The Trials of Zion

by Alan M. Dershowitz

  Suddenly Avi realized there was only one way. He had to take her at her word. She had promised. If he told her the truth, she would remain his teacher. Quickly he made a decision—al regel achat—on one foot. Again. It was as important as his earlier decision.

  “I love you. I can’t live without you. I want to marry you. That’s my secret. Now it’s out. I won’t hold you to your promise. You can stop being my teacher. But please don’t.”

  Rachel heard a muffled sound—a controlled gasp—escape her lips. Then she looked at the floor. She had goaded this out of him, and now that he’d spoken the words, she hardly knew how to respond. Her own words came out in a stammer. “I… I have a secret too, Avi.” She paused and looked directly into Avi’s eyes. “I love you. You are the most interesting and decent man I have ever met. I want to marry you. More than anything in the world.”

  Avi reached to kiss her hands, but she pulled them away before they touched. All the joy of the previous moment turned instantly to grief. “But I can’t,” she said, hesitating for a moment. “I just can’t. I would dishonor my family.”

  Avi’s face made her feel ashamed of what she’d done. She had forced him to admit his feelings, when no good would come of it. “You can’t marry a man you don’t love, just because your parents want you to,” he said, calmly but with great feeling. “You’ll be ruining your life.”

  “There’s more to marriage than love. Baruch is a good man.”

  It was the first time Rachel had pronounced her fiancé’s name. Up until now it was always “my fiancé.” Avi and Rachel both noticed the change. “You don’t love Baruch,” Avi insisted, picking up on her use of his name. “You can’t let your parents do that to you. This is a new country. We need new ways. New rules. We have to break the old rules.”

  Now she began to panic. What if she were to do this? To tell her parents that she wanted to marry Avi. The weight of her obligations to them crushed her desires. “I can’t. I just can’t,” she said with a tear forming in her eye.

  “Then who’s the hypocrite? Who’s the coward?”

  Rachel looked into his face, an adventurer’s face, and knew the truth. “I am,” she said, openly weeping.

  It was at this moment that Akiba returned. He took one look at their faces and ungracefully tried to reverse back to the bathroom.

  “No, stay,” Rachel said to him. He appeared uncomfortable to have been caught coming back to the table. “Today is not a day for secrets,” Rachel said.

  Slowly, almost clinically, Rachel told Akiba what had happened. “And now I will tell my parents, and then Baruch. Enough. I don’t know how they will respond. If they insist I marry Baruch, and Baruch will still have me, I must marry him. My family promised, on their honor. Baruch could have had many others. If I reject him, he will have difficulties. I must keep my family promise and honor.”

  “But why would Baruch want to marry you if you love Avi?” Akiba asked, scratching his head.

  Rachel looked sadly at her two friends. They didn’t understand the customs of their new country, and she hated having to teach them in such a heartbreaking way. “Because his father promised my father. And there’s the dowry.”

  “It’s business,” Avi said contemptuously. “It’s about money, damn it.”

  “Not for me.”

  Avi didn’t hear these words. “I don’t want your damn money. I want you. I want to have children with you. Poor children. Children who have to work with their hands. Not heirs to some merchant’s fortune.”

  “Calm down,” Akiba said. “I told you they wouldn’t approve.”

  “It’s not just about money—or business either,” Rachel continued. “It’s about tradition and honor and family and a promise. You don’t understand.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Rachel. I understand. I just don’t agree. And neither do you.”

  “Even if I disagree, I have a responsibility.”

  “To whom? To yourself. To your future. To your children. Even to me, if you love me.”

  “I do love you.”

  “Maybe Chaim can help us,” Avi said, referring to Rachel’s uncle whom he had met on the boat and who had arranged for the Hebrew lessons.

  “No,” Rachel responded. “He’s a man of the Old World. He speaks the language of the new. But he walks with a limp of the old. He will side with tradition.”

