by Menon, David
‘I take it you don’t share that view?’
‘There’d been enough killing, enough death. A British soldier who never asked to be sent to Palestine lost his life at the hands of my own father. It’s not how I wanted the state of Israel to be created. Hettie takes a different view. She thinks that if it’s all about creating a Jewish homeland then we shouldn’t have a conscience about who gets killed along the way’.
‘And if it’s all about creating a Palestinian homeland?’
‘Well then that’s different as far as she’s concerned’ said Yitzhak. ‘That’s terrorism’.
‘I thought it might be’
‘But please, don’t judge my poor wife Hettie as being some kind of hypocrite with double standards’ said Yitzhak, his voice sounding almost desperate.
‘It sounds to me like that’s exactly what she is’.
‘Detective, my family had it easy during the war. We were all here and safe. Most of Hettie’s family lost their lives in the Holocaust. She has more to be vengeful about’.
‘But only as long as the right people are targeted for that vengeance, surely?’
‘We are not on trial here, detective’ said Yitzhak.
‘So tell me who is?’
‘His name is Gerald Hill’ said Yitzhak. ‘His grandfather was on patrol with the British soldier who was abducted by my father. He was his friend. He was his comrade. Apparently he always felt guilty because he got away and his comrade didn’t’.
‘And how do you know all this?’
‘Because Gerald Hill came to my door one day’ said Yitzhak who then turned and opened a drawer. He took out a file which he placed on the table between himself and Sara. ‘Please read it’.
‘What is it?’ asked Sara as she picked it up and opened it.
‘It’s a file I have on Gerald Hill, the grandson of Archie Hill. Gerald Hill has been harassing us for quite some time’.
‘Harassing you in what way?’
‘Well you can see there the letters he sent’ said Yitzhak.
Sara picked up the pile of letters and immediately saw that they were in the same format as those received by the MP, Craig Sutherland. Letters for each word had been cut out of magazines and newspapers. One said ‘Jews – Good Old Hitler’ and another said ‘Jews are sin’.
‘Those were the same kind of slogans that were used in the riots back in 1947’ said Yitzhak.
‘And how did you know this was the work of Gerald Hill?’
‘Because, like I said, he turned up on our doorstep one day, brazen as anything, told us who he was and how his grandfather had been there when my father abducted his friend and comrade. He said that I was going to pay for the psychological suffering his grandfather endured’.
‘But why, suddenly out of the blue like that?’
‘I don’t know the answer to that’.
‘Well do you know anything about him? Like where he lives for instance?’
‘No, detective’ said Yitzhak who was suddenly feeling all of his years on this earth.
‘No?’
‘No. I didn’t look into the man at all’.
‘But Mr. Goldstein, why didn’t you tell us about this before?’ Sara wanted to know, feeling exasperated at the man’s recklessness.
Yitzhak shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m the victim. Why should I make your job easier?’
God give me strength, thought Sara. How could he have kept such potentially vital information to his bloody self? She’d been right to follow her hunch and come down here but she hadn’t expected to get quite such a big result from it.
‘Mr. Goldstein, this is important information on a case and you deliberately withheld it. Do you realise how much trouble that could get you in?’
‘I refer you back to what I’ve just said’.
‘Your attitude is not only disturbing, it’s bizarre’ said Sara. ‘We’re not just talking about your case here. This could have a bearing on another case we’re investigating too and I’m taking this file with me’.
‘I’m too old to object’.
‘Mr. Goldstein, I won’t take any action this time’ said Sara. ‘But if I find that you’ve withheld anymore evidence that would be useful to us then I’ll have to reconsider that decision. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Crystal, detective’ said Yitzhak. ‘Absolutely crystal’.
‘I hope so, Mr. Goldstein, because I don’t care how old a person is. If they’ve committed a crime then they should pay the price. Thanks for the coffee. I’ll be in touch’.
