Sarah was tempted to spit when she heard the name, but she didn’t. In her book, evil didn’t come much worse than Von Volker. ‘He’s involved in this?’
‘So it would appear. Von Volker is definitely in the Ayatollah’s camp.’
That was inarguable.
‘As it turns out, Professor Lourds has an interesting history with Von Volker.’
‘I wasn’t aware that Lourds knew Von Volker. That’s something I would have remembered from his file.’
‘Actually, the history wasn’t with Von Volker.’ Melman smiled slightly and shook his head.
In addition to being good at memorizing files, Sarah was good at connecting the dots. ‘Von Volker doesn’t have a daughter, nor a sister. So it’s the wife then?’
Melman nodded. ‘Lourds and Frau Von Volker were classmates at Vienna, as it turns out, and lovers for a couple of years.’
‘How did we miss that?’
‘We weren’t looking for it. We weren’t looking for a connection to Von Volker either.’
‘No, but that would explain the German and Austrian mercenaries that turned up dead where Lev Strauss was killed.’
‘And the two men Agent Abata killed in Namchee Bazaar.’
Sarah made a note in Lourds’s folder to tie him, Von Volker, and Frau Von Volker in together. ‘Perhaps we should make a history of every woman the professor has been romantically involved with.’
Melman tugged at his white beard and smiled. ‘I’m beginning to think that even the vast resources of the Mossad might be taxed to investigate such a thing. Professor Lourds seems to find willing women wherever he goes.’
‘We don’t know why Lourds is coming back to Israel?’
‘No.’ Melman shook his head. ‘Not yet. But he found something in that book in the bus locker that sent him to Vienna. That much is clear. I’m willing to bet that he found something in Vienna that brought him back here.’
Pulling up the crime scene photos of Lev Strauss’s flat, Sarah turned the monitor around so Melman could see. ‘There were a number of articles taken from Strauss’s flat according to Strauss’s neighbor.’
‘Mrs. Hirsch, yes, I know. And I was thinking that if Von Volker were behind Strauss’s kidnapping, those things might have ended up in Vienna.’
‘We have discovered the woman’s origins.’
‘The one found at Strauss’s murder site?’
‘Yes. She was from Austria. From her police record, she had a history of selling sexual favors and attaching herself to wealthy men.’
‘A mistress?’
‘If you want to call it that.’
‘Von Volker’s mistress?’
‘We’re investigating that possibility.’
‘Can you bring up a picture of Frau Von Volker and this mistress side by side on your computer?’
Sarah pulled the images from the files and placed them together on the monitor.
A cold smile thinned Melman’s lips. ‘Those two women favor each other, don’t you think?’
‘Yes.’ Sarah felt frustrated. That was something she should have caught earlier.
‘You weren’t looking for the connection.’ Melman shifted in his chair. ‘You’re not perfect, Sarah, but you’re closer than anyone I’ve ever worked with before. Occasionally, everyone misses things.’
‘Strauss knew Lourds in Vienna. Lourds knew Frau Von Volker in Vienna.’ Sarah pursed her lips. ‘It’s hardly a stretch to believe that Strauss knew Frau Von Volker. She could be the reason Strauss left the safe house.’
Melman scratched his beard. ‘So the knots are falling neater and neater.’
‘Yes.’
‘One thing I do detest, Katsas Shavit, is Lourds’s blatant disregard for our efforts at keeping tabs on him.’
Sarah smiled at the comment. Melman had a very dry sense of humor that was seldom exercised. ‘He’s hardly aware that we’re onto him.’
‘Even so. The man’s habit of popping here and there is very irritating. I hate playing catch-up on a mission as important as this. So I was thinking we might correct our inability to stay apace with him.’
Interested, Sarah watched him. ‘With Miriam Abata?’
Melman smiled broadly. ‘You anticipate me so well, Sarah. Between you and my wife, I have no secrets.’
