by Dov Nardimon
“It sure does. Call me back as soon as you know anything?”
“Absolutely, Ronit.”
Shlomo asked the secretaries if there had been word from Eddie and Reuben.
“No,” said one, “but Tzipi asked me to call Dr. Nevo and Reuben’s parents and tell them they called and said everything was ok.”
“What did you do that for?!” a surprised Shlomo asked Tzipi, who had just entered the office all smiley and fresh.
“Morning everyone!” she said and turned to Shlomo. “Do what?”
“Had someone call the families and say Reuben and Eddie phoned.”
“Because that way I could check to see if they had talked to them and keep the wife and parents calm at the same time.”
Shlomo didn’t know how to respond to Tzipi’s confidant comeback with its certain logic. Then after making sure no one was listening, he called Ronit.
“So I take it Eddie’s parents haven’t heard from him either.”
“Apparently not.”
“I don’t know. Something doesn’t smell right,” said Ronit. Shlomo and Ronit agreed to keep each other posted on any developments.
During lunch at the hospital, Ronit called her older brother Nir, whom she loved and admired. Three years older and married to her friend, Shlomit, from med school, her brother was an important figure at the Israeli General Security Agency, the Shabak. He knew anyone and everyone. Even now, at his desk job, he still kept a strict fitness regimen and athletic physique.
“What do you think, Nir?”
“When you get home tonight, first thing you do is send me the conference details, the hotels they were meant to stay at, and their flight information. You know what? Give me the number of the cell phone they took with them, too. I’ll run some tests and see what I can find out.”
The next morning, on the fourth day since Eddie and Reuben’s departure, Ronit got a call from Nir. “I couldn’t track them, but I have some information that isn’t so good.”
“You think something’s happened to them . . .” said Ronit, panicked.
“No, no,” he quickly calmed her down. “I haven’t got any information on that. What I do have is this: the cell phone company got an order to block their phone to international calls on Saturday night.”
“How is that possible?” asked Ronit, shocked.
“Someone named Tzipi made the call. She had all of Ebocell-Tech’s information.”
“That’s Mickey’s assistant!” cried Ronit.
“Wait, there’s more: they never made it to their hotel in Japan. The hotel had a cancellation on Sunday at noon, local time. That’s before they could have possibly gotten there.”
“I can’t believe this,” she said, sighing. “What do we do?”
“I’ve contacted some friends at the Mossad and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to see if they can track them in Japan,” said Nir. “Can you think of any other leads?”
“What about their flight from Switzerland?”
“You’re right. I’ll look into that and call if I have any news. Are you going to work?”
“Yes,” she said lethargically.
“Why don’t you check and see if Eddie’s parents have heard anything?”
“You think it’s a good idea to worry them?”
“Ok, let’s hold off on that. Anyway, cheer up, sis. I’m sure this is all just some sort of misunderstanding and everything will turn out fine.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Chapter 44
At noon Nir called Ronit. “Bad news. Reuben and Eddie never boarded their flight to Japan. I asked some Mossad friends of mine to check Switzerland with our embassy there and the local security services. I also tried to gather some information about their new partner Mickey. Did you know he has a criminal record?”
“No, I had no idea. I never liked him from day one, but Reuben really fell in love with him.”
“Well, your intuition was right. I’m sending you an e-mail with an article about him that was buried right before publication. Mickey placed a huge, full-page ad in that paper, and in exchange they kept quiet. I have some contacts in the paper archives, and I know for a fact he paid a lot of money for that ad.”
“Send it to my work e-mail. I can’t wait ’til I get home. Other than that, what do we do?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m going to go to the police and initiate an official request for the Interpol to search for Eddie and Reuben. I think you’ll have to file a formal complaint for the police to start a case.”
“Come with me, Nir. I can’t handle this alone.”
“Of course I will. Can you get off work early?”
“I’m too distracted to work anyway.”
“Ronit, as hard as it is to keep all this a secret, you have to do just that. We can’t risk Tzipi hearing anything, not until we get to the bottom of this.”
“Of course.”
“We’ll talk soon.” Nir said good-bye to Ronit who rushed to the doctor’s office on the ward to read the article about Mickey.
In 1991, Rush returned to Israel with his new wife, who came from a wealthy family in Connecticut and a hefty dowry of several million dollars. As a young, new lawyer with no family ties in the Tel Aviv city, Rush would have to make his way through hard work for several long years in order to establish himself as a successful, well-known attorney. But Rush couldn’t wait. He lacked the patience and restraint that is needed for hard, grinding work. The shortcuts he had taken to get his degree also meant that he was not properly trained to do the work. Like water that always finds its way to the lowest spot, so did Rush begin to reconnect with childhood friends who were involved in all sorts of unsavory occupations. One friend, Shmulik, ran the largest debt collecting operation in town. He was happy to learn that his old friend Mickey had returned from the States equipped with a rich wife and now had an impressive villa in Kfar Shemaryahu and other characteristics that could work to his benefit: Rush could help legitimize the shady businesses of the most effective, most violent debt collector in town. Before long, the two became partners in the collection business. Mickey financed moving Shmulik’s offices to a respectable area near his own office and gave the necessary legal façade to the collection, and the two did extremely well.
