The Bar Mitzvah Murder

by Lee Harris

  “Hutzot Hayotzer.”

  I said nothing. The words were just too much for me.

  “Are you with me?” Mel asked.

  “I am with you all the way.” I inched the car into the street. “What’s my first turn?”

  It was pleasing to recognize streets and buildings as we drove. I actually sensed we were approaching the King David Hotel when Mel said, “It’s coming, our turn. Stay left.”

  There wasn’t more than one lane of functioning traffic in each direction, but I made sure I was near the center of the street.

  “Lincoln,” Mel said triumphantly. “Turn left.”

  I made the turn after waiting for a long line of cars to cross the intersection. Behind me, a horn sounded. I had learned to take it in stride. They did the same in New York, I told myself. “What now?” I asked as I completed the turn.

  “My aunt said it’s a curvy street, all downhill. Just follow it.”

  Her aunt had not exaggerated. The street went around and down for quite a stretch. “Are we near the Old City?” I asked.

  “Yes. Very near.”

  “OK,” I said finally. “We’ve bottomed out. What now?”

  “Uh, let’s see. Go left.”

  I turned.

  “See the parking on the right? Pick your spot. We’ve arrived.”

  We had indeed. The parking lot was behind a long row of buildings. We got out and walked around the buildings to a street that was more of an intermittent staircase with shops on either side.

  “It’s on the left,” Mel said. “Just a little ways up.”

  And then we were there. We stopped to look in the window that ran across the front of the shop. Everything in it was beautiful and intriguing and, I was sure, far too expensive for my pocketbook.

  “It’s Roman glass,” Mel said. “About two thousand years old.”

  “The colors are fantastic.”

  “My aunt said the Romans tossed their garbage out the window, it got buried, and in the earth the glass, which was clear to begin with, picked up minerals from the earth and turned all these incredible colors.”

  “I’m not buying anything,” I said defensively.

  “Who are you trying to convince?” Mel gave me the grin.

  “I’ll just watch you have a good time.”

  We went inside. I scanned the shelves while Mel introduced herself as her aunt’s niece. The owner, a pleasant-looking man with dark hair starting to recede and a warm smile, recalled exactly what the aunt had bought and welcomed us cordially. While Mel was busy with earrings and pendants, I admired small animals made of Roman glass and silver sitting on open shelves, marveling at the work that had gone into them. I saw chains with unique links, a bracelet that I realized was a piece of the Jerusalem skyline. There were some pieces in gold, too, and they were breathtaking.

  “I’m getting something for Sari, Chris. Help me out.”

  I walked over to the counter, looking at the earrings and pendants lying on black velvet. “This is lovely,” I said. “The blues and greens are wonderful.”

  “Do you think it’s too big?”

  “Mm.”

  “How about this one?”

  “This one” was yellows, browns, and greens. And it was smaller. “Stay with the blues,” I said. “She’ll grow up.”

  “Done.”

  “What a lovely cross,” I said, looking at one in the case.

  “Are you Christian?” the owner asked.

  “I’m Catholic.”

  He took the cross out and I held it. He put it on a chain and I fastened it around my neck. “Lovely,” I said again, taking it off and laying it down carefully.

  “My friend is not in a buying mood,” Mel explained.

  The owner smiled and put the cross back in the case.

  “It’s really nice, Chris.”

  “I know.”

  “Sari’s going to love this. And I’m going to love the earrings and now I have to get something for my aunt. She commissioned me.”

  “What a nice task.”

  “You bet.”

  I wandered around the small shop once again. “I’ll wait for you outside,” I said, leaving her to her pleasure.

  I went up the steps to the street at the top and realized the wall of the Old City was just across the street. I turned and went back down, looking at the shop windows on the other side of the walking street. As I reached the shop, Mel came out.

  “What did you get your aunt?” I asked.

  “Earrings. Great store, huh?”

  “The best we’ve seen.”

  “That’s a beautiful cross.”

  “It gives me a reason to come back.”

  It was Mel’s last day. We found our way back to Nachalat Shiva, where we had had our first lunch last week, and had our last one together at the same place. Mel was nostalgic, sad at leaving, happy she had come, and reflective about Gabe.

  “I have to say,” she said when we were sitting at one of the little round tables waiting for our hummus salad and Cokes, “I don’t think anyone will ever find out who killed him.”

  “We’ve made progress, Mel. The young man I talked to yesterday, David Schloss, who arranged for those men to take the van, I think he may know more about who they are than he’s letting on. The police may be able to get something out of him.”

  “I hope so. With all of us leaving the country, there won’t be anyone here to put pressure on them. Gabe was a good man. Whoever did this should pay a price.”

  “Don’t give up.”

  We made a quick tour of the shops, but just to look. Then I dropped Mel at her hotel and went back to the American Colony and called Joseph.

  She was as surprised to hear my voice as I was happy to hear hers. We spent only a minute or two on small talk. Then I told her about the kidnapping and murder of Gabriel Gross.

  “Chris, what a terrible thing to happen. On such an important and happy trip.”

  “With all his closest friends and relatives around,” I added. “It’s quite mysterious.”