‘Agent Abata hasn’t fully recovered from her ordeal in Namchee Bazaar.’
‘No, I wouldn’t expect that she would have yet.’ Melman took a breath. ‘But you know as well as I do that these things are better dealt with by throwing an agent back out into the field as soon as possible. If she is broken, the sooner we know, the more lives we save. Including her own.’
‘I know.’ Sarah contemplated the idea. ‘She’s also exactly the type of young woman that Professor Lourds would allow close to him.’
Melman raised his eyebrows. ‘Type? Dear woman, any female that’s breathing and vertical appears to be his type.’
‘The vertical appears to be negotiable. Horizontal would be more appealing, I would think.’
Color flushed Melman’s cheeks, but he laughed.
‘Let me talk to Abata. I’ll get back to you.’ But the more she thought about the idea, the more Sarah liked it. Also, after what Miriam Abata had been through, maybe tough love was the answer.
34
The Institute of Archaeology
Hebrew University of Jerusalem
Mount Scopus
Jerusalem, the State of Israel
August 9, 2011
Lourds took a taxi up the hill to the college campus in northeast Jerusalem. The land was pretty, falling away in graceful curves equally decorated with dwellings and wilderness.
Mount Scopus peered down on Jerusalem, and it had been the staging point for several efforts to sack the city. The Romans and the Crusaders had gathered there and initiated maneuvers, and the area was hotly contested during the Arab-Israeli War in 1948, then again in 1967 during the Six-Day War. Today, the mountain was zoned within the municipality of Jerusalem.
Looking out over the city, Lourds could pick out all the landmarks that would have been visible to those Roman Centurions in AD 66, and to the French and English Crusaders so many years later. The mind-set of those warriors would not have changed much. Whether armed with a gladius or an assault rifle, those men would have mentally poked and pried at Jerusalem’s weakness till the city fell.
Rome had supported Herod as the king of the Jews, and he’d kowtowed to the city’s every wish. Under Herod’s guidance, though, Jerusalem had prospered and grown, and the Temple Mount area had more than doubled. His descendants had ruled the city till the Great Revolt in AD 66. That was what had brought the Romans to fill the streets with blood. It had taken them four years to break the city’s defenses, but eventually they’d done it. Agrippa II, Herod’s descendant and the last of the seven Herodian kings, had fled to Galilee with his sister.
General Vespasian had led more than sixty thousand troops into Galilee and crushed the rebellion in the north. From there, he and his son Titus stalled at Jerusalem’s walls. The army had dug a trench around the city and set up camp. Citizens caught fleeing the city were crucified and left to rot on crosses on the earthen walls the Romans had built to trap Jerusalem. Historians reported that as many as five hundred crucifixions took place in a single day.
Studying the city now, Lourds could see where the battles had been staged. Gardens and new buildings covered many of the old scars, but they were still there, still ingrained in a culture that would never forget the injustices, the hatred outsiders had poured on them, and the oppression they’d suffered at the hands of foreign invaders.
Some said Jerusalem would never heal until God Himself descended from the heavens and ministered to the city. But which God? That had been the question for so many ages.
And, as always, predators around the city awaited the moment to strike. Most of those were descendants of those who had gone before, and everything they did was in God’s name.
‘Professor Lourds.’
Startled, Lourds turned from a group of beautiful coeds sitting in the shade of trees near the entrance to the Botanical Gardens.
A short, well-kept man in his early sixties and a good gray suit approached him. He was hawk-faced, bald, and wore a neat salt-and-pepper goatee.
‘I’m Aaron Jacob, president of the university. We talked on the phone this morning.’ Jacob offered his hand.
Lourds took the man’s hand and shook. Jacob had a strong, practiced grip, but there were no calluses. He’d shaken a lot of hands over the years – as university president that would have been a prerequisite – but he’d pushed pencils more than he’d shifted rock and dirt in the field. ‘Just call me Thomas.’
