The Jerusalem Assassin

by Avraham Azrieli

  The hajj held the door for the prince, and they stepped outside into the bright sun. A black limousine was waiting at the bottom of the steps to drive him to the plane.

  “ Have a safe trip, Excellency. May Allah-”

  “Don’t mention Allah!” Prince Abusalim shook a fist in the hajj’s face, realizing too late that it was his injured hand, which now pulsated with pain. “You’re a slave who forgot his place!”

  Hajj Ibn Saroah bowed and walked back to the house.

  As soon as the Lear jet began taxiing down the runway, Prince Abusalim pulled off the kafiya and galabiya and threw them on the floor. He sat in his underwear on the wide chair and yelled, “Come here!”

  An attendant walked in and blushed at the sight of the prince.

  “Jack Daniel’s!”

  “Excellency, we are not out of Saudi airspace yet-”

  “On the rocks! And bring the bottle!”

  *

  In Jerusalem, the day of study for Neturay Karta men didn’t end until close to midnight. The last group left the synagogue, still arguing about a Talmudic question of animal sacrifice, which had occupied them since that morning: Would one cow satisfy the collective sacrificial obligations at the temple on the Passover holiday or was each pilgrim required to bring his own animal for slaughter at the altar?

  Along in the silent synagogue, Rabbi Gerster turned off the lights, locked the front doors, and went out into the cold night. He walked down to the gate and turned right. Halfway up Shivtay Israel Street, a car flashed its headlights. He got in.

  “Almost gave up on you.” Itah Orr wore a scarf over her head, tied loosely under her chin.

  “I didn’t want anyone to notice me leaving.”

  “ How did it go with Ayala?”

  “ Very well. She’s a lovely young woman. We need to take a look at former boyfriend, Yoni Adiel, also a law student at Bar Ilan. Apparently he suggested that the Talmudic law of Rodef applies to politicians who hand over parts of the land of Israel to the Arabs.”

  “ That’s all? He’s not the only one making this argument. I don’t have time to go around engaging right wingers in theological debates. It’s a waste of time.”

  “The girl says he’s got money to spend but no regular job and no family support. He hinted that the funds came from a rich sponsor who likes Freckles.”

  “ Who’s the sponsor?”

  “ She only knew that he was an elderly man living in Paris.” Rabbi Gerster suspected Elie Weiss was that sponsor, but that was not a name he would mention to anyone. “But the combination of cash and know-how in guerilla resistance, such as the ILOT manual you gave me, indicates a high level of competency. Go to your sources and find out everything possible about Yoni Adiel.”

  “If you’re right,” Itah said, “this story might be much bigger than a group of right-wing youths harassing a few Arabs.”

  “Follow the money. That’s the key.” He opened the door to leave, but shut it when the interior light came on. “Have you heard from Freckles? Anything going on with ILOT?”

  “ He told me to attend the large Likud rally at the Zion Square on Saturday night.”

  “ If these guys have money for girlfriends, restaurants, and handguns, they could afford more serious weapons.”

  “I’ll make some calls and let you know.”

  “Good. Once we have the facts, I’ll corner Yoni Adiel.”

  “ Why would he talk to you?”

  “ He’s a fundamentalist Jew. You think he would pass up an opportunity to talk shop with Rabbi Abraham Gerster of Neturay Karta-”

  “- who doesn’t believe in God?” Itah grinned in the darkness.

  “ Shush.” He put his finger to his lips. “That’s our secret.”

  *

  Monday, October 23, 1995

  At the Hilton in Paris, Elie took the elevator down to the lobby and found a bank of pay phones near the restrooms. He called the Hoffgeitz Bank in Zurich and asked for Gunter Schnell.

  “ Guten Morgen, Herr Schnell,” Elie said.

  “ Who is this?”

  “ Untersturmfuhrer Rupert Danzig. Remember me?”

  The sound of air sucked in a shocked inhalation was followed by a long silence. “Please hold.”

  After a few minutes, two clicks sounded, and another voice came on. “Armande Hoffgeitz speaking. What is this about?”

  “ Herr President?” Elie waited for a couple of hotel guests to pass by on their way to the restrooms. “This is Untersturmfuhrer Rupert Danzig.”

