Chosen People

by Robert Whitlow

  “If you like spicy food, I recommend the zhajiangmian,” Daud said.

  Hana was familiar with the dish containing thick wheat noodles, chili bean sauce, French beans, and sweet soybean sauce. This version featured tofu instead of meat.

  “May we talk business first?” Hana asked after they ordered.

  “Yes.”

  “I found out why a prosecutor with the US Attorney’s Office in New York called my boss.” She told Daud about the link between Sahir Benali and Sylvia Armstrong.

  “Would that explain why he didn’t want to meet with me because new circumstances came up?” she asked when she finished.

  “Maybe.”

  Hana paused as another thought crossed her mind. “Did you scare him away?” she asked, leaning forward.

  “Not exactly.” Daud smiled. “But I encouraged him to move aside so I could help you. I’ll make it up to him. Sahir is a good guy and has plenty of business.”

  “There’s more background you need to know,” Hana said. She then told him about the attack on Jakob, the phosphorous device that destroyed his car, and the misbaha beads he found in the bushes. Their food arrived. Hana devoured the cold salad. Daud was ambidextrous with the chopsticks.

  “It looks like he’s being targeted,” Hana said as she pushed her salad bowl to the side and turned toward the zhajiangmian.

  Daud ate a bite of his zhajiangmian before he spoke. “A terrorist group might have the capability to do that if they wanted to devote resources to the effort, but it seems unlikely unless they believed Brodsky was close to uncovering something they very much wanted to keep hidden.”

  “I doubt it,” Hana replied. “I know everything Jakob does about the case.”

  “How can you be sure about that?”

  “We’re cocounsel,” Hana said, realizing that wasn’t very persuasive.

  “If he’s already a target of a terrorist cell, it would be best if it appears that he’s acting alone until you’re ready to go public with the case,” Daud said. “I wouldn’t want him to let anyone know that I’ve been hired or the names of any of the people we eventually interview here in Israel or the West Bank. They talk to me because they know they can do so safely.”

  “I’ll mention that to him.”

  “With emphasis.”

  “Okay.”

  “I found out more about Tawfik Zadan,” Daud continued. “He’s not been in jail since serving time for the Neumann murder, and he lives in a family house in Deir Dibwan. Finding someone in the Deir Dibwan area who doesn’t like Tawfik, due to either jealousy or an unrelated feud, would be a possibility. They might pass along a rumor that turns out to be more real than the typical conspiracy theory swirling around on the street.”

  “How would you find such a person?” Hana asked.

  “I may have to spend a little money to make that happen.”

  “Okay, but we don’t want any bribes to governmental officials that—”

  “Please,” Daud cut her off. “Trust me to do the right thing.”

  Hana nodded. She then told him about her contacting Yamout News and the trip to the police station. When she mentioned the photos, her tears returned.

  “I’m sorry,” Daud said gently. “I was planning on doing that after you returned to America.”

  “I would have seen them eventually,” Hana said and sighed. “The pictures will speak louder than words if the case ends up in a courtroom.”

  They ate in silence for a few moments.

  “I’m ready to talk about something besides business,” Daud suggested.

  “Yes!” Hana said.

  Daud asked Hana more questions about her life. He told her about a group of men he regularly met with to pray and read the Scriptures.

  “They’re guys I can be completely honest with,” he said.

  “Do they know about me?”

  “Sure, and they’re praying for both of us.”

  They finished the meal with lotus seed paste for dessert.

  “I’d like to come back here,” Hana said. “There are several other dishes on the menu that look delicious and sound interesting.”

  “I’m glad you liked it. What is your time line for a return trip?”

  “I haven’t confirmed anything with Mr. Lowenstein, but I’m thinking a month. Would that give you enough time to set things up? I know it’s impossible to predict.”

  “That’s reasonable,” Daud said. “I don’t have any major assignments on my agenda.”

  “Assignments?”

