by Rose Fox
“Cappuccino with a lot of milk,” she answered and he looked at her and thought how attractive he found her.
They sat at a table on the sidewalk. Large pots with artificial plants were arranged around the café’s sidewalk area. Two women sat at the table beside them and Ayalon looked in their direction. Clearly, he was not interested in sharing what he had to say with anyone else. Abigail had the feeling that there was a connection between their meeting and Gil’s disappearance and she waited to hear what he had to say.
She did not want to open the conversation and she gazed at the passers-by and afterwards the waitress arrived with their coffee. When she left, Adam began.
“Would you be prepared to handle his case?"
“Absolutely not,” she replied immediately and Ayalon remained silent. He tore open a small sachet of sugar, added the contents to his coffee and stirred it slowly.
“You know, no one planned the escape,” he whispered.
She still kept her silence and he continued speaking.
“Nevertheless, I know that if he would have sat in prison he wouldn’t have survived. It’s very complicated and he’s frightened to talk. And there’s something more. He was in the cab and saw who killed the driver.”
“So, why doesn’t he tell his side of the story?”
“If he were to tell what he saw, he knows he would pay with his life. That’s why he kept his silence at the trial.”
“I regret I can’t help in this case,” she replied.
She wanted to terminate the meeting and she stood up, quickly adding:
“Thank you for your trust.”
Adam put his hand on her arm in an attempt to stop her.
“Abigail, please listen to me patiently for a minute. The young man has a clean record. He has never committed a crime.”
She sat down again, looked the judge in the eye.
“That may be so, but because he ran away, he will pay for a crime he didn’t commit,” she said. “There’s almost no chance they will believe him now, is there?”
This time, he remained silent and she continued detailing the facts she knew.
“Look, his binder is photographed lying in the cab of the victim. He runs away at the beginning of his trial when the alternate judge gives the instruction not to arrest him for murder.” She continued speaking as she tapped her finger on the table in rhythm with the statements she made.
“I have never heard or know of a more classic case of obvious guilt. Pe-ri-od.”
“Well said, Abigail, that’s the reason I am turning to you today. Because he hasn’t a chance of exoneration and it’s for something he didn’t even do. You’re the only one who could defend him in the present situation.”
She leaned towards the judge as if sharing a secret with him and asked: “Would you acquit an accused person, who ran away at the beginning of his trial?"
“Never”, he admitted and added with a bitter smile, “Even without the escape, I don’t think I would have acquitted him. I admit, everything points to his guilt; the findings at the scene of the crime and his behavior, not to mention the behavior the daughter of the murdered cab driver.”
His hand sought out Abigail’s arm and rested on it.
“Abigail, he’s my nephew and he’s a very fine young man.”
Since she did not recoil from his touch or withdraw her hand, he continued quietly and whispered to her.
“Only you can understand that. You, who were raised at someone else’s expense and taken from your home and your tribe; only you can understand how I feel.”
Abigail glanced at him briefly. She wasn‘t certain how much he knew about her life but she whispered back in reply,
“And now this successful young man is ruining and staining the reputation of a judge in Israel.”
Ayalon looked at her with veiled eyes and then glanced away. The women at the adjacent table moved their chairs noisily. They got up, chattering and laughing and went out onto the sidewalk. A sudden breeze blew the red and white checkered cloth and it twisted around the small saucer of a coffee cup. Lost in thought, Abigail straightened out the cloth.
“Abigail, help me.”
“Where is he?” she asked.
“Not here, somewhere else,” he replied.
“Does somewhere else have a name?”
“Yes, it’s, on an island that once had a mandate on our little country,” he tried to be smart, “that will remain nameless, please.”
“How did he get there?”
“He got there.”
“I have to have more details and contact with him.”
“You don’t have to worry about being paid.”
“I’m not worried. Nevertheless, my trip there has to be financed.”
“Done. Whatever you wish, my dear. I think I’m growing very fond of you. No, I really am.” He held her arm and pressed his fingers till he hurt her.
“I won’t travel there alone. I’ll need a friend to come with me to cover. Of course, she won’t know the reason for our trip; you can be sure of that.”
“I am sure, very sure,” he said and added after a moment: You’ll see, he’s innocent, he didn’t…”
“Leave that for now.”
That evening, she wrote a request to join Gil Ayalon’s defense team and submitted it to the district court the following morning.
Four days after Gil’s escape, she appeared before the police, as his appointed attorney and asked to see the file and the findings from the scene of the crime.
There were photographs in the file. The photos of the carton binder labelled “Gil Ayalon” in black marker baffled her. The binder had been too carefully placed on the passenger seat and there was also the picture of the driver, leaning over and falling towards the open door, his face smeared with his blood.
Her first suspicion was that the bullet that hit him came from his right, from the passenger seat, once more raising the question of whether Gil could have shot him when he rode in the passenger seat on his right.
What she found later in the cab itself refuted these suspicions. On the window of the right door there was a spider web of cracks with a bullet hole in the center that showed that the bullet had been fired from outside. She was puzzled and didn’t understand how this fact had not emerged in Gil Ayalon’s defense.