*
Alec Heath was delighted when Craig Sutherland accepted his request for an interview. It took some of the heat off pursuing other current stories and it seemed like a relatively safe bet even though Craig was being subjected to a series of pretty horrible threats.
‘You’ve got no idea who it might be?’ asked Alec.
‘None at all’ Craig answered. They were sitting together on the sofa in Craig’s private office. ‘I’ve checked with some of my colleagues and they’re not getting anything like this at the minute. Whoever it is has singled me out for a reason but when you’re in politics it could be to do with any number of issues’.
‘But could that point to it being one of your constituents?’
‘Well that’s the most likely source, yes’ said Craig.
‘And how do you feel about that?’
Craig looked out of the window as he thought. ‘They must feel very strongly about their issue to go to these lengths. But it’s still a worry for me and my staff obviously’.
‘Compassion can only go so far’.
‘Well these are criminal acts so yes is the answer to that’ said Craig. ‘But one thing we’ve decided is that we’re not going to let it alter the way we do politics. We’ll continue to have our public opening times, with police protection, and we’re a lot more careful about opening the letters. Anything that looks suspicious is handed straight to the police’.
‘Standing firm against the threat’.
‘Letting whoever it is know that we’re not going to be intimidated’ said Craig. ‘From Iraq to fox hunting to Europe to who’s to blame for the budget deficit. It could be any of the more contentious issues or it could be all of them. The biggest concern though is over how much this individual knows about me and my life. Does he know where I live for example?’
‘Do you have a message for them if they were reading this?’
‘Yes’ said Craig. ‘We live in a democracy and if you have any complaints or grievances you should come and see me about them. And if your complaint is specifically about me then leave my staff out of it’.
‘And now you’ve been told that your seat here in Manchester North is disappearing at the next general election because of the boundary changes to the constituencies that are being introduced’.
‘Yes, it’s an unsettling time, I have to say’ Craig admitted.
‘And I understand you can’t seek the nomination in either of the seats created by the disappearance of this one because for Labour they’re all women shortlists?’
‘That’s correct’.
‘But you must feel somewhat put out by that?’
‘I do, yes’ Craig admitted. ‘I’m being denied access to two nominations simply on the grounds of my gender. Don’t get me wrong I want a more representative parliament but I’ve got one of the highest attendance records of any MP, I’ve got one of the lowest expenses claim records, and since I was first elected I’ve worked hard for the people of Manchester North and increased my majority at each subsequent election’.
‘Sounds like you’re pretty aggrieved about the whole thing?’
‘Wouldn’t you be in my position?’
‘What about the issue of equality and more representation of women?’
‘Look, we do need more women in parliament, of course we do, but we also need more people from a more diverse set of backgrounds. All women shortlists are all very well but if we’re not careful we’ll just
be replacing jobs for the boys with jobs for the girls as the pendulum swings way too far in the other direction. There are people out there who feel they’re not listened to or catered for in modern Britain and they include both men and women’.
‘Do you think you’ve been set up?’
Craig sat back and thought for a moment. He knew Alec Heath and liked him but he was a journalist ever eager to find the fault lines within the Labour party. But Craig also knew that he’d already landed himself in it with his remarks about all women shortlists so he thought he may as well get hung for a pound as a shilling. Besides, the Labour party machine didn’t deserve his loyalty after the way he’d been shafted right royal without lubrication. They could fuck off.
‘I think that some people wanted me out because I don’t always tow the party line and I don’t sound like I’ve just come off the conveyor belt at the Labour party candidate factory. I listen to some of our up and coming candidates and they sound like they’ve just memorised everything on the party website. They don’t speak with conviction or passion or heart and soul. They just mouth off figures and statistics’.
‘So what makes you different?’
‘Well, let’s take the issue of people in prison’ said Craig. ‘A high proportion of serving prisoners are either illiterate or have very poor reading and writing skills. Now it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that we need to spend money on educating those people and to recognise that as a way of reducing re-offending because we’d be making them more attractive to the jobs market when they get out. But to advocate that doesn’t have any electoral appeal beyond a few middle class intellectuals and education professionals’.