  “Cases. Which means I can devote a lot of time to the Neumann matter.”

  “You’re only charging half your usual rate!” Hana protested. “I don’t feel right about that.”

  Daud smiled. “But it’s worth it to me.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Jakob spent the evening on his couch watching a Russian soccer match. Checking his office email before going to bed, he saw a memo Hana had sent earlier in the evening. As he read about her investigation and the conversations with Sylvia Armstrong and Daud Hasan, Jakob’s desire to get into the middle of the case increased. He checked his calendar for the dates when Hana mentioned returning to Israel. There was nothing on his docket that would prevent him from joining her.

  The following morning Emily drove Jakob to the neurologist’s office.

  “I have one of the first appointments of the day and hope I won’t have to wait long,” he said when they arrived.

  “No problem.”

  Jakob checked in at the front desk. A few minutes later an assistant took him to an examining room. Dr. Bedford came in shortly.

  “How are you feeling?” the physician asked.

  Jakob raised his right hand in the air as if taking an oath. “No problems. I’ve had one bad headache that came on after my car was totally destroyed in a fire.”

  “I thought you weren’t driving.”

  “I’m not. The car was at my mechanic’s garage.”

  The neurologist checked the side of Jakob’s skull. The knots were almost gone. While performing a physical exam, he ran through a series of questions about Jakob’s mental status.

  “You’re looking stable, but come back to see me in thirty days.”

  Jakob hesitated. “I may be out of the country on a business trip around that time,” he said.

  “Where?”

  “Israel. Is that okay?”

  The doctor raised his eyebrows. “Yes, unless you have a fainting spell or mini seizure before then. If you do go, be careful in more ways than one. Keep your stress level low.”

  Outside, Emily had moved her car to a spot beneath a large shade tree. “That was quick,” she said when Jakob returned.

  “Good news and bad news,” Jakob replied.

  “What?”

  “Good news is that I’m much better. Bad news is that I still have to hire a driver for at least another month.”

  “One man’s bad news can be another woman’s good news,” Emily said with a smile.

  “And the doctor told me to maintain my current low-stress routine.”

  “Good luck with that,” Emily said as she put the car in reverse and zoomed out of the parking space.

  Daud insisted on taking Hana to the airport, so she returned her rental vehicle in Jerusalem. It was a sunny morning, and they merged into the steady stream of morning traffic that ran between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Hana found herself taking pleasure in the simple act of riding in Daud’s vehicle with him behind the wheel.

  “How often do you want to stay in touch?” he asked in Arabic.

  Hana glanced out the window for a moment as she considered her response. She was missing Daud even though still with him.

  “As much as you like,” she answered simply.

  Daud glanced at her. “Based on how I feel, that would be a lot,” he said.

  A smile creased Hana’s lips and remained there. She saw Daud look at her and smile, too. She hoped the expression on her face communicated what she felt in he
r heart. They engaged in small talk during the remainder of the ride to the airport. Daud pulled up to the curb and quickly got out to retrieve her suitcase.

  “Thanks for everything,” Hana said.

  Daud reached out his right hand with his palm up, and Hana placed her hand in his. He placed his left hand on top of hers. Never in her life had Hana felt more accepted and secure with a man than at that moment.

  “You know I will be thinking about you every day and looking forward to seeing you again,” Daud said.

  Hana was glad he was holding her hand because she suddenly felt wobbly. She placed her other hand on top of his. “And I’m going to remember this moment when I think about you,” she said.

  With a final gentle squeeze, Daud released her hand. Not wanting to look back, Hana grabbed her suitcase and rolled it into the airport. Once she was through the doors she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder. Daud had remained in the same place with his eyes glued on her. She waved.