All that remained for her to do was to find the youngster and bring him home and then persuade him to tell his side of the story.
* * *
It took Abigail no more than a day to arrange for Rina, her schoolmate from ‘The Home’, to join her on the flight to London.
They arrived at their hotel during the day and noticed a pub on the corner. That evening they got dressed up and went down three steps from the sidewalk and entered it.
Red lights glowed in the faint light and the dark atmosphere was romantic. They chose a table, sat down and glanced at each other suddenly.
“Oh, look who’s sitting here! What’s he doing here?” Rina whispered. She nodded towards the person sitting in front of them, but before she managed to hear Abigail’s answer, the figure rose and came towards them.
“Hello! Now that we’ve bumped into one another, at least come and join me at my table,” he said and looked into Abigail’s eyes, directing his invitation towards her.
Both young women were embarrassed. Sitting beside Justice Ayalon was an honor for Rina and something of a surprise for Abigail.
“It seems to me that we are all here for the same reason,” he said and returned to his table. He waved his hand dramatically and bowed slightly to invite them to join him. Clearly the judge was rather cheerful and perhaps even a little tipsy. Rina threw a quick ‘do we have any choice?’ glance at Abigail but was cautious to stay close to her.
“Young ladies, life are full of surprises, so let’s enjoy ourselves.”
He beckoned to a dark-skinned girl, wearing a silvery sparkling bathing suit. The girl came to their table.
“What would you like to drink?” Adam asked them
and answered in their place:
“Same as me, for both of them.”
A small light kerchief lay beside Abigail. He caught it in his hand and asked, “May I?” and without waiting to hear her response, he dabbed the perspiration off his forehead, let it rest for a moment near his nose and inhaled her aroma. Right after that he spread it out in front of him and looked at it. A delicate and beautiful figure was embroidered in its corner in a thread that turned from pink to red.
Abigail stared at the tipsy judge. He poured wine into three glasses and paid a lot of attention to the height of the liquid in each glass, pouring wine from glass to glass to make their level equal.
“Ayalon, what’s the story?” She asked him, lowering her head to make eye contact.
“There’s no story. You’re two beautiful girls and suit my plans very well.” He said in a voice that was a little too loud and drunken. He continued measuring the level of the wine he had poured into the glasses.
“Ayalon, why are you here? I mean, you knew I’d be here,” she repeated obstinately.
The man appeared to be gathering his full strength of mind to focus on answering when he suddenly sounded completely sober. He rested his hand on her arm and said:
“I’m here on my business and you’re here on yours. It’s all a game and a big show, so let’s carry on celebrating.”
Abigail shook off his hand and he abruptly pulled himself together, looked at her as if seeing her for the first time and said. “I’m just talking; it’ll pass.”
He burped and laughed. Abigail looked even more attractive in the rosy light and the judge surrendered to his heart when he asked her:
“Come, dance with me, my lovely one, and let’s enjoy the evening.”
Abigail only vaguely remembered the rest of the evening and recalled nothing of the dance or the car ride afterwards, which she didn’t even remember making.
A terrible headache pounded her temples, nausea and dizziness flooded her. She looked around and was startled. Abigail found herself alone, in an unknown room. She sat up and held her forehead. The room spun around her and she closed her eyes, trying to remember how she had gotten there. She was terrified when she realized she was completely naked.
“Rina?” she called out quietly and then raised her voice. “Rina!”
Her purse lay on a metal chair. She pulled out her phone and quickly dialed Rina’s number. Rina picked up and Abigail heard her friend’s sleepy voice. Her eyes opened wide in surprise when she heard Rina’s questions.
“How was it? Where are you now?”
“Rina, I’m confused, I’m in someone's room. How did I get here and with whom?”
“Abigail, you were tipsy, you sang and laughed like I never knew you could. You danced and sang in Arabic and you were so happy and so was I, for you. When you could hardly stand up anymore, our judge suggested taking you.”
“The judge? Oh dear!” She remembered and her eyes opened wide. She didn’t understand.
“Why didn’t you come, too?”
Rina laughed. “You leaned against him and clung to him. You looked very satisfied and to tell the truth I felt I was in the way.”
“That’s not true. I don’t… Oh, my head aches. Enough! How do I get back to you?”
“I’ve no idea. Go out and find out where you are. Perhaps you can get here by yourself or I’ll come to you. By the way, you did say you were alone, didn’t you?”
Abigail didn’t answer. She ended the conversation, and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Thoughts raced through her mind under the streaming lukewarm water.
‘What would Judge Ayalon think of her and how would she be able to appear before him at a respectable court hearing after her shameful behavior?’
Then, her curiosity was aroused. What had happened to him? Had he come with her to the room in as drunken a state as she was and where was he?
After showering, she went back to bed, turning from side to side as she tried to rouse herself and clear her mind of the alcohol fumes. It was only in the afternoon that she remembered the reason for her trip and immediately made a phone call.
