Avraham Azrieli - The Jerusalem Assassin

“ What about the prince’s own family?”

“ His two wives and nine children live with the rest of the extended family back in Saudi Arabia. When I first met Prince Abusalim last year, I told him that a man without money is a man without power, and hidden money is hidden power, which is tenfold mightier.” Lemmy pointed downward in the direction of the bank’s subterranean vaults. “And I told him that, when it comes to secret money, Zurich is the Haram El-Sharif.”

“ The what? ”

Lemmy pulled a book from a shelf above his desk. He opened it to a page flagged with a blue sticker and showed Christopher a full-page photograph of a walled city crowned by two domes-one silver, one gold.

“ That’s Jerusalem.” Christopher pointed to the golden dome. “I was a volunteer at a kibbutz once, and they took us to all the tourist attractions.”

“Really?” Lemmy was alarmed. His assistant had never mentioned it before. “What made you go to Israel, of all places?”

“You know,” Christopher blushed, “I was a bit rebellious, wanted to piss off my parents. They were old-fashioned Germans, hated Jews, so that’s why I went there.”

Lemmy examined his assistant’s face, but saw no signs of deceit.

“ Didn’t Mohammed ascend to heaven from this location?”

“ For us Christians, it’s the biblical holy temple of the ancient Israelites, where Elijah’s carriage took off in an explosion of fire and smoke.” Lemmy returned the book to the shelf. “A smart banker can benefit from studying clients’ faiths, notwithstanding your personal religion, because there’s always a business opportunity when a rich man’s mind is possessed by spiritual beliefs that cloud his logic and reason.”

Christopher laughed.

“ According to my research, the az-Zubayr tribe has a historic aspiration to rule Haram El-Sharif. Just like the Saudi clan is the Kharass al-Hameini, Guardians of Mecca, the tribe of az-Zubayr claims to be the Kharass El-Sharif, Guardians of the Dome of the Rock.”

“ Isn’t Jerusalem the capital of Israel?”

“The Israelis unified Jerusalem during the Six Day War, but they gave control of Temple Mount to the Muslim Wakf, which is an independent religious council of mullahs. Later, King Hussein of Jordan was pressured by the PLO to give up his rights in the West Bank and Jerusalem. Now Arafat is getting ready to negotiate the final phase of the Oslo Accords, hoping to obtain East Jerusalem as capital of Palestine. But other powers are at play.”

“The prince?”

“Correct. Even though his father has pledged loyalty to the Saudis, Prince Abusalim harbors ambitions to recover the status of Kharass El-Sharif. He must choose who to support-Arafat and the Oslo peace process or the militants committed to destroying Israel.”

“ How would he choose?”

“ Arafat is already getting billions from the Europeans and Americans. His opponents, on the other hand, need money for their anti-Oslo jihad. Prince Abusalim can make a deal with them. When Israel is gone, they’ll anoint him Kharass El-Sharif, Guardian of the Dome of the Rock, restoring the hereditary birthright for the tribe of az-Zubayr.”

“Sounds like a dangerous fantasy.”

“ Clients’ fantasies are a major force in the banking business. What is wealth but a fantasy?” Lemmy sat back in his chair. “He has gotten several deposits through Citibank in New York, right?”

“Yes.”

“Does he maintain an account there?”

“No. It’s a conduit.”

“But Citibank knows where each deposit came from, correct?”

Christopher nodded.

“Will they tell us?”

“Not directly, but when I worked in New York, I noticed a weakness in the system.” Christopher took a piece of paper and scribbled a diagram. “Citibank sent us electronic funds for Prince Abusalim’s account. If we reject the transfer, it would bounce back to Citibank, which in turn would bounce it back to the original bank, which would issue an electronic receipt for the returned funds. Usually the acknowledgment bears the account’s information.”

“ So if we ask on behalf of the client that Citibank provides a copy of the acknowledgment, we’ll see the source of the money?” Lemmy thought for a moment. “Let’s do a partial rejection, a hundred dollars from each deposit, and see what comes back.”

Christopher hesitated. “Without client authorization?”

“It’s in the prince’s interest that we know his affairs, even if he doesn’t realize it.”

“Still early in New York City. We could get a confirmation today, unless they smell a rotten fish and call the prince directly.”

“ It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Lemmy watched Christopher reach the door. “By the way, which kibbutz?”

“ Excuse me?”

“ That summer you spent in Israel, which kibbutz was it?”

“ Oh, it was in the north, near the Lebanese border.” He hesitated. “I’m not sure about the name.”

Lemmy wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. “Was it Haifa?”

“ No, Haifa is a city.” Christopher’s forehead creased in a show of mental effort. “I think…it was called…Gesher.”

*

Shortly after two p.m., Bathsheba noticed another green Peugeot 605. It came from the direction of Ermenonville and made a left turn onto the highway ramp.

Gideon followed. “Get the camera. Elie wants photos. He thinks they might be using decoys to check for tails.”

Bathsheba kept her head straight, looking forward through the front windshield, but positioned the vanity mirror on the sun visor diagonally to give her a clear view through the side window. The green Peugeot passed a group of slower cars and returned to the middle lane. Gideon pressed the gas pedal, changed lanes, and passed it. Bathsheba held the Polaroid camera just below the window sill on the passenger side, raised it briefly, and snapped a photo.

Gideon returned to the middle lane ahead of the Peugeot. He glanced at the rearview mirror. “Driver looks Arab, about forty. Didn’t look at us. I think he’s the same guy who drove this car at the airport. There’s a second man in the back, wearing a fur hat.”

“Abu Yusef!”

“ We don’t know.”

“The same car, the same driver, and Abu Yusef is getting the same treatment as Al-Mazir!”

“We follow and watch. Elie said to do nothing more.”

“Screw Elie.” Bathsheba opened the glove compartment and took out the handgun.

*

“ It worked!” Christopher waved a sheet of paper like a flag. “I got acknowledgements with the names of the sources. Here, I listed each one with the amount transferred.”

Lemmy examined the list. An $11 million deposit had come from J.C. Jameson amp; Co., an international wheat dealer in Kansas. An additional $7.5 million from Seattle Air and Jet Inc., a manufacturer of replacement parts for fighter jets. And $13 million from F. Lucas and Sons, a canned foods processer in Virginia. It went on-a list of leading corporations in the various industries. “This is incredible,” he said. “Great job!”

His assistant was grinning with pride.

“ I’ll keep this.” He patted the list of companies that had bribed Prince Abusalim az-Zubayr. “Needless to say, don’t mention this to any of our colleagues.”

*

Gideon snatched the handgun from Bathsheba. “Abu Yusef isn’t stupid. He won’t use this car himself after it’s been seen.”

“Maybe he’s out of money. He can’t walk to Paris.”

The sign showed an exit for the Peripherique, the beltway that circled Paris. Gideon slowed down and let the green Peugeot pass him two lanes away. It took the exit, merged onto the Peripherique, and headed west. They followed. A couple of minutes later, the Peugeot took the exit for Avenue de Saint Ouen.