Just People

by Paul Usiskin

  ‘You’d shoot at me?’ yelled the voice in Dov’s head. He stood on the bridge, the rain swollen waters rushing on, carrying the Chevy away down stream, watching to see if Stein or Levin got out. Neither did.

  His emotions had flat-lined once in the Storm. He examined them now and felt nothing, no guilt, no regret that he wouldn’t be getting confessions from the two Americans.

  How many had he killed by now? He couldn’t remember. The deaths he’d been involved with were all kill-or-be-killed. They left him empty. He’d never enjoyed meting out violence to all those necessary deaths. The list was long, he was sure.

  He’d concluded bitterly that many of his fellow citizens, some of them crossing the lower bridge down there in their cars and vans and buses and trucks, had killed in wars and God had left them living with the truth of what they’d done, and he divined that that wasn’t God’s only punishment.

  His conscience had become a shriveled up thing and he acknowledged his sudden fear, that he was becoming a man without a heart.

  27

  To Dubi, Dov said, ‘Hold the chopper taking the body bags down to Abu Kabir, and find Stein and Levin’s bodies.’ The MAZAP team arrived and began their work.

  At Rosh Pina before boarding the helicopter back to Ramallah, Hisham said, ‘I’ll get those tire casts from the SUV in the Al-Bireh kidnap to you as quickly as possible.’

  ‘Sorry if I scared you,’ Dov said.

  ‘Scared? It was exhilarating. Keep me updated?’

  ‘I promise.’

  On the flight to the Knesset to brief the Prime Minister, Dov asked Amos, ‘Did you get what I asked for on that check?’

  ‘Look at your iPad.’

  ‘Progress on the Eli Eliyahu interrogation?’

  ‘Aviel’s still with him. I’ll get him to update you.’

  ‘I’d like that before I see the Man.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Dov ended the call and read Amos’ e-mails.

  *

  In the Prime Minister’s Knesset bureau were Hassid, Goral, the Prime Minister’s national security advisor, and his tamer, the Man. Dov felt the static crackling around the Man, like a solar flare it produced a sharp bolt. ‘What the fuck were you doing up there?’

  ‘Whatever the fuck I needed to do.’

  Gasps from everyone except the Man.

  ‘Prime Minister, I apologize for Dov’s lack of…’

  ‘Don’t bother.’ Dov said flatly.

  The Man ignored him and turned to Goral. ‘Nu?’

  ‘I warned you about giving Chizzik this investigation. He’s a glory seeker, hiding his failures behind an action-man façade. He’s had a senior police officer with a perfect service record held for questioning. We’re nowhere finding the seven abductees.’

  Hassid shook his head at Dov.

  ‘Finished?’ asked Dov.‘You are facing a threat from elements that seek to undermine your authority, trying to alter the results of the election,’ he told the Man. ‘Some of your advisors may be party to that.’

  The Man said, ‘Give me the room with Dov.’

  It was like a stage illusion; they were gone and the Man faced Dov. Another email from Aviel was on Dov’s iPad. Dov resumed. ‘Here’s a progress report on our interrogation of Chief Superintendent Eli Eliyahu, deputy commander of Judea and Samaria Police, commander of the new anti-Jewish terror unit: ‘Suspect denied any involvement with death of Inspector Avi Mazal, until shown transcripts of call traffic from suspect‘s cell to Mazal’s home number, and to Detective Inspector Gurwitz who has yet to close the Biderman case. Phone logs showed long calls to and from numbers identified as Brenner Tech. company phones, numbers used by employees Stein and Levin deceased. I’m sure you know Brenner, hi-tech millionaire, runs Brenner Tech., head of The Jewish Land party.’ The Man’s head nodded once.