She heard the ringing of the phone till voicemail picked it up and she left a message for Gil to call her back.
A light knock at the door startled her. Abigail got out of bed quickly, pulled a shirt slung on the back of a chair over her head and put on a pair of pants she found thrown on the floor as she called out in the direction of the door, in Hebrew.
“Wait, just a second,” then she went to the door and opened it just a little.
“Someone wants to speak to you on the phone, Ma’am,” the man standing on the blue carpet that stretched along the corridor, said to her in English.
“Yes, I’ll take the call. Who’s calling? Where?”
The man walked ahead and she trailed after him. The receiver lay on the counter, waiting for her.
Abigail put the receiver to her ear, fearing what she was about to hear and quietly said,
“Yes.”
“Abigail, it’s me, Adam. I don’t know how we landed up in the room together. I left to give you a chance to get organized. I’ve no idea what happened between us. I just want you to know that we were both, completely naked.”
Abigail mumbled something into the phone, replaced the receiver on the counter and almost ran back to the room. She heard the ringtone on her cell phone, which had been left on the table in the room and barely managed to answer the call in time.
“You were looking for me; who are you?” the voice said.
“It’s me,” she answered casually, then suddenly remembered and straightened up:
“Gil, you need me. Just, not on the phone.”
“I don’t need anyone. Just remind me, who are you?”
“I’m Abigail. Ayalon…”
“You said Ayalon, that’s all you have to say! Yes, I’m listening.”
“It’s nine now. Let’s meet around ten in the H&O mall. I’ll be wearing a short black pants suit, your partner for a day of fun.”
“I’ll be there and I’ll be wearing black jeans, a dark shirt and a peaked cap.” He hung up.
Ten o’clock had already passed and still, there was no sign of a young man in black jeans. Abigail leaned against a shining stainless steel rail in the clothing store. The shoppers moved from one counter to another, people touched the clothes, unfolded them to look at them or went into a change cubicle. They all chattered and went about their business and she was tempted to check out the clothes on the mannequin beside her, when she heard a voice say,
“Let’s look at the jeans in the change cubicle over there.”
“I already have, they don’t suit me.” She answered immediately.
“You know, it wasn’t me.”
“Okay, that’s clear. So, who was it?”
“Listen, Jacki, the driver, Julia’s father, apparently smelled danger, I mean, with regard to the package he had picked up. Otherwise, I can’t explain why he asked me to join him for the trip.”
“Wait, go slower. Convince me it wasn’t you.”
She approached a counter where there were no shoppers, just a pile of shirts that were all green.
“Look, they’re all green, I love that color,” she said.
“Sure, almost like your eyes. Do you know they’re gorgeous?” he asked and added with an alluring smile:
“After all, we’ve met for a day of fun, haven’t we? That’s what you said.”
Abigail was not indifferent to the guy’s appearance. His hadn’t shaved in almost a week and he looked completely different from the pictures she had seen of him. He looked manlier and she knew she would not have been able to recognize him had he not approached her.
“You look different,” she said.
“Yes, and that’s good, but I’m under pressure.” He thanked her and his eyes crinkled up when he smiled.
“Are you trying to say that Taub was involved in something else? Something that made him understand he needed
you to accompany him?”
She unfolded a green shirt and held it up to herself as she looked in the tall mirror on the pillar in front of her.
“Take it off, it doesn’t suit you at all,” he said and pulled the shirt away from her and threw it back on the tidy pile of folded shirts.
“Yes and no.” he replied, “He was only the messenger. But, from experience, he knew there was something fishy about it. I’m surprised he didn’t decide to turn down the job.”
“Money always talks. Give me more details of what happened there.”
“As we reached the place where he was waiting, someone simply grabbed the package from him.”
“So, someone knew he was coming and what he was bringing, right?”
“It seems so because at that same moment they started coming down on him, as if he was still holding the package.”
“Because they knew what was in the package he brought and it was important to kill the messenger?” She wondered and in a very quiet voice, added, “So why didn’t they try to get rid of you, too?”
Instead of an answer, he said suddenly, “look at that guy in the corner of the store facing us. He resembles…” Then he retreated and hid in the shadows, pulling Abigail with him and they dashed outside. In his flight he overturned a chair outside. Abigail spun round to look in the direction he had indicated and saw a young man, dark skinned with soft dark curls, who was looking in a completely different direction. She knew Sharif but did not realize he had been sent by Adam to follow them. Now, when he heard the chair fall and the sound of their running, he turned his gaze in their direction.
Two days later, they returned to Israel. Abigail accompanied Gil to the Yarkon Street police station. She waited for them to secure him in the armored police car which was like a travelling prison cell. Before they left, she heard one of the cops say. “Check it out again, we're not taking any chances.”
The following morning, Gil took the stand and was questioned by the prosecutor, Advocate Aaron Bialik.
“Did you see who shot the driver and do you know his name?”
“I saw him, but I don’t know him.”
“What did he look like?”
“I don’t remember exactly. I can only say that he was a dark-skinned man, who spoke Arabic.”