  “ Who?”

  “ It’s been a long time, but here I am again, calling on behalf of your old friend, Oberstgruppenfuhrer Klaus von Koenig.” Elie spoke German with an eastern accent, an area until recently under Soviet communist control.

  “ That’s impossible!” The banker’s voice was shaking. “I don’t know who you are!”

  “ I think you do, Herr Hoffgeitz.”

  “ Do not call here!”

  “ But surely you want to hear from dear Klaus, yes?”

  “ I will summon the police! This is Zurich, not some lawless East German province!”

  “ The police?” Elie chuckled. “Perhaps you should consult your lawyers before contacting the authorities. Even Swiss law forbids misappropriation of clients’ funds. It’s a serious felony.”

  “ How dare you! This bank has never lost a deposit from any client-”

  “ Including Klaus von Koenig?” Elie didn’t expect a response. “If anyone should call the police, it should be me, don’t you think?”

  There was a loud bang as if someone hit the desk in frustration.

  “Very good,” Elie said. “Please make sure the records are in good order for my inspection. I will see you soon. Auf Wiedersehen!”

  *

  After dropping Klaus Junior off at school, Lemmy drove to the bank. As he climbed the stairs, Gunter was coming down, his face ashen. “Gunter? Are you feeling ill?”

  “Ah, Herr Horch.” He paused, looked up toward the next floor, and continued on his way down, mumbling something incoherent.

  Christopher was at his desk. “Prince Abusalim az-Zubayr called. He just landed in Paris. He’ll call from his hotel.”

  Lemmy went into his office and shut the door. “Here we go,” he said out loud. He called the Hilton in Paris and asked for Rupert Danzig’s room.

  After a few rings, a woman answered. “Who is this?” She said it as an Israeli, and he assumed she was the agent he’d seen by the Galeries Lafayette.

  “ I’d like to speak with E.W. please.”

  “ E.W. is out right now,” she said, switching to English with an even sharper Israeli accent. “A message?”

  “ Tell him that the prince has landed.”

  “ Thank you.” She hung up.

  The computer completed its boot-up process. After two separate pass codes, the live video menu appeared with the list of the cameras: On the third floor, the interior of Herr Hoffgeitz’s office and the anteroom with Gunter’s desk, on the second floor, Christopher’s desk just outside Lemmy’s door, and on the first floor, the large room where the account managers worked. Each camera was smaller than a fingernail, built into a smoke detector, together with a pin-sized microphone. His computer was set up by the Dutch specialist to operate all cameras remotely.

  He selected Herr Hoffgeitz’s office.

  The chair at the desk was vacant, the office quiet. Lemmy used the arrows on his keyboard to turn the camera left and right.

  No sign of his father-in-law.

  As his finger reached to hit the escape button, Lemmy heard an odd sound, like an abrupt whizzing. He moved the camera again, searching the empty office. At the bottom of the screen a black object appeared. It grew as he aimed the camera lower, closer to the door.

  A shoe.

  The whizzing sounded again.

  Lemmy made the camera shift to the right. A face appeared. Armande Hoffgeitz was on the floor, his eyes closed. He breathed with a whizzing.
>
  This would be Armande’s fourth heart attack, Lemmy thought. A few more minutes and he would be dead of natural causes-no need to plan and execute a job or fight Elie over it.

  He closed the video program, and Armande Hoffgeitz’s face disappeared from the screen. All he had to do was sit tight for a few more minutes, let the old man take his last few breaths.

  Lemmy’s gaze wandered to the desk and met Paula’s laughing eyes in a photograph, standing with Klaus Junior. She loved her father, and the boy loved his grandfather. Lemmy imagined them crying at the news, sobbing by the open coffin, kneeling at the gravestone-

  “ Damn!” He ran out of his office, startling Christopher, and sprinted upstairs. The door was slightly open. Herr Hoffgeitz was lying behind it. Lemmy pushed until there was enough space to squeeze in.

  Christopher followed him.

  “ Call an ambulance!” There was no pulse, or it was too weak to detect. Lemmy shoved his fingers into Armande’s mouth and pulled on the tongue. With the airway clear, he began resuscitation.