  “And that’s the purpose of your call.”

  “I just didn’t want to wait till we got home to talk to you. In case there’s something that strikes you as important that I can still look into while we’re here.”

  “Well, I’ve just reached over for my stack of clean paper and I have a couple of sharpened pencils nearby. Let’s get started.”

  As I usually did, I had my notebook open to the page where I had begun jotting down facts and impressions. I went through them in chronological order, finishing with my productive day yesterday, the interviews where the body had been found, the scrap of paper with the plate number of the fake ambulance, and the subsequent trip to the Karpens’ store near King George Street and Ben Yehuda Street, followed by the taxi ride to Bethlehem Road.

  “Oh,” I said after I had told her about the talk I had with David Schloss that included his admissions about the “borrowed” van, “I read Gabe’s will last night.”

  “And?”

  “And there isn’t anything you wouldn’t expect to find in the disposition of a rich man’s wealth. It all looks quite in order.”

  “No unidentified names getting subtantial sums? No, that’s a foolish question. You’ve thought of that. So what do we have? A man enjoying one of the happiest occasions of his life, surrounded by the people he loves the most, and he’s whisked away when he apparently falls ill and no one finds him till he’s dead.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And at home, five thousand miles away, a possible illegal entry of his house.”

  “Possible, yes.”

  “But nothing missing either from the house or from the safe.”

  “Marnie didn’t mention the house, but I expect we would have heard from her if she’d found something missing. She said nothing was gone from the safe.”

  “And you believe her?”

  “I don’t know. I have no reason not to. And she seems genuinely distraught at the even
ts.”

  “Understandably. Chris, the young man who borrowed or allowed the van to be taken, what’s your appraisal of him? Do you think he was involved in this?”

  “I don’t. I can’t imagine he would have spoken to me if he’d had a hand in this. He could very easily have ducked out when he saw me at his mother’s door. But he seemed genuinely curious about what was going on.”

  “And the police have still not found the van or the men who were in it.”

  “Not unless something happened in the last few hours.”

  “If the house was actually entered, then we’ve had important events on this side of the ocean. I would imagine all this was orchestrated from the United States by someone with connections to Israel.”

  “I agree.”

  “Another thing: If Mrs. Gross had had a hand in this, why wouldn’t she just have given someone the security code and the key, as well as the combination to her safe? Then there would have been no need to hurt or eventually murder her husband.”

  “True.”

  “Which would indicate that she knew nothing about this murder. Unless, of course, she was planning to leave her husband because there was someone she wanted to take up with—and have her husband’s money to boot.”

  “The family seems to think she’s a good and loving wife.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time a family misjudged a situation like this. However, it’s something I can’t really say anything about. It’s the break-in that’s so intriguing, Chris. Why break in if you don’t take anything?”

  “The question we’ve all been asking ourselves for several days.”

  “There is, of course, another possibility.”

  “Oh?” I said, feeling eager for her next comment.

  “It’s always possible that they didn’t break into the safe to remove anything. They may have put something in it.”

  “Mm,” I said, my head starting to work. “Any ideas?”

  “Not offhand, but it’s something we should both think about. What would someone put into a safe?”

  “And why would Marnie not mention that she had found it?”

  “Maybe because she isn’t aware of it. Someone could have substituted a fake jewel for a real one. I’m sure I’ve read books where that was done.”

  “Then I should ask Marnie to have her jewelry looked at by an expert.”

  “It might be a good idea. What else did they keep in that safe?”

  “Important papers. Insurance policies, things like that.”

  “And they’re all there, too.”

  “So she said.”

  “Well, this must be costing you a fortune, Chris, and I know you’re not a spendthrift. Let’s both think about this. If anything else comes up, there’s a less expensive way of reaching me. Believe it or not, Sister Dolores’s niece gave her a laptop computer for her birthday. It has e-mail on it and she’ll be glad to print out your message and deliver it to me.”

  “Dolores?” I said. “What a wonderful gift.” Dolores was one of Eddie’s favorite nuns. She’s a great cookie baker and always has a bag of goodies for him when we visit together.

  “From a wonderful woman. Anyway, it’s good to have someone here who knows something about the Internet, whatever that is.” She gave me Dolores’s address and I wrote it on the pad next to the telephone.

  “We circled the Sea of Galilee last weekend, Joseph,” I said.

  “Chris, we will have to spend an afternoon together when you return. Those words have given me goose bumps.”

  “And me, too, while we were there. And I was taken on a guided tour through the Old City.”

  “And went to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.”

  “Yes.”

  “Before I am done in by envy, we’d better say good-bye.”

  “You’ll make this trip yourself one day; I promise.”

  “That will certainly be the day. Kiss your son for me, please. And a big hug to your husband.”

  “I will do that.”

  20

  I called Mel and got Marnie’s phone number. I wanted to tell her to take her jewelry to a qualified person and have him look at it. The phone rang several times and was picked up by the housekeeper, who was reluctant to bother Mrs. Gross. I explained where I was calling from and Marnie picked up a moment later.