  ‘Stein and Levin were suspects in the death of Avi Mazal and the murder of former diplomat Yardena Rotem. They were also implicated in an attack on a US citizen in Washington. We’ve matched paint scrapings from the shipping container and on the truck they were driving, to Mazal’s vehicle. Traffic CCTV shows them positioned next to Mazal’s vehicle whose black box gives us evidence they deliberately rammed him more than once. Continuing with police Brigadier General Weiss’s report: ‘Suspect’s explanation for his whereabouts during Shehadeh family kidnap and during seven Palestinians’ abductions not corroborated. PIID comms monitoring confirms 2 radio bursts between a helicopter and unidentified user of police band dedicated to secure communications. User’s voice pattern matched suspect’s. Traffic CCTV being checked for suspect’s vehicular movements. Interrogation continues.’ We believe Eliyahu fits the profile I outlined at my first briefing at the Justice Ministry. He’s both motivated and well placed to run the abduction operations. As to his perfect service record...’

  The Man said, ‘This is very comprehensive.’

  ‘We’ll also have tire casts to match the Chevy SUV used in the kidnap of the Shehadeh family of Al-Bireh, whose remains were found in a cemetery of numbers near the B’not Yaakov bridge. It’s a Brenner Tech. vehicle, local witness description’s match the same SUV driven by Stein and Levin, Brenner Tech. employees, which has been retrieved from the Jordan. Nahum Brenner’s in on all of this.’

  ‘You’re doing an excellent job, Dov,’ the Man said. Dov was unimpressed by the compliment and his progress, ‘I want regular updates from you and…’

  ‘I can’t do that and run this operation,’ Dov said curtly. ‘I’m close to identifying who’s behind the abductions. I’m not a glory seeker. I’m a field investigator, that’s my most effective modus operandi. You knew that when you appointed me .’

  ‘Remind me, what’s your chain of command?’ the Man asked brusquely.

  ‘You’re at the top, then Minister Hassid.’

  ‘So you report to me when I say.’

  ‘Who do you think I am?’ Dov frosty now. ‘Trash collector? Filipino maid? There’s a wreak of corruption about this case and I’m just a servant of the state, not a politician practising the art of the possible in a shining white shirt and smile to match.’ The Man wore both. ‘Someone has taken whatever’s left of the values this country was built on and turned them to shit. How did we spawn twisted minds that plan abductions and murders of an innocent Palestinian family and grab seven young Palestinians for political ransom? Why do we rebury bodies in numbered graves waiting for a body trade opportunity? Who had a policeman murdered in an RTA? Who killed a key suspect in the Biderman role-play? Who got a woman diplomat to accuse a senior police officer of rape and then had her murdered? Who synthesized my late grandfather’s voice and why? All this, starting with the first kidnap operation, cost a lot of money, and I’m sure whoever it is, has enormous wealth and thinks that makes them irreproachable. You said whatever I wanted I should ask for. So this is what I want, let me do what I do best.’ He finished, placed his hands on the table in front of him, cold calm, staring back at the Man.

  ‘What’s next?’ the Man asked as if Dov hadn’t vented.

  ‘Minister Hassid will update you.’

  Outside the bureau Hassid asked him the same question as the Man’s.

  ‘When I know my next step you’ll be the first…’

  He gave Dov a smile as thin as a razor blade, ‘I don’t suppose the Storm’s black box would show up anything untoward about your driving at the Bailey bridge?’

  ‘Why? Was there an RTA?’

  Hassid shrugged, ‘And you’re not a good dissembler either.’

  ‘Oh I don’t know. ‘It ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it’, isn’t that how the song goes?’

  He was oblivious to the cross-town drive back to the Ministry. He was tired of chopper flights, he wanted to be grounded in reality. His conscious stream flowed like a river in spate. What a wonderful machine th
e human brain is multi-tasking on different layers simultaneously I said things to the Man about my investigation not naming Hareven look what I did to Stein and Levin my mind isn’t twisted Daoud’s murder can it all be put down to operational exigency who created grandpa Dudik’s voice synth who called Irit with that single ring if it was Stein or Levin they knew he was there in the rear of the Storm is Aviel getting more from Eliyahu how does Amos do that mind read and teleport thing was that really a love poem Irit wrote is she genuine or is this another I-love-you-for-now is she wearing any panties … and ... and...what was I thinking? Dumb question.

  Where was Lana in that flow? And Yakub? That pricked him. And then he thought of the twin facts that he hadn’t told the Man: I have no proof whatsoever that my chief suspect is Hareven; Operation Trigon is far from end phase and the device went off.