  She knew she was right, but Avi did not. It was as her mother and aunts often said to her: “You have to let the men decide for themselves what you already know to be true.” She had no choice but to wait for him to be convinced.

  So, with Akiba as chaperone, the pair of would-be lovers walked silently, somberly, in the direction of Chaim’s house.

  When they arrived, Chaim was wearing his customary afternoon suit. He embraced Rachel about the waist and kissed her cheek. “What can I do for you, you three wonderful youngsters? Are the lessons going well?”

  Rachel squeezed his hand and said, “Too well, Uncle Chaim.”

  Chaim immediately understood. “We should summon your parents, Rachel. It is not appropriate to discuss such matters without them.” His demeanor had changed from loving uncle to shrewd businessman in the blink of an eye. Rachel noticed that Avi and Akiba became instantly uncomfortable.

  Rachel’s grip on his hand intensified. “Uncle Chaim, I don’t love Baruch. I love Avi,” she confessed. She began to cry. Avi shuffled his feet awkwardly, and Akiba stared at the floor, absorbed by the sight of his sandals.

  “I am not surprised.” Chaim patted her on the head. “Baruch is like a brother to you. You grew up with him. Avi is an outsider—exciting, a bit mysterious. He’s an adventure. Of course he is more interesting to you for now.”

  Rachel grew hopeful. “You understand!” she exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Chaim comforted. “But in ten years, who will you be more comfortable with? Who will be a better father for children of our heritage?”

  “Excuse me, Chaim. But I’m right here. You’re talking as if I were somewhere else,” Avi said.

  “With all due regard for you, Avi, this is not about you. It is about our family.” His voice was coldly serious, as if he resented Avi’s intrusion into his discussion with Rachel.

  Avi placed his hat in his hand and stepped forward. “I want to be part of your family,” he declared formally. “I love Rachel, and she loves me.”

  “I accept that, but there is the matter of family honor.”

  “Is that more important than Rachel’s happiness?”

  “If I thought you would make Rachel happier over her lifetime than Baruch, then that would be a difficult question to answer. But I have seen this before. Puppy love, lust—call it what you want. It doesn’t last. The first time you have a fight, you will call her a dark-skinned Sephardic bitch. I know. I have seen it.”

  Rachel and Akiba recoiled at his harsh words, but Avi, her brave Avi, soldiered on. “You don’t know me. I will always love Rachel and honor her and her family and her heritage. Please don’t compare me to others.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chaim said, looking at Avi. “I cannot agree. Your parents will not agree. Baruch’s parents will not agree. I know that without even speaking to them. Baruch will not agree. That is our way. That is God’s way. We cannot change it because two young people think they are in love. I’m truly sorry. I’m sorry that you feel the way you do about each other. But you must never see each other again. The Hebrew lessons are over. Akiba, take Avi home to Rishon L’Zion. Avi, have a good life, meet a nice Ashkenazi woman, marry her, have children. You will soon forget Rachel. And, Rachel, you must forget Avi. Baruch must never know of this conversation. Neither must anyone else, including your parents. That is the better way. We must keep this a secret. Secrets are the key to good relationships. You will marry Baruch after the holidays, and you will love him. I promise.”

  Rachel watched as Akiba gently led Avi out of the room, out of the house, out of Jaffa, and out of her life. The last image she had of Avi was of
him wiping angry tears. She thought she also saw a tear in Chaim’s eye.

  Shimshon looked directly at Emma, who was wiping a tear from her eye. He could see that she was angry at the message Shimshon was trying to send her by recounting this tale of unrequited love.

  “Shimshon,” she said, “that was over a hundred years ago. Don’t you think people have evolved?”

  “Emma, there are some traditions that cannot be broken. Habash is an attractive man, a decent man. But his people are at war with our people. He will always see you as a Jew. He was raised that way. Just as I will always see him as an Arab. I was raised that way. Maybe it will be different someday, but I’m afraid that it will not be in your lifetime. I’m sorry, but I must tell you the truth about how I feel.”

