Faye Kellerman - Sanctuary

“When do you think we’ll get them back?”

“I’m sure you could get yours back anytime you wanted. As for me, they may take longer to check me out.”

“You’re going in for questioning this afternoon?” Rina asked.

“Looks that way. Kreisman isn’t done with me.”

“He doesn’t trust you.”

“I know. Frankly, I don’t blame him. I’m here for a couple of days and all sorts of bombs start exploding-”

“Peter, you saved the Bursa from blowing up. You’re a hero!”

“I’ll let you in on a clue, Rina. Police are suspicious of heroes.”

“What does he want with you?”

“To go over my case, bit by bit. Frankly, I welcome some fresh input. My main concern right now is finding Dov Yalom. But I sure wouldn’t mind finding Milligan as well.”

“What about Shaul Gold?”

“Yeah, I forgot about him. Where the hell is Gold in all of this? And why was Milligan looking for him?”

Rina paused. “Peter, I have a thought.”

“Shoot.”

“What if Yalom found out about Milligan’s plan to blow up the Bursa? Wouldn’t that be a reason to want him dead?”

Decker waited a beat. “Absolutely.”

“Suppose Milligan thought that maybe Yalom had told his sons…or possibly Gold…about the terrorist plan. Couldn’t that be the reason why Milligan was looking for Gold…or the boys?”

“Absolutely.”

“So maybe that was the reason why Milligan was dealing with Yalom directly. Maybe he was blackmailing her over the Bursa plans.”

“But you can’t blackmail someone for something that hasn’t happened.”

“Maybe she murdered him so she could make it happen. And maybe Arik’s sons found out about it and that’s why they ran.”

Decker ran his tongue in his cheek. “There’s one way to find out. While I’m at the police station, I have a job for you if you’re interested.”

“What?”

“Find Gil Yalom…talk to him.”

“Talk to him about what?”

“See if you can get him to tell you what’s going on.”

“How do I do that?”

Decker shrugged. “It’s intangible. Each person’s different.” He paused. “Hell, even if you can’t get him to talk about the case, just go visit him. Give him some sympathy. The kid’s parents were murdered, he’s scared shitless. He’s a sensitive kid, Rina. Did I tell you about the poetry he wrote? Full of longing and hope for a better world.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Last night he was in terrible shock. Maybe he’s been that way since his parents were murdered. It was Dov who had made the phone calls to his cousin and grandparents. Find Gil. If for no other reason than to tell him he’s got people on his side.”

Rina nodded. “How?”

“You might try calling up the Yaloms. They might know which hospital Gil was admitted to. They might tell you.”

“They’d tell you as well as me. After all, you were the hero yesterday. You’re in today’s paper, you know.”

“I am?”

“The Jerusalem Examiner here. Someone showed me a copy while you were with Kreisman in the Bursa. Apparently, you were here with your wife on vacation, and you just happened to be visiting Or Torah Yeshiva. Suddenly you noticed a suspicious man.” Rina sang out. “Duh-da-duh-duh.”

“I never talked to any reporter.”

“Then someone talked for you. They didn’t quote you. So maybe they got the story from Moti Bernstein.”

“We’re here on vacation, huh?”

“Must be true,” Rina said. “I read it in the papers.”

Decker frowned. “Maybe the Yaloms consider me a hero. Or maybe they’ll blame me for the bomb in the yeshiva, that my investigation put their grandson at risk. If I were you, I’d call them up acting as a concerned citizen. They like you. You speak their language. You’re not an outsider like I am.”

“And if they don’t tell me anything?”

“Then do legwork. Check out the hospitals in Jerusalem.”

“Just go in real casual and ask patient information for Gil Yalom?”

“That sounds simple, but sometimes simple works.”

After an hour’s worth of searching, Rina was certain that Gil wasn’t at Bikur Cholim, Hadassah, or Shaarey Zedek. Which meant he was at one of the smaller Jerusalem hospitals if he hadn’t been transferred out of the city. She checked her map against her list, and started with the closest address-in Emeq Refa’im just off the railroad tracks. Rina remembered the area as residential. Any hospital there was probably small, just a step up from a neighborhood clinic.

She started the Subaru’s engine and took off, wearing the car’s shot-out window like a battle scar. She followed the road through a short business district. At a major intersection filled with stoplights, she turned left and continued, riding on a half-paved, two-lane road lined with apartment houses. When she got to the railroad tracks, the road ended. On her right stood a multistoried stone and glass building completely at odds with its surroundings. She parked the car, got out, and went inside.

The lobby was spacious and flooded with light, the white marble floors gleaming in the sun’s rays. At the door, a guard checked Rina’s purse. She stepped inside, spotted an information booth, then hesitated. Behind the desk was a guard as well as a young woman in a white uniform. She had a pixie face surrounded by short black hair. Two sets of eyes looked at Rina, then peered with suspicion.

Hospital personnel weren’t usually leery. The bombing had scared everyone to heightened awareness.

The best approach?

Rina lowered her eyes and put a slump in her walk. She approached the pixie woman whose name tag said Orly. Rina spoke in Hebrew. “My friend had a terrible miscarriage. I’m here to visit her.”

Orly spoke with efficiency. “The name?”

“Sarah Yardin,” Rina said. “Yardin spelled like the winery.”

Orly consulted her computer. “There is no Yardin here.”

Rina scratched the scarf covering her hair. “Are you sure-”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Can you check again?”

Orly said, “G’veret, I don’t need to check again. There is no Yardin in the hospital.”

“Maybe they accidentally listed her under Sarah.”

Orly sighed. “There is no one here listed under Sarah.”

“Can you just check one more-”

“G’veret-”

“She is my good friend. She was so excited about the baby. The miscarriage was just terrible. I need to see her.”

The guard rolled his eyes.

Rina pressed on. “Once more? Please?”

Orly punched the name back into the computer. “There is no Yardin here.” She turned the terminal around-a list of names beginning with the Hebrew letter yod. “You can see for yourself.”

No Yardin, but a Yalom…room 346. Rina looked upset. “How can that be?”

“I don’t know, g’veret.”

“Thank you,” Rina said, meekly.

“What’s to thank me? I didn’t do anything.”

Rina went back to the car, took off her scarf, and unpinned her hair. Layers of black satin fell down her back. To change her look even further, she untucked her blouse and hiked up her skirt. The final touch was the shades-Peter’s aviator glasses. They were too big for her face, but it gave her the look she wanted.

She studied her reflection in the window of her car-a righteous woman posing as a floozy. She wondered if Tamar felt that way when she was picked up by her father-in-law, Judah.

Coming back into the hospital lobby, she presented her purse for a second time to the same guard. First time out, he didn’t notice her. This time, he did. As he rifled through her purse, his eyes were on her legs.

No wonder terrorists used women.

She went inside the hospital and studied Orly and her henchman from a distance. The woman was good, doing paperwork but constantly scanning the lobby. Rina waited. A young man with flowers came up to Orly’s desk. At the same time, the guard had strolled over to the bathroom.