The solution came to him like a puff of fresh air. Silver threw his head back and laughed, drawing a glance from Ezekiel. But he could not help it. His laughter grew as he dropped the flyer and clutched his hands together. Allah’s sense of humor!
Rabbi Josh saw Professor Silver get out of a taxicab in front of the Ramban Hostel. “Levy!”
Silver turned slowly.
“You won’t believe what I discovered!”
“Yes?” He folded a bluish paper and put it in his pocket.
Rabbi Josh took his arm, and they strolled down the street. He described breaking into Masada’s room and finding the bar napkin. “If she suspects me, it means she can’t be guilty!”
They passed by a large poster showing a yellow Star of David, from which emerged a black fist with the middle finger sticking up at Uncle Sam.
“Let’s rest.” Silver pointed to a bench under a carob tree. “It’s very confusing.”
“There must be another explanation to what you heard.” Rabbi Josh was too hyped to sit, and he paced across the sidewalk and back. “Perhaps she was mocking Al.”
“I can tell the difference between mocking and-”
“But the note shows she suspects me of being an Israeli agent, of controlling Al, of sending him to bribe Mahoney!”
“A contradiction in facts often has a simple explanation.” Professor Silver sat back, removed his black-rimmed glasses, and patiently rubbed the lenses on his shirt. “I heard them copulating, for God’s sake!”
Rabbi Josh cringed at the image. He still could not believe it.
“We know,” Silver continued, “that Al gave the money to the senator. We know what she did to Al later that night, after Raul was gone.”
The mention of his son pulled Rabbi Josh toward a cliff of despair, but he pulled back. “There’s another explanation.”
“She’s guilty. That’s the only explanation.”
“But Al loved Israel. Why would he help her hurt Israel?”
“But Masada’s so clever! She could have convinced Al that later on she would follow up with another article showing that the bribe actually came from haters of Jews who conspired to hurt Israel’s relations with America, which would make Israel the underdog and help it much more than a single law about mutual defense. You think Al wasn’t stupid enough to believe it?”
Rabbi Josh was confused. “That doesn’t explain the note I found in her room.”
“Al was in love. He would believe her if she said the earth was square. And you, my dear Joshua, suffer from a similar infatuation.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“I don’t blame you. If I were a younger man.” Silver smiled.
“But still, if she’s investigating me, how could she be the culprit?”
“A simple contradiction calls for a simple explanation.”
They reached the front steps of the hostel.
“Our Masada is in the center of an international crisis, and she’s very clever, isn’t she?”
The rabbi nodded.
“What would you do to confuse those who might break into your room?” Silver took the steps up to the entrance.
The rabbi caught up with him. “But the note was on the floor, like it had dropped out of a pocket or discarded!”
“Appeared to be discarded.”
They collected their keys from the front desk and climbed the stairs.
“You underestimate Masada,” Silver chided Rabbi Josh. “She knows that the best defense is offense, she expects someone to break into her room at one point, either the Israelis or the media, so she leaves a fabricated note that conveniently incriminates you.”
The rabbi felt deflated. Silver’s theory was logical, but it didn’t reconcile with the Masada he knew.
Silver patted him on the shoulder. “Allow yourself to grieve in peace, my dear friend. Don’t worry about Masada and her crimes. The time will come for that, I promise you.”
Masada expected a punishing bump, but Colonel Ness managed a feathery touchdown. He had not said a word since ending their argument. After shutting off the engine, he turned to Tara. “Are you free for dinner tonight?”
“Well.” Tara tilted her head in feigned hesitation. “My schedule is quite tight.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven forty-five.”
“Make it eight.”
Ness pulled himself out of the helicopter into his wheelchair. They followed him to the parking lot. He rolled his chair onto the van. Masada noticed several antennas on the roof.
Back in Tara’s car, they followed the van as it merged into light traffic heading into the city.
Masada flexed her knee. The colonel had toyed with them, pretending he didn’t know Rabbi Josh. Was he toying with them now? She hoped he wasn’t. They needed a break.
Tara glanced at her. “You were a real bitch up there.”
“He deserved it.”
“Ex-lovers always deserve hell.”
“This whole place is hell.”
“Nonsense!” Tara laughed. “I love it here! What an incredible little country!”
“Are you drunk?”
“I’m serious! I expected Israelis to be rough and rude, but they’re really cool, definitely friendlier than any Europeans. And the technology and history and music, and all these handsome guys in uniform. I’m falling in love every five minutes!”
“I’m determined to continue to hate this place,” Masada said.
“So please don’t confuse me with the facts.”
Tara slapped her on the thigh. “Bad girl!”
At the intersection near the Central Bus Station, Ness turned left.
“He’s not going home.” Masada found a city map in the glove compartment. “We need a camera.”
“Funny you should say that.” Tara pulled out her phone. “I got a text message this morning from a cameraman who heard I’m in town.” She browsed down her message list. “Here it is: Oscar Photography and Video.”
Even though he had never been to Jerusalem before yesterday, its streets felt familiar to Rabbi Josh. Entering the Old City through the Jaffa Gate, he made his way through the market alleys by intuition. He followed their gentle descent, filling his lungs with the smoky, odorous air while the Arab vendors proclaimed their goods.