  Due to the prevailing winds at thirty-eight thousand feet, the return flight from Israel to the United States is always over an hour longer than the flight in the other direction. The tiny plane tracking their progress on the world screen moved forward in infinitesimal increments. Hana was restless. Her seatmates both took pills and fell asleep shortly after takeoff. Wide awake, Hana tried to watch a movie, but it didn’t hold her interest. She tried to read but couldn’t concentrate. After several hours, she attempted to nap and failed. By the time the plane landed in Newark, she was exhausted. After a short layover, she boarded a flight to Atlanta and caught an hour’s fitful sleep.

  Upon disembarking, it was too late to pick up Leon at the doggie day care center, so Hana drove straight home. When her head hit her pillow, she fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake up in the middle of the night.

  Up early and feeling better than he had at any time since the attack at Butch’s apartment, Jakob went out for a walk. There was access to a greenway nearby, and he joined a throng of walkers and joggers making their way along the shaded path through a grove of hardwoods and a smattering of pines. Jakob walked at a brisk pace. North Atlanta rises from the banks of the Chattahoochee River, and the path followed the undulating terrain. As he reached the top of a small hill, a break in the tree line provided a narrow overlook toward the downtown area of the city. Jakob stepped off the path to look at the skyscrapers framed by leafy branches.

  The contrast between the leaves and the buildings, the beauty of nature and the accomplishments of man, caused a moment of reflection. Jakob had never thought much about mortality or the fragility of life, but the events of the past weeks were enough to get anyone’s attention. On at least two occasions, he could have died. Jakob held no firm beliefs about anything beyond what he wanted to accomplish in the time organized on his computer calendar. But for the first time in his adult life, he wondered if he should. After lingering a few extra minutes, he turned for home. This time, he walked at a much slower pace.

  Hana lay in bed an extra thirty minutes so she could wake up slowly. She already missed her family, Israel, and Daud. Brief homesickness always marked her return to the United States, but the addition of Daud to the mix and her hopes for their future relationship made this time different.

  Stretching once again, she got out of bed and fixed a strong cup of coffee. While sipping it, she checked on Leon. The puppy was already hard at play. Even though she’d been away only a few days, he seemed bigger. Hana looked forward to the end of the day when she could pick him up and bring him home. Janet glanced up excitedly when Hana arrived.

  “Knowing you’d be here kept me from calling in sick,” the assistant said.

  “Are you feeling bad?” Hana asked in concern.

  “No, but it kept me from pretending that I was so I could be first in line for a big sale at my favorite clothing store.” Janet leaned forward. “It was almost cruel reading the few lines you sent me about Daud Hasan. Kind of like giving a woman who hasn’t had a drink of water for three days a few drops on the tip of her tongue.”

  Hana laughed. “If you’re that desperate, I need to satisfy your curiosity before I start billing any of our clients. I have one photo of us together and can show you several others from social media.”

  The two women went into Hana’s office and closed the door. Forty-five minutes later a satisfied Janet stood to leave.

  “I was wrong,” the assistant said. “As a woman, you knew love at first sight was in your future, and I shouldn’t have doubted your intuition.”

  “I didn’t say we are going to get married.”

  “Details, details,” Janet replied with a wave of her hand. “Daud is an idiot and doesn’t deserve you if he lets you slip away. I especially like his old-school approach to romance. I bet he’d throw his jacket on top of a mud puddle so you wouldn’t have to get your shoes dirty.”

  Hana smiled. “Yes, I think he would, too.”

  Mr. Lowenstein was out of the office until after lunch, which gave Hana time to work on her backlog of other cases. As she returned to the flow of her office routine, the longing for home began to subside, but when it was time to slip away for a quick lunch, her appetite led her to Mahmoud Akbar’s restaurant. The owner rewarded her with a huge smile as soon as he saw her standing at the counter.

  “What do you want today?” he asked. “Order anything on the menu and it’s on the house.”

  Hana gave him a puzzled look.

  “Your food is free,” the restaurant owner explained. “Your American English is so good that sometimes I forget you may not know all our slang.”

