Avraham Azrieli - The Jerusalem Assassin

“ A bit peculiar,” Itah said.

“ I knew that Jerusalem’s heroic sacrifice on the battlefield would prod you to act.” Elie rubbed his hands. “I’m glad you understand. Surely you didn’t think I would falsely imply that Lemmy really is alive. I mean, that would be too far-fetched.”

They had checked into a suite at the King David Hotel and helped Elie into bed to ease his shortness of breath. He was still wearing the dress Benjamin’s wife had lent them but had taken off the headscarf and glasses. As Itah had proposed, they didn’t tell Elie about their visit to the cemetery the previous night or about their investigation of Freckles and Yoni Adiel. Her theory was that Elie’s lies might reveal more about his agenda than anything he would tell them if he knew how much they had discovered already.

“ No hard feelings,” Elie said. “I hope.”

“ Even now,” the rabbi said, “after so many years, any mention of his name hurts.”

“Your son’s death was a tragic loss,” Elie said. “Such a promising young man. And what’s most upsetting, I’m sure, is how unnecessary it was. Basically, if not for Tanya’s seduction, he would never have left Neturay Karta. If not for that woman’s irresistible allure, he would be alive today. That must make you very angry with her. It makes me angry with her!”

“Let my son rest in peace, would you?” Rabbi Gerster was barely able to conceal his rage. It was hard to believe he had once fought the Nazis with Elie Weiss, had served as his mole among the ultra-Orthodox, had followed his commands and trusted his idealism. By now it had become all too clear that this diminutive man was a colossal liar. “I got you out of Hadassah,” he said. “Now tell me what’s going on. Everything!”

“Of course.” Elie smirked. He obviously thought that his manipulation had worked, that he was now in control. “Did you attend the Likud rally last night?”

“We did.”

“I would have liked to have been there, see the action firsthand.” Elie used the remote to turn on the TV. “They didn’t let me watch the news.”

On the screen, talking heads criticized Likud leaders Sharon and Netanyahu for tolerating the multitudes of placards showing Prime Minister Rabin in Nazi uniform and in PLO headdress, as well as the crowd’s vicious chants, especially those calling for his death. But at the end of the program, as if in an afterthought, the moderator mentioned that opinion polls conducted on the morning after the rally show Netanyahu leading Rabin by nine points among likely voters.

“Everything’s falling into place,” Elie said quietly, almost in a whisper. “All according to plan.” But before Rabbi Gerster could ask him anything else, his head slumped, and he began to snore.

*

Part Five

The Duplicity

Monday, October 30, 1995

The Mediterranean glittered with whitecaps as the plane began its descent toward Tel Aviv. Over the years, in moments of weakness, Lemmy had imagined visiting Israel. He knew he could never return as Jerusalem Gerster. That boy had died, and Wilhelm Horch had taken his place. He had a wife, a son, and possibly a baby on the way. And his position in Zurich was about to become even more powerful when he permanently assumed Herr Hoffgeitz’s job. He had once considered taking Paula and Klaus Junior on a sightseeing vacation to Israel, but Elie had forbidden it, reasoning that someone might recognize Lemmy and blow his cover.

The coast appeared in the window, a strip of golden sand between the breaking waves and the towering hotels. Beyond the beach, Tel Aviv was an urban sprawl, stretching as far as he could see.

The KLM plane turned in a wide sweep over the southern outskirts of the metropolis and touched down with a healthy bump on a runway bordered by plowed fields.

The immigration control agent took one look at Lemmy’s Dutch passport and laughed. “Baruch Spinoza!” She spoke loudly enough for her colleagues at the other counters to hear. “It’s an honor to welcome you to the Jewish homeland!”

Lemmy voicelessly cursed Carl. “Thank you. Happy to be here.”

“I’ve studied Ethics at the university. Clever how you questioned God’s existence without actually expressing blasphemy.”

“Appreciate the compliment. The late philosopher is my great-great-great-great-uncle. And I don’t think he questioned God’s existence, but rather suggested that God and nature could be the same, philosophically speaking.”

“As I said, clever.” She smiled. “And the purpose of your visit to Israel?”

“Shopping.” He chuckled at the sight of her raised eyebrows. “Car parts. I restore classics as a hobby, always looking for missing pieces-doors, windows, handles, mirrors, a hood, this and that.”

“Good luck.” She handed him the passport. “There’s a street bearing your name in Tel Aviv. Check it out, take a photo, lay a wreath, you know?”

“I’ll do all three.” He passed through to the luggage area, still smiling. That was the sabra spirit he remembered-direct and irreverent!

*

Itah went downstairs to thank the PR director, a close friend who had arranged for the suite the previous day. She returned with pastries, coffee, and clothes for Elie.

They sat on the balcony, the three of them facing the view of the Old City rather than each other.

Elie pointed. “The border used to run right under this hotel.”

“ Let me guess,” Itah said. “You two worked together?”

“ At the time,” Rabbi Gerster said, “there was a concern that the ultra-Orthodox would rebel against the secular government. I worked with SOD to keep the extremists in check.” He put down his coffee cup. “I used to take the men of Neturay Karta to pray within sight of Temple Mount every Friday afternoon. Over there. You see that huge boulder?”

“ I was doing my mandatory service in the air force,” Itah said. “I worked the wireless communications at Ramat David Air Force Base. All our planes took off that June morning, heading to Egypt. I still can’t believe they managed to reach all those enemy airfields undetected. The base commander told me that Mossad knocked down the only radar capable of early detection-that huge thing the Americans installed at the UN command over there.” She gestured at the south of the city. “At Government House.”

“ It wasn’t Mossad,” Elie said. “My SOD did it. It’s old history, but today’s political situation is very similar. Back then, with the Arabs gearing up to destroy Israel, Prime Minister Levi Eshkol was losing the public’s trust. Now, the Oslo Accords are failing to deliver peace and security, with terror attacks intensifying rather than declining, and Prime Minister Rabin is losing popularity. History repeats itself.”

Suddenly everything connected in Rabbi Gerster’s mind: Elie’s financial support of the right-wing fringe ILOT as the opposition’s firebrand, the insidious mingling of the extremists’ virulent rhetoric into Likud rallies to paint the whole right as violent and lawless, the recruiting of former members of Shin Bet’s VIP Protection Unit, and the grafting of Nazi and PLO garb onto Rabin’s image to imply that he deserved to die. “Are you going to try it again? Are you?”

Itah looked from one to the other. “Try what?”

Elie lit a cigarette. “What is real wisdom but to succeed where one failed before?”

“ Wisdom is to avoid repeating mistakes!” Rabbi Gerster sat back, shocked. “You’re insane!”

“ What’s going on?” Itah asked.

“Back in sixty-seven, he tried to prop up Levi Eshkol with a fake assassination attempt.”

“ Not fake,” Elie said. “A failed assassination attempt. Intentionally staged to fail.”

“ Now I’m confused,” she said.