  Emma hated to disappoint her loved ones, and listening to her cousin campaign so emotionally against her relationship with Habash made her realize the source of Abe’s discomfort earlier, during their blackboard session.

  Her father did not approve either, though he would never say so directly.

  XL

  The Tell

  THAT EVENING Abe ordered room service and looked forward to a cozy dinner with his two favorite women. At the very least, he hoped a nice meal would lighten Emma’s mood. Since she’d come to the King David Hotel from Shimshon’s, she’d been quiet and unresponsive to his queries about what was on her mind. He hoped that she wasn’t reliving some kind of trauma from her abduction.

  The food had been sitting in the room for twenty minutes before Rendi arrived. She kissed her husband and hugged her stepdaughter. After she kicked off her shoes and sat down at the table where the dinner was laid out, Abe asked her about her meeting.

  “It was good,” she said, smiling. “Dennis wasn’t being entirely straight with me, though,” Rendi announced. “He told me a few interesting things, but I’ll have to work on him a bit to get everything he knows.”

  Emma sat on the chaise and surfed the Web on a laptop while Abe joined his wife at the table. “How do you know he didn’t tell you everything already?” he asked.

  Rendi dipped a bit of bread into a dish of olive oil. “Whenever he’s hiding something, he folds his hands together and puts them in his lap. Almost as if he’s protecting the family jewels. His hands were in his lap a lot.”

  Abe noticed a light in her eye—she loved the cat-and-mouse espionage game, even though she was happily retired.

  “It could be usual spy crap,” she said, clearly enjoying trying to solve this little puzzle. “The people he’s working with want to break the case, or maybe they don’t want anyone to break it. Maybe they want to prevent an international incident. Last thing they want is a bunch of amateurs like us beating them to the guys who did it.”

  Abe thought for a moment. “But he was very helpful to us through Emma’s abduction.”

  Emma spoke without looking away from her computer. “Of course he was. He’s always helpful. He’s a good person. He’ll do anything for Rendi.”

  Abe rolled his eyes. “You just think that because he’s so handsome.”

  Emma raised her hands in the air, to show that she was guilty as charged.

  Rendi began to twist the wedding ring on her finger, a tell of her own that meant she was trying to figure something out. “Emma, maybe he wasn’t helping us only because of our friendship. He might have had an agenda. He works closely with American intelligence. They certainly have an agenda. He’s probably carrying their water.”

  Emma didn’t say anything. She resumed her research, clicking a few buttons on her computer keyboard and staring at the screen.

  “But what is their water?” Abe asked. “Do you think he’s about to break the case?”

  “He doesn’t need the glory of solving this case, Abe,” Rendi said, alluding to his past as a hero. It was true. He was about as famous as a secret agent could comfortably be.

  “How well do you really know him?” Emma asked. Rendi took a moment before speaking, and Abe waited expectantly, hoping she’d answer the question honestly. Abe had accepted Dennis as a fixture in their lives for so long, an “old friend” his wife was exceedingly fond of. There was a connection between the two that Abe didn’t entirely understand, but then again there were so many things about Rendi’s past that she wouldn’t discuss. The exact nature of her relationship with Dennis was one of them.

  “I know him.” Rendi’s voice was full of a gravity it didn’t usually possess.

  “Is he religious?” Emma asked innocently.

  Rendi narrowed her eyes. “Why would you ask that?”

  Emma shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. It seems everybody here has some sort of interest in religion, whether as a spiritual system or a political stance.”

  Rendi smiled softly. “He’s about as antireligion as you get. He’s a fervent atheist. He reads all those books attacking God, religion, the whole works. He used to try to convert everyone around him away from religion. That’s part of why he was always so effective when working on Mideast cases. He was completely objective when it came to religious issues. He hated them all!”

  “It had to be hard being an atheist, growing up in his Irish Catholic family,” Abe mused.