‘Of course. Call me Aaron.’ Smoothly, Jacob slid his arm around Lourds’s shoulders and guided him up the steps toward the main building. ‘I’m told this isn’t your first visit to our university.’
‘No. I’ve been here a few times, actually. As a visiting professor and as a lecturer.’
‘Really? I must have missed those opportunities to hear you. My loss.’
‘There are recordings.’
Jacob smiled at that. ‘Yes, I’ll have to familiarize myself with your work when I have the opportunity. You said this morning you wanted to look around Professor Strauss’s office?’
‘If I may.’
‘The two of you were good friends?’
‘Very good friends. We studied in Vienna together, did some fieldwork among the Uighur tribes in the Himalayas, and Lev saved my life in a plane crash a few years ago. That’s how he lost the leg.’
‘I never did hear that story.’
‘Lev didn’t like bragging.’
‘He seemed like a quiet, intense man.’
‘Get a six-pack and a pizza in him, and he could be quite different.’
Jacob grinned. ‘I suppose that can be said of most men. Can you tell me what you’re looking for?’
‘I just want to put Lev’s papers in order, perhaps finish some of the work he’d started.’ Lourds shrugged. ‘It was a drunken promise we made to each other one night. We were young and idealistic. It’s one of those foolish promises you make to a dear friend, but while I’m here, I thought I’d see what I could get sorted.’
‘You left that marvelous discovery in the Himalayas to come here?’
‘Lev sent word to me, asking me to be here. I didn’t know we had lost him till I arrived.’
‘I’m sorry. That had to have been hard. As for Professor Strauss’s office, you could actually help us. We don’t know where to get started as far as packing things up.’ Jacob looked at Lourds and grimaced. ‘Sorry. That came out rather more cold and bureaucratic than I’d intended.’
‘At this point, I don’t think there’s any other way to put it.’
Jacob opened the door and guided Lourds into the air-conditioned building. ‘I did put off cleaning the office until we could get someone that knew Professor Strauss well enough to put his work into perspective. The university doesn’t want to lose any of his research that needs to be saved.’
Lourds removed his sunglasses and looked at the lobby. History fairly dripped from the walls. Jerusalem was filled with thousands of years of artifacts from cultures all around the world. The Department of Restoration and Conservation specialized in prehistoric, biblical, and classical archaeology. Pictures of digs sat on display.
‘A special exhibition of some of the projects the institute has done. To introduce our work to prospective students signing up for fall classes.’
A plastered skull from Kfar Hahoresh sat in a glass case, the closed eyes and straight line of the mouth giving the face the semblance of sleeping. Pottery shards from the Yoqne’am Regional Project were arranged on another shelf. A replica of a mosaic of a Roman archer in armor hung on the wall. Dozens of other pieces, all impressive, occupied more space.
‘It should get their attention.’
‘It has.’ Jacob pointed down a hallway. ‘Professor Strauss’s office is this way.’
Lev’s office looked like a bomb had gone off inside. Lourds would have been surprised to find it any other way. When they’d roomed together in Vienna, they’d both been messy about research and work, and neither had complained about the other. However, each one had known where every scrap of paper he was working with was located.
‘I apologize for the mess.’ Jacob looked a little embarrassed. ‘Perhaps I should have had someone tidy up.’
‘No. This is perfect. Lev thought in groups.’ Lourds pointed his hat at the organized chaos. ‘With everything left untouched, I’ll be able to follow Lev’s thinking like a bloodhound trails scent.’
‘All right. I’m glad you like it.’
Lourds smiled. ‘Besides, if people had always cleaned up after themselves, archaeologists would have nothing to discover.’
‘I suppose that is one way to think about it.’
‘It is.’
Jacob held out a set of keys. ‘These will get you into and out of the office. How long do you think this will take?’
‘I don’t know. A few days at most.’
‘All right.’ Jacob pulled a business card from his pocket. ‘These are my office and home phone numbers. If you should find you need anything, please don’t hesitate to contact me.’