  ‘I told him to stop playing that stupid bazooki music. The Greeks might be going down the drain with their money problems, but they’re racist shits, they’ve even got a Jewish girl helping them, what’s her name, Goldie Hawn?’

  ‘How many times’ve I told you to get your ears seen to Simaleh? Like you couldn’t find a nice doctor in this hospital to see to it?’

  ‘It’s always sex with you Tzioneleh, I don’t want a doctor giving me a seeing to, you never know where his hands have been, for God’s sake!’ They spoke with soft Moroccan accents.

  ‘Oy Sarahleh, you see? Stop with that mop a minute and look at me! In Greece it’s the Golden Dawn, not that actress Goldie Hawn, and you should ask a doctor to help you clean the wax out of your ears, it’s not funny any more.’

  ‘What’s that about an axe?’

  ‘Shhh, look, you woke this poor man now. Go on down the corridor and finish up by the nurses’ station and do the other end, OK? Sorry for the noise mister, she’s got wax in her ears and she can’t hear the sound of her own voice.’

  ‘Which hospital is this?’

  ‘What? You don’t know where you are? It’s Hadassah.’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Mount Scopus.’

  ‘Don’t think I’ve been here before, have I?’ I should write a guidbook on Israeli hospitals, Dov thought wearily. ‘It’s a good hospital?’

  ‘Depends what you’re in for.’

  ‘Accident…’

  ‘Are you OK? I’ll fetch the nurse.’ Her flip-flops flapped down the wet corridor before Dov could tell her he was all right. He found his cell phone in the drawer by his bed and called Amos.

  ‘Are these phones secure?’

  ‘Can’t say 100% but...’

  ‘They knew,’ Dov said. ‘Fatalities?’

  ‘One YAMAM dead, Dubi’s in serious condition, two others critical including your driver, he may lose an eye, glass splinters from the windshield, four pedestrians injured by debris. We think it was a remote device. They made a mistake with which vehicle you were in. Good to hear your…’

  It was like the device exploded again; it took minutes for the memory after-shock to subside and for him to absorb there’d been a fatality, and Dubi and others injured. Should have taken the chopper. He couldn’t deal with it just now, what with recovering from an assassination attempt, so on.

  ‘Who knows I made it?’

  ‘No one. The Minister ordered a press and media black out. The crime scene was shut down.’

  ‘Get a unit to this address for Lana al-Batuf and get her and Yakub to a safe house, we must have access to one. Do it now. Primary recognition code is Yaffa. Secondary is Olive Grove. I’ll want to speak to the team leader on arrival.’ He gave the address and called Lana. He had no idea what the time was. She answered on the eighth ring.

  ‘Pack a bag. Be ready to go when they buzz you. Don’t ask me any questions. They tried to kill me. They’ll try to get to me through those close to me when they learn they failed, if they don’t already know. You’ll be asked two questions. The answers are Yaffa and Olive Grove.’

  ‘What? When? Are you OK? How do they know who we are and where we are?’

  Her sincerity and anxiety made him pause.

  ‘Keep the phone on now and with you wherever you go. I want to hear you until our team arrives.’

  He listened in as his sleepy son responded to Lana’s persistent efforts to wake him, yes it was very early – Dov’s cell said 3.04 am – and they were going on an adventure and they’d see Aba soon.

  Five minutes later he heard her door buzzer and strained to hear the voice.

  Lana gave the code words.

  ‘Put him on,’ and the team leader said they were clear to go.

  Lana came back. ‘Where are we going Dov?’

  ‘No idea.’

  The nurse was built like a weight lifter, tight blonde curls and you-don’t-get-by-me expression, ready for hand to hand combat with this man, whoever he was, she wouldn’t have given a damn, nor did Dov. It was his job, and he had to get it done, with whatever degree of concussion and cuts to his face. As he got dressed, ignoring the nurse’s dire warnings, issued in a rasping voice, if he discharged himself without a doctor’s assessment, so on, while he tried to retrieve what he could of the time sequence that led to the explosion.