‘There are no hard votes in it’.
‘No, because the majority of people out there are under the gross misapprehension that prisons are like holiday camps. What I’m saying here is that we’re too concerned with only saying what we think people want to hear and we’re so scared of having debate both within and outside the party. It’s crippling the political process and hiding some basic truths about where we need to go as a society because it’s making politicians sound completely out of touch. We do need to extend the opportunity of becoming involved in politics to a much wider social base. We need people in parliament who come from the kind of communities where parents have to make a choice between feeding themselves and feeding their kids or between paying the gas bill and buying badly needed shoes for their eldest. Poverty is a trap that people have fallen into for a variety of reasons but we’ve got to get them out of it for the sake of the next generation and it is only Labour that can do that because it’s where our conviction for politics comes from’.
‘It sounds like recent events have fired you up, Craig?’
‘I was always fired up to do what I believe to be right, Alec’ said Craig. ‘Nothing has changed on that score’.
‘So what does the future hold in store for Craig Sutherland?’
‘Well I have a job until the next general election when my seat disappears’ said Craig. ‘After that I’ve really no idea’.
‘You sound too passionate to give up politics’.
‘Yeah, I know, it’s been a curse all through my life’.
*
Sara and Tim were sitting in her office looking over the prints taken from the CCTV footage of the two men seen shooting Faisal Hussein and abducting Robert Jackson. They were both frustrated that they hadn’t been able to identify either of them and neither had any of the other law enforcement agencies they’d sent them out to, such as Interpol.
‘Somebody knows who they are’ said Tim.
‘Yes’ said Sara. ‘And that’s why I’ve been able to persuade Superintendent Hargreaves to go public with these prints at a news conference although it’s on the strict condition that it’s solely about the abduction and murder of Robert Jackson, the murders of Melanie Sanders, Jim Mortimer and Stefan Wright, and the disappearance of James Henderson. Their apparent involvement in the shooting of Faisal Hussein will not be mentioned. I’ve had to go along with that although it goes against my better judgement’.
‘Hargreaves is being leaned on’ said Tim.
‘Probably, but why?’
‘That’s what we’ve yet to work out’.
‘Well at least the press conference will be something’ said Sara. ‘Even though I strongly suspect that those same two individuals were responsible for the murder of Andy Masters. But we’ll get justice for him, Tim. You know how determined I am to get that. We will get to the truth on Andy and everything else’.
‘I know’ said Tim. ‘Do you think you should’ve brought Yitzhak Goldstein in and cautioned him?’
‘No but I’m sure he’s hiding something’ said Sara. ‘That’s why I’ve got a warrant to search the house. Do you fancy coming with me?’
FIFTEEN
Hettie Goldstein reacted hysterically to four uniformed police officers searching her home. ‘You’ve got no right!’ she kept on screaming.
‘We do have the right, Mrs. Goldstein’ said Sara, firmly. She was used to carrying out searches like this under duress. Sara’s instincts had rarely let her down but there was always that sense of dread that they’d have to walk away without finding anything. ‘And if you calm down and co-operate then it will be over a lot quicker and without all the unnecessary stress you’re heaping upon yourself’.
‘You’re singling us out just because we’re Jews!’
‘I can assure you we’re not doing that, Mrs. Goldstein’ said Tim.
‘Then what do you hope to achieve by putting us through all this? What could you possibly be looking for?’
Sara turned to Yitzhak Goldstein who’d been watching his wife’s mounting distress with anxiety. ‘Ask your husband, Mrs. Goldstein. He knows why we’re here’.
‘Don’t talk rubbish!’ Hettie dismissed. ‘Yitzhak is an old man. Why are you picking on him? Why are you picking on us?’
‘We’re not picking on you, Mrs. Goldstein’ Sara insisted, more firmly than before.
‘You’re anti-Semitic dirt!’
