with you? How are you getting along? Do you need money?”

  “I’m getting along just fine,” she said. “I’m working from home as a beautician. I don’t have any concerns.”

  I left her apartment feeling happy that my friend had found some peace and that I had played a small part in it.

  SUNDAY EVENING ARRIVED, AND WITH it all the guests. Max and Alec served us, having prepared a festive table with plenty of wine and brandy. Nelka sat next to Brigita, and the two struck up a lively conversation. Nelka asked if it was okay to tell Brigita about her past in Poland, and I had no objections.