  *

  Gideon watched Elie walk into the suite, find a chair, and sit down, panting heavily.

  “Someone called,” Bathsheba said. “A man with a very nice voice.”

  Elie pulled off his wool cap. “The message?”

  “ The prince has landed.”

  Black rings circled Elie’s eyes. He pressed his chest and coughed again.

  “ I’m listening to his phones,” Gideon said, pointing to the equipment. “Nothing yet.”

  Bathsheba pulled a juice bottle from the fridge. “I hate waiting like this. We need to take the initiative. What if Abu Yusef drops another bomb?”

  “ Another? He didn’t attack the synagogue,” Elie said, “and he won’t act until he gets more money.”

  Bathsheba was unfazed. “How do you know the prince will contact Abu Yusef? Maybe they’ve already arranged it or maybe he’ll call from a public pay phone, like you do all the time to hide things from us-which is insulting, by the way.”

  “ You miss the point,” Elie said, ignoring her gripe. “Prince Abusalim is no passive donor, but a businessman with an ambitious agenda. And he’s too spoiled to be inconvenienced by pay phones. Especially now, after he almost lost everything, he’ll be even more eager to secure his birthright. He will lead us to Abu Yusef, and we’ll take them both down.”

  “ What birthright?” Bathsheba laughed. “He’s a rich Saudi with a taste for rough sex.”

  “ Not so simple,” Gideon said. “The last Quraysh to rule Mecca was Abd Allah ibn az-Zubayr-a direct ancestor of Prince Abusalim, who’s next in line to lead this old and bitter dynasty.”

  “That’s right,” Elie said. “His dreams of prominence have deep roots in history. He won’t wait for another quarrel with his father.” Resting his hand on the carved wooden cover of his bible, Elie added, “It’s a story as old as time.”

  “ I think we should break into his suite as soon as he arrives,” Bathsheba said, “and start chopping off his toes one by one until he tells us where to find Abu Yusef.”

  “You’re so eager to inflict pain.” Elie twisted his face, the skin as taut as wax paper over his facial bones. “Pain is a fine tool for the right occasion. In this case, inflicting pain on the prince is like using a screwdriver on a nail. He doesn’t know Abu Yusef’s hiding place, and therefore he’d be useless to us without his toes.”

  Gideon laughed, but Bathsheba pressed on. “So that’s it? We wait for another transfer to Senlis and follow Abu Yusef home? And then what? How are you planning to get through all those men protecting him?”

  *

  The medics arrived within minutes and took over the resuscitation effort. Lemmy sat down and watched them work with efficiency and skill until they brought back a pulse.

  When they rolled Herr Hoffgeitz out of the building, a few spectators stood on the pavement by the waiting ambulance.

  “Call Paula,” Lemmy told Christopher. “Tell her I’ll meet her at the hospital.” He climbed in after the gurney, the doors closed, and the ambulance sped away.

  Armande Hoffgeitz was admitted to the cardiac ICU at Zurich University Hospital. Paula arrived moments later, and so did Armande’s long-time physician, Dr. Spilman, who went in to consult with the hospital staff.

  An hour later, Dr. Spilman came out to speak with them. He hugged Paula, who had known him since childhood. “It’s not good,” he said. “His condition has stabilized, but it’s too early to predict the chances of recovery.”

  “ He’s a strong man,” Paula said. “Look, he’s still alive, right?”

  “ Only because of this young man.” Dr. Spilman patted Lemmy’s shoulder. “Another minute or two, and he would have left us forever.”

  Paula stayed with her father, and Lemmy took a taxi back to the bank. Christopher was waiting for him. They hurried up the stairs.

  Gunter stood in front of Herr Hoffgeitz’s door. His lips trembled.

  “It’s touch and go,” Lemmy said. “He’s very ill.”

  Gunter did not move from the door. He took off his glasses and began shining them nervously with his tie.

  “Dr. Spilman and Paula are with him.” Lemmy took a step closer. “I’d like to check his office, in case he took some medications before-”

  “I’ve already checked. No medications in there.”

  “I must insist.”

  “But Herr Hoffgeitz left instructions for such an event.” Gunter pulled a sheet of paper from his breast pocket. “I am responsible for all his accounts. Me alone!”