At the end of an alley he found stairs leading all the way down to the great plaza under the Wailing Wall.
The giant stones were still warm, even though the sun had descended behind the surrounding buildings. He joined a group for the afternoon prayer and swayed back and forth to the familiar tune. At the end, he recited the mourners’ Kaddish, and the strangers around him said, “Amen.”
He lingered near the Wall, reluctant to let go of the sense of peaceful familiarity.
“Good Sabbath,” a man said.
He looked left and right, finding no one.
“Down here.”
“Oh.” He recognized the elderly amputee who had laid a wreath at Raul’s funeral.
The man moved his wheelchair closer and shook the rabbi’s hand. “How are you?”
Rabbi Josh sat on a bench. “I must accept His decision.”
“Acceptance first, then a struggle to make sense of the loss, to find meaning in what has happened.”
The rabbi looked away. “It’s hard.”
“I know. My son flew an F-14 in Lebanon.”
“I’m sorry for you. But at least his death served a great purpose.”
“True, but somehow the pride doesn’t diminish the pain.” He passed a hand through his white hair. “You must be angry at the writer.”
“She didn’t press the trigger.” Rabbi Josh sighed.
“Words often stimulate the pressing of triggers.” The man’s blue eyes were unwavering, all-knowing. “Your loss foreshadows our nation’s loss. It’s too late to bring back the dead, but there’s still time to prevent the political disaster she is bringing upon us.”
“She’s not an ordinary writer.” The rabbi forced his
eyes away from the man’s penetrating gaze and looked up at the top of the Wailing Wall, where a soldier stood surveying the plaza. “She’s complicated.”
“Look at them.” Masada felt vindicated. “The master spy and his prized agent. Now you believe me?”
Tara peeked over the partition that separated women from men near the Wall. “They do seem chummy.”
“Where’s your cameraman?”
“I told him to look for a scruffy Brad Pit with a ponytail and a yarmulke.”
“Very funny.” Masada searched among the men near Ness and the rabbi. “The Orthodox will crucify him if he pulls out a camera before sunset. It’s still Sabbath.”
Tara moved away from the partition. “He’ll manage unless we blow our own cover.”
“We don’t have a cover.” Masada was already outlining in her mind the portion of the new article describing Rabbi Josh’s clandestine meeting with his Israeli handler, Colonel Dov Ness.
“They must be planning damage control for after the Senate approves the Fair Aid Act.”
“You’re naive. The Israelis will continue to work against it until the senate’s done voting.” Masada followed her, tailing a group of tourists. “Ness doesn’t give up. I mean, a normal amputee would be sitting at home, collecting disability and watching TV. This one’s flying helicopters and asking out blondes.”
Tara leaned closer and whispered, “He must have been a knockout in bed.”
“Hush! We’re at the Wailing Wall!”
They burst out laughing, drawing shocked glances from the tourists.
“I agree,” the man in the wheelchair said. “Masada El-Tal is a complicated woman.”
Rabbi Josh looked away. “She’s very different from the person portrayed by the media.”
“I knew Masada in the army. She was an incredible young woman.”
“You’re no government pensioner, are you?”
“I’m a concerned Zionist, like you.”
“I expected to be approached by someone from the government, but not someone like you.” The rabbi chuckled. “Anyway, Masada El-Tal was a member of my congregation. And a close friend. But I still don’t know whether she was the mastermind behind the bribe or a victim like me. The evidence points in both directions.” He gestured at the Wall. “I came here hoping for divine guidance.”
“If this is your dilemma, I can solve it. Masada is mentally incapable of manipulation or deceit.”
“But you’re capable of both.” Rabbi Josh felt a surge of anger. “Who are you … really?”
“I’m Colonel Dov Ness. Her former commander.”
“Why did you release her conviction to the media?”
“It’s not about me or Masada or you.” Colonel Ness leaned closer. “It’s about saving the Jewish state by finding who’s behind the bribe. You study Talmud, right?”
The rabbi nodded.
“Then you understand Talmudic logic about risk versus benefit. For Masada, the supposed benefit was revenge-if that’s her motivation. But she could achieve the same goal by writing critically of Israel, its policies, even its very existence. The risk of a criminal scheme, which could land her in federal jail forever, was disproportionally greater than the benefit. For the Israeli government, the benefit of a Mutual Defense Act would be miniscule compared with the risk of harming the relationship with the United States. Therefore, it would be illogical for Masada or the State of Israel to take the enormous risk of bribing a U.S. senator.”
“What seems illogical in hindsight may have seemed logical in foresight.”
“None of this has been an accident. There must be a person out there who planned it all, who controlled Al Zonshine, who knows why, how, and when this whole scheme was conceived and launched.”
“Masada?”
“Do you really believe it’s her?”
The rabbi wanted to nod, but he couldn’t. In his heart, he knew she was all good.
“You already know who that person is.”
“No.” Rabbi Josh stood. “I don’t.”
Ness looked up. “But you do, Rabbi. You don’t realize it, but you do.”