The fact that Rush was a partner in the collection business was kept secret for several years. Legal ethics does not allow a lawyer to be involved in a debt collection agency. Two years after the partnership was founded, a well-known money launderer who worked in illegal gambling was murdered. A successful investigation by the police found the killer to be someone from Shmulik’s collection agency who had been sent to collect, but escalated from violent threats to actual violence. During the investigation, the police were amazed to find out that Rush was one of the partners who owned the agency.
The Israel Bar Association immediately announced Rush’s suspension for one year, and his license to practice was revoked until the trial was finished. The wheels of justice turn slowly, and despite the negative publicity—or perhaps thanks to it—the collection agency continued to work for another year. As the trial progressed, it became clear that Shmulik himself was involved in several murders of people who were persons of interest with the police. They were connected to several unsolved cases that the police didn’t try very hard to solve. The theory was that since both the killer and murderer were from the world of crime, the general public benefited from them killing each other.
Shmulik was sentenced to many years in prison. Rush managed to prove he had nothing to do with the murders, which all took place before he joined the agency, but the Israel Bar Association refused to restore his license. After the one-year suspension was over, they decided to permanently revoke Rush’s license.
Rush now had to find another way of climbing up the social ladder. He decided to direct his financial resources to the fast growing hi-tech world. Even before losing his license, he hired one of Tel Aviv’s most expensive PR managers.
They launched a brilliant campaign portraying Rush as a brilliant attorney who had returned to Israel after years of working at a respectable New York firm. Out of compassionate loyalty to a childhood friend and in good faith, he became involved in his collection agency. They described said partnership as a slip, the result of deliberate deception on the friend’s part. Rush didn’t even know his friend had signed him on as partner alleging his signature had been forged. The paper readers had naturally already forgotten that this claim was refuted in court several months prior.
Rush achieved media rehabilitation even before his partner’s trial was over. When his friend was found guilty and sentenced, Rush’s PR made sure news about it would get only minor exposure with no mention of any connection to the honorable Mickey Rush who in the meantime started his new firm—MRI—Mickey Rush Investments.
Rush’s new office, and the yacht he kept close, by now became a meeting spot for what he loved to call the off-Broadway investors—building contractors who felt uncomfortable in the sophisticated environment of the swanky venture funds, famous doctors who preferred to make discreet investments with the huge profits from their private clinics, and friends of Shmulik who knew of his partner’s new business. Rush was not too keen on keeping in touch with people from that world, but he couldn’t refuse them either. He would meet with them in cafés in Tel Aviv, away from his office. The cash they gave him to launder through investments in hi-tech businesses would be transferred via messenger overseas to Vaduz where he started a company and bank account. From that bank account, he would then transfer money to the companies in which he invested. Rush kept tabs with the investors by no more than receipts scribbled on paper napkins, and his investors knew Rush wouldn’t dare mess with them. The shadow of now-convicted Shmulik, who had nothing else to lose, was always present, and Rush was not one to take the risk of being a victim of these people’s aggressive collecting methods.
In shock, Ronit read the article over and over again. “Greedy little fool, my husband,” she muttered to herself in anger, remembering full well just how enthusiastic Reuben had been about Mickey, whom she disliked from the first glance.
In the early afternoon, Nir called and asked Ronit to come with him and give a statement with the police. They contacted Interpol and the Swiss and Belgian police. Their instructions were that, should Mickey turn up, he should be placed under surveillance to see if he comes in contact with the missing persons. In Israel Tzipi was placed under surveillance, and all of Mickey’s office lines were tapped. The police wanted to talk to Shlomo, as well as Eddie’s parents. Nir suggested they hold on ’til the next day to talk to Shlomo. He wanted to talk to him first. Ronit offered to talk with Eddie’s parents herself before anyone from the police contacted them, and the police agreed to wait.
“You don’t suspect Shlomo as well, do you?” asked Ronit.
“I’m leaving all suspicions to the police. I just want to get to know him.”
“I find it hard to believe that he’s involved in this.”
“Look, Ronit, he joined the company just two months ago, and Mickey became partner a month after that. Reuben and Eddie don’t know him that well, do they? What do we really know about him? About any previous connection he might have with Mickey?”
“Anything’s possible, but my intuition says he’s one of the good guys. Absolutely loyal to Eddie.”
“And to Reuben?”
“Reuben was annoyed with him for being too strict with Mickey during negotiations, but that just reinforces my good feeling about him.”
“Or he pretended to be harsh with Mickey as an act to serve Mickey’s goals.”
“Oh, Nir, I think you’ve been with the Security Agency for too long.”
“Maybe, but right now that’s what’s helping us solve this problem. Let’s call Shlomo.”
“If you’re questioning him you might as well question the three lab techs, especially Sasha who joined the company only a few weeks before Shlomo did.”
“You’re right, but I’m afraid if we question too many people, it’ll get back to Tzipi, which we don’t want. Maybe talking with Shlomo will give us some new information.”