‘Thank you.’
Jacob nodded. ‘There’s a university cafeteria within walking distance, and a few places the students like to go. You can even have food delivered from a few nearby restaurants.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ Lourds pocketed the keys and the business card, anxious to get to work.
‘A graduate student will be by shortly to assist you.’
Lourds looked at the man. ‘Oh?’
‘I looked for a volunteer to help you shift Professor Strauss’s papers.’ Jacob smiled and shook his head. ‘That’s a lot of work to do by yourself. Plus, she’ll know more about the university.’
‘All right.’ The idea of someone peering over Lourds’s shoulder made him slightly uneasy, but there wasn’t much he could do to dissuade the university president. He was fortunate they were even letting him onto the premises. He looked around at the office as Jacob said good-bye and walked away.
Of course, the office was a lot of work.
For a time while she was walking through the halls of the university, Miriam Abata could believe that she was back in school. Those days were barely behind her. If she could step back, only a few days, the two dead men wouldn’t be haunting her.
Every now and again, she thought she saw one of them standing just a short distance away, caught in the corner of her eye, pistol drawn. But every time she looked, no one was there. Nights were the hardest. She played the events over again and again, wondering if there was some other way she could have handled herself.
Let it go. That had been Katsas Shavit’s advice. Accept what is, know that you did the best you could to save yourself. That was your job. Save yourself. That is every operative’s primary job.
They had talked for a while, then Katsas Shavit had taken her to a piano bar and gotten her drunk. Later, at Miriam’s flat, they had cried together. Somehow, Katsas Shavit had gotten her into her bed and left.
They’d never talked of the shooting or the drinking since, but Miriam knew the woman would be there for her if she needed her.
She drew a deep breath as she took the final corner toward the office she was looking for. The assignment had come as a surprise because she had expected to be left on her own for weeks. From what she had learned from other agents, that was how things were generally done.
At first, she’d been resentful yesterday when Katsas Shavit had laid out the assignment for her. Being involved with Thomas Lourds had already proven detrimental. Then she’d looked at the recent days that she had behind her. For the past week, she had gone to counseling sessions – I am so sick of those – worked out in the dojo near her house until she’d barely had the
strength to walk to her flat, and drunk entirely too much. She always knew when she drank too much because during those times, she wondered what her father would have thought of her and how her life had turned out.
Would he have been proud?
Or would he have wanted her to be anything other than a Mossad agent?
Most days, Miriam wished she could ask him those questions. She visited his grave regularly, but she hadn’t gone there since she’d killed the two men in Namchee Bazaar. Until she made that right in her mind, she knew she’d find no solace at her father’s final resting place, and she didn’t want to drag that baggage there.
When she reached the office door she was searching for, she took a deep breath. Now was the point of no return. Lourds had been drunk the night he’d seen her, and since then she’d colored her hair black and added an exotic blue-and-white stripe on the right side that drew attention from her features.
He shouldn’t be able to recognize her.
She knocked on the closed door and waited, thinking that Lourds would recognize her immediately, and she would be sent back to Tel Aviv. She told herself that would be fine, that she didn’t need any part of the man.
Then something crashed on the other side of the door. She gripped the knob, reached for the pistol that should have been at her hip but wasn’t, and put her shoulder to the door as she went through.
35
The Institute of Archaeology
Hebrew University of Jerusalem
Mount Scopus
Jerusalem, the State of Israel
August 9, 2011
Lourds lay sprawled on the floor. He looked up at Miriam in stunned surprise.
She stared down at him, then at the pile of books that had toppled from the desk to the floor. What is it with this man? ‘Are you all right?’
‘My ego may be a little bruised.’ Gracefully, Lourds pushed himself to his feet. He pointed at the swivel chair behind the desk. One of the wheels lay on its side, crushed, allowing the chair to tilt dangerously. ‘The chair gave out.’
‘While you were sitting in it?’
The Temple Mount Code Page 21