  “ For up to thirty days-while I run the bank’s affairs on behalf of the family.”

  “ Maybe longer. The board of directors shall meet and decide.”

  “ Their job is to appoint a qualified person to take over. Do you feel qualified to run this bank?” Not waiting for an answer, Lemmy turned to go.

  “Would you like to see the instructions?”

  “I have my own copy.” Halfway down the stairs, Lemmy paused. “Were you in Herr Hoffgeitz’s office when he collapsed?”

  Gunter stepped back as if physically assaulted. “Of course not! I would have called for help!”

  “ You seemed upset when I came in this morning.”

  Gunter hesitated. “We received a phone call. Very disturbing.”

  “Why?”

  He clearly did not want to say any more, but the desire to defend himself tipped the scales. “A man called, pretending to represent someone else.”

  “ Who?”

  “ He has done it before. Many years ago.”

  “ Done what?”

  “ Pretended to represent someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “An old friend of Herr Hoffgeitz.”

  “Let me see if I get it straight.” Lemmy blew air in feigned frustration. “Many years ago a man called-”

  “ Visited. In person.”

  “ When?”

  “ In sixty-seven.”

  “ Twenty-eight years ago?”

  Gunter nodded. “He had the signed ledger that recorded all of the deposits, but he didn’t have the account number and the password.”

  “ So he went away, and after all these years, he called again this morning, claiming to speak for an old friend of Herr Hoffgeitz. I assume that friend still has an account with us, yes?”

  “ It’s complicated.” Gunter seemed ready to collapse. “Herr Hoffgeitz was very angry.”

  *

  Bathsheba brought Chinese takeout. Elie wasn’t hungry. He stayed in the bedroom, reading his bible with a cigarette in hand. The two of them ate outside on the balcony, Gideon with a paperback edition of Robert Ludlum’s The Bourne Identity and Bathsheba with the binoculars, examining every detail on the imposing structure of the Eiffel Tower. Below, heavy traffic snarled across the Seine River on Pont de Bir Hakeim.

  When the sun went down, Gideon went inside and lay on the sofa to read.

  Close to midnight, the lights blinked on the
eavesdropping equipment. He grabbed the headset and listened. Bathsheba called Elie from the bedroom.

  When the conversation ended, Gideon took off the headset. He shook his head. “Unbelievable! Just unbelievable!”

  “ Play it from the beginning,” Elie said.

  The prince said, “Hello?”

  “Allah’s blessings, Excellency.” The caller spoke with an Arabic accent.

  “ Insha’Allah.”

  “Your generosity was put to good use. The Palestinian revolution is indebted to you forever.”

  Prince Abusalim hesitated for a moment. “The suffering of our Palestinian brothers is a bleeding wound in the heart of every Arab.”

  “Indeed, indeed.” Abu Yusef exhaled audibly. “May Allah open the eyes of our more fortunate brothers so they follow your example.”

  “Your courage is certain to break through their hardened souls. Though next time you should care not to hurt the French, our hosts.”

  “Indeed it was unfortunate.” Abu Yusef sighed. “But when you cut wood, chips fall. We are fighting for the Haram El-Sharif, which deserves your guardianship, as destiny has prescribed, to spread the rule of Allah under the Koran.”

  “ Insha’Allah.”

  “ Our operation last week was just the beginning. Allah will bring us victory. And he will bless you with fortunes ten times your generosity.”

  “Yes,” said Prince Abusalim, “I think He will. How much do you need?”

  “The fight is long and costly. Very costly.”

  “ Truth is, I’m having some difficulties right now.”

  “ I understand.” Abu Yusef paused. “Can we help?”

  “There is a man who stands in my way. He will be in Paris soon.”

  “We shall be honored to remove that man from your way.”

  “ Five million dollars.”

  “Excellency!” Abu Yusef uttered a strange chuckle, probably out of shock at the size of the reward. “Your friendship alone is a sufficient gift. But of course, we accept!”

  “ Good. I’ll arrange to transfer half the amount. Call me on Wednesday morning for the details. The other half will be paid after you remove him.”

  “ Agreed! And who is that dog, that filthy infidel, who dared to stand in your way?”