‘Mrs. Goldstein, that’s enough’ said Tim. ‘I appreciate it’s difficult but we wouldn’t be here unless we thought we had good reason’.
‘ ... picking on elderly and upright members of the Jewish community when it’s the Muslim terrorists who’ve destroyed the peaceful atmosphere in this city’.
Sara decided to cut Hettie Goldstein off and looked at Yitzhak. ‘You’re very quiet, Mr. Goldstein. Anything you want to tell me before any discovery forces your hand?’
Hettie stood next to her husband in an obvious show of solidarity. ‘You’re unbelievable! You have absolutely no respect’.
‘Ma’am? Sir?’ called the uniformed officer from upstairs. ‘Think you’d better take a look at this’.
Sara asked one of the other uniformed officers to sit with the Goldsteins in their lounge and wait until she and Tim came back down.
‘You’re no better than the Gestapo’ Hettie snarled as she watched them make for the stairs. ‘This is like being back in Germany in the 1930’s. You’re hounding innocent people just because they’re Jewish’.
When they came back down Tim placed a large cardboard box down on the coffee table.
‘These were found in your attic so I’d be careful about using the word innocent if I was you’ said Sara. She removed the cotton sheet that had been folded up and placed on the top. ‘Care to explain?’
Inside the box were two handguns, small enough to conceal on a person but deadly enough to have the required effect.
Hettie Goldstein gasped with a mixture of horror and shock. ‘How long have they been there? Yitzhak? What’s going on?’
‘Do either of you have licenses for these?’ Sara asked.
‘No, detective’ said Yitzhak, solemnly. ‘But that’s all I’m prepared to say other than that Hettie knows absolutely nothing about this’.
‘About what?’ Hettie demanded. ‘Yitzhak, what have you done?’<
br />
‘Yes, Mr. Goldstein, what have you done?’
‘I only wish to repeat, detective, that my wife knows nothing’.
Hettie’s face was etched in anguish as she tried to fathom out what the hell her husband had been hiding from her.
‘I’m going to have to take you both in, I’m afraid’.
‘Yitzhak!’ Hettie screamed. ‘Yitzhak, tell them to go away and leave us alone!’
‘Mr. Goldstein, I was lenient before and I won’t be making that mistake again so if you could please explain to your wife, I’d be grateful’.
Yitzhak turned to his dear, darling wife and the hurt in her eyes broke his heart. ‘My darling Hettie, please do as they say and we’ll both be home very soon, I promise’.
‘Oh my God, what will the neighbours say? They’re all our friends, oh Yitzhak, this is terrible, just terrible’.
‘Like I said, Hettie, ... ‘
‘ ... I said I wanted you to do something! I didn’t say I wanted guns in the house!’
*
‘Who the hell would they be harbouring guns for?’ exclaimed Tim as he drove himself and Sara back to the station. The Goldsteins had gone in the company of uniformed officers.
‘Who the hell is he, Yitzhak, harbouring them for?’ Sara countered. ‘Do you believe his wife had nothing to do with it?’
‘Well we heard her say that she’d asked her husband to do something’ said Tim. ‘She may not have cared less what he did as long as she didn’t have to see the evidence’.
‘It’s a good point, I’ll grant you’ said Sara. ‘But we’ve dealt with octogenarian villains before, remember?’
‘Lady Carrington and Dieter Naumann?’
‘That’s them’.
‘I won’t forget them in a hurry’.
*
Sara and Tim went into the interview room and sat at the table opposite Yitzhak Goldstein. Also present was the Goldsteins family solicitor, Solomon Levy, a tall, rather imposing man who had the size of girth that suggested he always left a clean plate after every meal. It was a shame, thought Sara. He was only in his late forties and had the kind of open, handsome face that women would still notice. Some men’s looks age well but then an admirer’s eyes would move down and be put off by the growing forward extension of their belly. Her Jacob had filled out more than in the photographs she’d seen of him when he was younger but he certainly hadn’t started to go to seed like Solomon Levy.