  “I’ll be glad to pay—”

  “No,” Mr. Akbar said as he raised his hand and leaned over the counter. “God has heard your prayers. Gadi is coming home. My fears were real. He left America to join a militant group, but once he saw how they treated one another, he came to his senses.”

  “That’s great,” Hana said with heartfelt relief. “Where is he now?”

  “In Paris for a few days visiting my brother’s family. He’ll return to Atlanta next week.”

  Hana wanted to join in the celebration without reservation, but she couldn’t shake a nagging concern. “I’ll feel better when he’s with you,” she said.

  Mr. Akbar nodded. “You and my wife agree. Now, tell me what you want to eat.”

  “Your manakish with minced lamb is the best,” Hana said, referring to a flatbread topped with cheese, thyme, oregano, toasted sesame seeds, spices, and ground meat. It was similar to a pizza.

  “Don’t you want something more expensive? I have a perfect lamb rack.”

  “No, no, that’s too fancy for lunch. Seeing your smiling face is the best thing on the menu.”

  While she ate the manakish, Hana prayed that Gadi would completely separate himself from militant Islam, not only in the Middle East but in the United States as well. Her phone vibrated. It was a text from Daud asking how she was doing. She took a picture of the meal and sent it to him. He immediately replied:

  I would eat that manakish. Take me there.

  Imagining Daud in the restaurant transformed it into another place. Hana answered:

  I would like that.

  Hana spent the rest of the meal messaging with the investigator. None of it had to do with business. Returning to the office, she continued plowing her way through a project for Mr. Collins.

  Shortly after two o’clock, Janet buzzed her. “You told me to let you know when Mr. Lowenstein was in his office. Gladys says he’s there and available for a few minutes if you go now.”

  After saving her work, Hana made her way to the senior partner’s office. He was wearing a gray suit and sporting a green bow tie. He motioned for her to sit down. “I read your memos,” he said. “Sounds like you hit the ground running.”

  “Yes, I was busy.”

  “And you really like this Hasan guy?”

  Surprised, Hana paused before responding. “In what way?”

  “As an investigat
or, of course,” Mr. Lowenstein answered. “How in the world did you convince him to cut his fee in half? If you can do that consistently, I have a few cases that need your magic touch.”

  “It was his idea.”

  “Why?”

  Hana made a split-second decision to keep the personal side of the situation out of the discussion. “Primarily because it’s a case he wants to handle. I’m sure it’s more important than some of his other work.”

  “What kind of work?”

  Hana realized she and Daud hadn’t discussed that topic. “General investigation,” she offered.

  “Okay,” Mr. Lowenstein replied. “I agree with your returning to Israel in a month. That’s a reasonable plan that can be modified if circumstances dictate.”

  “With Jakob Brodsky?” Hana asked.

  “Yeah,” Mr. Lowenstein replied dismissively. “But only if you keep it from being a tourist junket for him. I question whether he can bring anything substantive to the table.”

  “We’ll work on that.”

  “In the meantime, make sure you keep Jim Collins happy. He considers you on loan to me from his group.”

  “I’ve worked exclusively on his projects since I returned this morning.”

  After leaving Mr. Lowenstein’s office and working until five, Hana was feeling the effects of jet lag and left the office. She stopped by to pick up Leon, who had received two As, two Bs, and one C on his doggie day care report card. His low mark was for a relapse in potty training.

  “Do you have any problems with him at home?” the young woman checking him out asked.

  “No,” Hana replied with the defensiveness of a mother whose child is criticized by a kindergarten teacher.

  “I hope his bad habits here don’t spill over,” the woman responded.

  Leon greeted Hana with loving exuberance. During the car ride home, he licked her hand every time she reached over to pat him. He did his business in the yard without a hiccup. Both woman and dog went to sleep early.

  CHAPTER 25

  The following afternoon, Jakob cleaned off his desk in preparation for a meeting with Hana and Ben. Maddie buzzed him to report they’d arrived. He greeted Hana with a Hebrew phrase he’d memorized.