“I don’t!” His shout made a praying Hassid nearby pause and glance over.
“You do!” Ness rolled his wheelchair after the departing rabbi. “You just don’t want to see it. It’s too inconvenient.”
Masada and Tara waited at a bar for Oscar. He turned out to be a French-born Israeli with dark skin and a buzz cut, who fashioned a Hawaiian shirt. He showed them photos of Colonel Ness and Rabbi Josh-talking, arguing, the rabbi departing in anger. “No audio,” Oscar said, “too much background noise.”
“I didn’t see you at the Wall,” Masada said.
“That’s the whole point,” he answered.
It was almost midnight when she entered the Ramban Hostel. The acne-faced youth was still at the front desk, reading a book.
He handed Masada her room key and a blue sheet of paper. It was an invitation to a memorial service on Mount Masada.
By the time she reached her room, Masada had made up her mind not to go. Srulie’s memory lived with her every waking moment. She didn’t need patriotic songs and empty speeches to soil his memory.
While undressing, she noticed the beige pants had fallen off the hanger in the closet. She looked for the laundry bag, finding it on the bed, not where she’d left it that morning. And the scribbled napkin was crumpled on the floor. Had Ness sent someone to look through her stuff?
Sunday, August 17
They clamped Professor Silver’s head in a steel vise and strapped his arms, legs, and chest until he could only wiggle his toes. Trays of glistening instruments surrounded him. A masked orderly rolled in a cart with electronic equipment.
“Good morning, Professor.” Dr. Asaf put on grotesque goggles that peered at Silver with detached curiosity. “Ready for the big day?”
“Ready for a clear day.” Silver coughed, his throat suddenly dry.
The doctor nodded to the nurse, who stuck a needle in Silver’s arm.
“The last pain you’re going to feel today,” Dr. Asaf assured him.
It wasn’t pain Silver was worried about. The blotch had been growing every day, as if it knew its days were numbered.
“We’ll take good care of your eye.” The doctor’s lips curled into a smile, which didn’t look real under the protruding goggles.
A terrible thought came to Silver. What if he muttered in Arabic while asleep?
“After the procedure you might have minor discomfort in the eye or a slight headache. That’s normal while the macular area begins improving.”
He felt sleepy. Don’t speak Arabic!
Dr. Asaf’s goggles buzzed as the tiny lenses changed focus. “Good night, Professor.”
A spider with steel legs descended toward Silver’s eye.
“Eyelids spread starting at sixteen millimeter.” Dr. Asaf’s voice grew distant.
The spider landed on Silver’s eye.
“Widen the spread to thirty-two.”
The room darkened.
Coming out of the Ramban Hostel to meet Tara, Masada found a small crowd waiting at the front stairs. A bearded man in a yellow T-shirt and a colorful skullcap raised his hand in a mock salute. “Shalom!”
She scanned the street for Tara’s car.
“Senator Mitchum moved up the vote to tomorrow morning.” The bearded man showed her a printed page from Yahoo News. The U.S. Senate was going to begin the debate at 10:00 a.m. Washington time, which would be 5:00 p.m. Jerusalem time. Masada read the rest of the news report: Senator Mitchum intends to force a continuous debate on the Fair Aid Act. With most of the senators signing up to speak, Senate vote is expected to take place late into the night. The White House confirmed that the president will sign the bill promptly.
The crowd at the foot of the steps grew as pedestrians stopped to watch. A bus roared by, spewing blue fumes.
Masada handed back the paper. “What do you want from me?”
/> “We’re moving up the big rally. Lots of people are coming from all over. The central stage will be at the Jaffa Gate and we’d like you to speak.”
“Me?”
“You started it all. People want to hear what you have to say.”
Masada noticed Tara’s Subaru. She tried to go around the delegation.
The bearded man moved into her path. “By betraying Israel, America will bring its own downfall. The rise of Islam will swallow it. America will be gone like the Greeks, Romans, Babylonians, the Spanish and British empires.”
She pushed through and got into Tara’s car. As they drove off, she said, “I’m getting tired of this harassment. We need to expose Ness as soon as possible.”
Tara took the next left turn without slowing down. “What if he’s just trying to find out the truth, like you and me?”
“What if life was a box of chocolates?” Masada hit the dashboard. “Don’t you realize? Ness is the root evil of all this!”
“I think you have a Ness complex.”
“He’s a snake and a snake charmer combined, and I’m immune to both his venom and his charm.”
“Charming he is,” Tara agreed. “And you’re looking pretty good yourself. Glowing. What’s going on? Are you sleeping with someone?”
Masada sneered.
“It’s Brad Pitt, right?”
“You can have Rabbi Josh. I’m sleeping with myself, really sleeping for a change.” She lowered the window and breathed in the morning air. “I haven’t felt this good in a long time. The welling is gone, the bleeding stopped, even my knee’s painless.”
“Maybe Israel is good for you. Home sweet home.”
The idea made Masada uncomfortable. “How was last night’s candlelight dinner?”
“Romantic.” Tara shook her hair in mock seduction. “His wife is a great cook.”
“He took you home?”
The Masada Complex Page 31