  His little convoy had crossed the Paris Square intersection, using blue lights and sirens, passing the supermarket at the corner. It was early afternoon and traffic from Agron Street moved up as the lights changed, a family of shoppers were filling the trunk of a cab parked by the supermarket stairs. Dov was in the second SUV, he couldn’t recall what he was thinking and what came back to him was a series of flashbacks. They looked like a page in a cartoon magazine, frame after frame depicting a transition through streaks of color, yellow, orange, with gray and white smoke, parts of the lead SUV and a leg, an empty riot helmet, a pair of handcuffs, then the blast wave, then the sound, then the windshield in front of him disintegrating, bullet proof glass isn’t blast proof, depends on the amount of explosive and proximity, and ... he fought his way clumsily into his clothes and out of the clutches of the nurse, her voice shrill, two new YAMAM officers standing at the top of the bed, ‘ready for you Dov’ and they marched down the corridor, Saraleh and Havaleh moving aside, enjoying the nurse’s near hysteria.

  What surprised him was that he functioned at all.

  ‘Dov?’ Amos’s tired voice asked at the door of the new SUV outside the entrance to the Ministry of Justice and he blinked and tried a smile.

  ‘Hi Amos. No sleep?’

  ‘Ephraim Cordova’s called a couple of times. Says its urgent you get down to Abu Kabir. Won’t say what it’s about, but he was very, very insistent. You’re going by chopper.’

  ‘You coming?’

  ‘Can’t, someone needs to be here keeping track.’

  ‘I can ask Aviel. Change is as good as a rest. Where is he?’

  ‘Asleep on your office couch.’

  ‘You see where all that initiative-taking’s got you? Now you’re indispensable. So I’ll go and see the old man, and let you know.’

  ‘You sound OK Dov. Are you?’ Dov walked towards the chopper, its blades picking up speed. Had anyone asked the owner of the lot behind the Ministry for permission to use it as a helipad?

  ‘Reports of my death…’

  ‘Are greatly exaggerated, yes I know the quote, but thanks to the Minister there’s still no comment on the bombing. The press is banging on someone else’s door, they’ve been intentionally misdirected, anything to keep them off you.’

  ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Nearly nineteen hundred hours.’

  ‘So I’ve been out, what about two hours?’

  ‘No, the bomb was yesterday afternoon.’

  Dov blinked twice. ‘Did you have a bicycle as a child?’

  ‘Ah ... bicycle? Yes, I did.’

  ‘So you remember it?’

  ‘Yes of course I
do.’

  ‘How old were you when you got it?’

  ‘Five or six’

  ‘Great. Buy one as close to the one you had and get it delivered to Yakub.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Now.’ Dov collapsed into sleep as the helicopter took off.

  The emeritus pathologist greeted him with, ‘You are stockpiling bodies, Dov. Not so much an investigator more a Grim Reaper.’

  Don’t you start, he thought, but said, ‘Sorry,’ for no reason.

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Oh for fuck’s…

  ‘What’s so urgent Ephraim?’ trying and failing to sound patient.

  Ephraim caught the stress in his voice but said nothing about the cuts to Dov’s face.

  ‘We took delivery of the following: two fatalities from a road traffic accident at the Bailey bridge at Rosh Pina, a Bedouin male shot in the head, and a body in a Health Ministry body bag found in the road traffic accident vehicle and two bags also with Health Ministry markings, one with assorted body parts, the other a death by beating. Much hard work.’

  ‘Yes…’ He produced Hisham’s tire cast photos. ‘Can you process these through the system? It’ll just save me time.’

  ‘ Of course. What are they?’ Dov told him. ‘If they match to the Chevy SUV found in the Jordan, they’ll tie Stein and Levin to the kidnap of the Palestinian family to those two deceased.’

  ‘I will let you know as soon as I do. I think I’ll pass that evidence on to Mr Fetlock. In the meanwhile they gave you as the authority for urgent autopsies, but I could not give you your usual platinum service. I am, as the Americans used to say, snowed under, and I parceled them all out to other staff, except for the body bag that came from the... what was it again, oh yes a Chevrolet, a Suburban Utility Vehicle. It seems everybody drives them these days, so to say, government agents, assassination teams, anyway I decided to work on it with our new Virtopsy unit, the cost of one could fund a whole…’