They met with Shlomo shortly after. He told Nir what he had already told Ronit and had nothing new to add. When the conversation was over, Nir agreed with Ronit Shlomo was probably in the clear.
“Do you want to stay with us tonight?” Nir asked his sister. “You can chat with Shlomit a little. Looks like you need it.”
“No, thanks. I’ve got the late shift.”
“Poor thing, you haven’t had a chance to rest.”
“It’s ok; it’ll make the night go by faster.”
They agreed not to tell their parents anything so as not to worry them and didn’t call Eddie’s parents for the same reason.
“If I have any news tonight, I’ll call you.”
“You can bet I’ll answer right away,” she said, smiling tiredly.
“It’s going to be all right, sis, you’re strong.” Nir stroked his baby sister’s head. “You’re not going to break down on me, are you?”
“Not while I have you to protect me,” she said, kissing him on the cheek and saying good-bye before he could see the single tear flowing down her face.
That night all telephone lines in Mickey Rush’s home and offices were tapped. He called his wife Suzy, and the call was traced back to the Hyatt hotel in Brussels. Inspection of the airport database showed that Mickey had left the country on the same day Eddie and Reuben flew to Zurich. Their flight was on Sunday morning, and his to Brussels was on Sunday evening.
At the same time that Reuben was having his breakfast with Alfonso and Isabella signing the papers that sealed his fate, Eddie was pacing restlessly in his room. The more he thought about what he saw the previous day, the angrier he got. The fact that only a few rooms away was the lab they had worked so hard to create with all of the data they had accumulated over the past two years drove him mad. The worst part of it all was his inability to control the situation.
He had been through his fair share of life-threatening situations in his military service to be able to keep his cool even with everything that was happening now. He got the sense his life wasn’t in danger and that he should act confidant in order to win and eventually be released. But yesterday changed his evaluation of the situation. Having the lab here meant this was no temporary arrangement. It meant he was going to be kept here for a long while, as long as his kidnappers wanted. It also meant being kidnapped was only a small part of a much more elaborate and complicated scheme. No matter which country they were in, the ability to steal the entire lab and schedule it exactly to when he and Reuben left for Japan precisely when the company was due to move from Be’er Ya’acov to Ness Ziona meant that someone who had all the necessary internal information was involved.
Mickey, whom he disliked from day one, was his prime suspect. But he couldn’t understand why Mickey, who had just invested in the company, would want to jeopardize its future with this strange adventure.
Did he find out about our secret new electromagnetic discovery? Could Reuben have been as careless as to tell Mickey about it? he asked himself. He found it hard to believe Reuben would let such information slip. Could Sasha or Leonid have told Mickey? As far as he knew, Mickey never had a chance to talk with the employees, but there was no other explanation for this kidnapping and the theft of the lab other than the discovery they had made. What’s going on back home right now? What do the employees know about the theft? What story have they been told by whomever planned this thing to stop them from coming to work in Ness Ziona Sunday morning? Eddie had so many questions running through his head, all of which he had to try and answer by himself.
Day Six
Chapter 45
The next twenty-four hours went by slowly, and Eddie felt he was about to go mad with helplessness. The next morning after finishing his breakfast, Alfonso entered his room and invited him to join him in the lab.
&
nbsp; “I’ve already seen it yesterday,” said Eddie.
“Yes, but several things have changed since then, and I’d like for you to see for yourself.”
They walked quickly to the lab accompanied as usual by two guards. Alfonso typed a certain code into the key panel and swiped his personal card, and at the sound of a click, he opened the door and showed Eddie in. Eddie’s amazement was total. Eddie froze in his place as he saw Reuben hunched over the PCR machine with Isabella by his side. Two more men, also dressed in white coats, were present in the room.
“Morning everyone,” said Alfonso, greeting them in a festive tone to draw Reuben’s attention away from the device.
Reuben turned around and froze as he saw Eddie.
“You traitor, what do you think you’re doing?!” shouted Eddie at Reuben in Hebrew.
“You’re the traitor! I’m supposed to be your friend and partner! You fucked my wife, and you dare call me a traitor?”
“Hold on now, gentlemen,” said Alfonso, interrupting them in a harsh tone. “You will not talk in Hebrew here or in any other language that we do not understand. From this moment on all conversations between you are to take place in English.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Eddie in English.
“I’m talking about you and Ronit, my wife. I know you were together at the hospital and in your apartment.”
“Who told you about that?”
“No one had to tell me, I saw for myself,” answered Reuben bitterly.
“I don’t understand.”
“When you see the film you’ll understand.”
“What film?!”
“The film that Mickey made using hidden cameras at the hospital and in your home.”
“I can’t believe this!”
“Yes, our new partner, the bastard who put us here, also helped show me your true face. Of all the women in the world you had to choose my wife to help you get over Rose.”
“Wait a minute!” Eddie tried to stop Reuben’s flow of speech and turned to Alfonso. “I need to speak with Reuben privately somewhere quiet to clear things.”