  Rendi sat a tiny bit straighter in her chair. “I don’t know. He didn’t talk much about that. I think he might have been religious as a kid.” She twisted her wedding ring.

  Abe observed his wife. He sensed that they were venturing near one of those “It’s a secret from our past” events that she wouldn’t talk about.

  Rendi continued, unaware of her husband’s suspicions, “But that’s typical of Denny. He doesn’t even like to talk about his heroism—taking the bullet for the veep. You know, he nearly died. It was here in Israel. He was saved by Israeli doctors at the Hadassah Medical Center. He spends a lot of his free time here now; he never did before the shooting.”

  Emma jumped to her feet. “Oh, my God!”

  Abe and Rendi were startled by her sudden outburst.

  Emma gestured wildly with her hands as she spoke, clearly seized by an idea. “One of the first times you brought him to the house—Rendi, remember, I was thirteen or fourteen and gaga over him?—I asked him about the shooting, and he told me that it was a miracle he didn’t die.” Emma stared expectantly at Abe and Rendi, assuming they understood her point.

  Neither of them did. “Where are you going with this?” Abe asked.

  “Dad!” Emma said, frustrated. “Think about it. He’s a fervent atheist, but he said it was a miracle he didn’t die.”

  A grin spread over Rendi’s face, and she laughed out loud.

  “What?” Emma asked defensively.

  “Emma! I love you, but whatever you’re trying to put together, it’s not remotely possible.” Rendi giggled. “It’s just an expression. Like when the Red Sox won the World Series. How many times did your dad claim that was a ‘miracle’? You can’t read anything into his use of that overused word. I’m sorry.”

  “Does Dennis have any connection with TNT?” Emma asked boldly.

  Abe shot her a look.

  “Daddy, what if he developed sympathies with Israeli extremists while he recuperated here? It’s possible. Think about it. A doctor saves Dennis’s life. That same doctor belongs to TNT, the group that planted the bomb. If the doctor is caught, he’s finished. So Dennis covers for him and his group. It’s possible.”

  Abe nodded reluctantly. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look into his Israeli friends, the doctors who saved him.”

  “Abe!” Rendi admonished.

  “Emma has a point, Rendi. He owes his life to them. Quite a debt. Could provide a motive for a cover-up. We have no agenda, other than solving the crime. If the finger points to Israelis, so be it.” Then, looking meaningfully at his wife, he continued, “And if a finger points to your buddy Savage as being part of a cover-up, so be it, too.”

  “Maybe it’s better to be amateurs.” Emma smiled. “We’re only interested in the truth, wherever it
leads. We can ‘handle the truth,’ ” she said, doing her best Jack Nicholson imitation.

  Rendi sat quietly. She rarely found herself in disagreement with her husband, but her family was about to spend time investigating a complete dead end. And though her first loyalties were of course to Abe, she was irritated that he’d cast suspicion on her good friend Dennis.

  XLI

  The Truth

  IT WAS AN INTENSE WOUND,” mused Dr. Eidelman, who had been in the emergency ward, trauma unit, when Savage was medevacked to Hadassah Medical Center in Jerusalem. “Artery in the leg. Lots of bleeding. He came in with a tourniquet that he himself had placed around his thigh. I think it was his tie. It saved his life. We stabilized him, but the bleeding continued intermittently. We kept pumping blood in, and he kept pumping it out.”

  Arthur Eidelman had been Abe’s classmate in Boston, and the two men had run in the same circles; they were each passionate about social causes and supporting Israel in particular. Throughout their college careers, Arthur had spoken of leaving the States and settling in Israel. After medical school he made aliyah and became head of trauma at Hadassah. Abe and Artie had remained in touch over the years, meeting whenever they happened to be in the same city. They had similar political views, they both had children whom they loved very much, and they had both risen to the top of their respective fields. Normally when they got together, they exchanged photos and stories about their daughters. This time it was a professional visit.

  The two men sat in the hospital cafeteria, drinking lukewarm coffee.