  “This is Chris,” I said.

  “In Jerusalem?”

  “Yes. I have to ask you something. The jewelry you keep in your safe, is it diamonds and other precious stones?”

  “Some of it. I also have gold chains and some expensive watches.”

  I sketched out what Joseph had said.

  “You think someone replaced real stones with paste?”

  “It’s possible. We have to check out every possibility. Someone killed your husband and we don’t know why.”

  “But I’ve never lent my jewelry to anyone. No one could substitute a fake if they hadn’t seen or photographed the real thing.”

  “Maybe they photographed it when you were out.”

  “You mean a friend of ours did this?” She sounded incredulous.

  “They may not have intended to kill Gabe, just get into the safe and exchange the jewels.”

  “It’s preposterous.”

  Her reaction didn’t surprise me. Had someone suggested that one of our friends had done something similar, my reaction would have been exactly the same. “Will you ask someone to look at your jewels, Marnie?”

  Something like a moan traveled the wire. “Yes. You’re right, Chris. I have to look at everyone and everything. I’ll let you know when I’ve done it.”

  I decided to go downstairs and look at the shop across the way once again. As I got off the elevator, I saw a familiar face. I walked over. “Mr. Kaplan,” I said.

  “Ah, here she is.” He turned away from the desk and smiled at me. I didn’t smile back. “I hoped I would find you, Mrs. Brooks.”

  “Mr. Kaplan, I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t who you said you were.”

  “Of course I am. What seems to be the problem?”

  “You aren’t in the hotel you said you were in. I called.”

  “Yes, you’re right. I checked out.”

  “You were never there.” I looked him straight in the eye.

  “You’re mistaken, my dear. Why don’t we have a cup of coffee and talk?”

  I thought that was fairly safe, so we went to the garden restaurant. We ordered coffee and he asked them to bring some small cakes. I had the feeling I was being buttered up.

  “I’m sorry the hotel told you something false,” he said when the ordering was done.

  “I also called the other hotel, the one where Gabriel Gross was kidnapped from. You weren’t a guest there, either.” I heard myself sound rather unfriendly, but I was getting tired of being lied to. I thought he was spying on me, trying to determine how much I knew. Whom he represented I could not imagine. I don’t think of criminals as roly-poly men in their seventies, but perhaps that is just a vestige of age discrimination.

  “Ah, Mrs. Brooks. You are indeed a detective. I assure you, I have not lied to you. I was a friend of Gabe’s father, I knew Gabe as well. I saw the ambulance, just as I described it to you.”

  “Who were the men driving it?” I asked.

  “I told you, I have no idea. I saw the driver at the wheel—”

  “Yes, I remember your story. What else do you have to tell me?”

  The coffee was served. He dropped a cube of sugar into his cup and stirred it with the small spoon, not looking at me. “I am a businessman,” he said finally, taking a sip of his coffee. “Please help yourself to some cakes. They’re very delicious.”

  I took one, waiting for something of substance to come from this man.

  “A mostly retired businessman nowadays, although I don’t like to think of myself that way. I knew Gabe; I knew his father. I did business with both of them. I am as anxious as you to find out who kidnapped and murdered Gabe.”
>
  “Then why don’t you take what you know to the police? I’m a tourist here in Jerusalem. I’m only interested in the Gross case because I know a cousin of Gabriel. If you know something, the right thing to do is give it to the police.”

  “I rather think not.” He helped himself to a chocolate cake and ate a small forkful. “Have you made any progress finding the killer?”

  I was really feeling very frustrated at this point. “Mr. Kaplan, you said you wanted to help me, but in fact, you’re pumping me for information. I don’t know who you are or what your real name is.”

  He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a U.S. passport and passed it to me across the table. I opened it and looked first at the picture. It was definitely of the man opposite me. Then I checked the name. Simon J. Kaplan. I handed it back to him.

  “You see, I am who I say I am. If I shaded the truth a little when I told you where I was staying, I apologize.”

  “You didn’t shade the truth; you lied to me.”

  “Well, let that be. In business, I was a diamond merchant. I was a member of the Diamond Dealers Club in Manhattan.”

  “What could diamonds have to do with Gabe’s work?”

  “Sometimes people convert assets into stones. Such business makes the assets both liquid and easily portable.”

  “Are you telling me that Gabe did?”

  “I am telling you I did business with him.”

  “Why are we talking? Is there something you want to tell me? Because I don’t have a lot of time.” I looked at my watch pointedly and realized that what I had just said was no exaggeration.

  “Have they found the ambulance Gabe was taken away in?” he asked rather casually.

  “I doubt it.”

  “Do you know where it is?”

  “Do you?”

  He smiled. “I have an idea. I believe it was stolen and I think it has been returned, or will be soon.”

  “Mr. Kaplan, how can you possibly know that?”

  “I have sources. I believe Gabriel Gross was in possession of stolen diamonds when he was kidnapped.”

  I stared at him. “How do you know that?”

  “I don’t know it for certain. I believe it to be true. Not all his business was kosher, as we say.”

  I knew the expression. “Where did these diamonds come from?” I asked.