Avraham Azrieli - The Jerusalem Assassin

He laughed.

Bira glared at him. “What the hell is going on?”

“ I’m also wondering.” Lemmy removed the hat with the attached beard and payos.

Bira wasn’t amused. “What’s this? Dressing up for Purim already?”

“We met once.”

“ I don’t think so.”

“ It was way back, when your mother lived near the border and you were in the army.”

She shook her head.

“ I carried your duffle bag. It was bloody heavy.”

“That boy died in the Six Day War.”

“ We argued. You dismissed faith, saying that Zionism is all about history, about proving who was here first, like establishing a legal ownership record. I countered that belief in the historical truth of biblical stories was a form of faith, which meant you were religious too.”

She leaned closer to look at him. “That’s impossible!”

“ We said good-bye at the gate to Meah Shearim. I watched you go, and you waved at me from the corner.”

She turned to Benjamin. “Is this some kind of a sick joke? My mother has grieved for Jerusalem Gerster for twenty-eight years, poured enough tears to refill the Dead Sea. I’m not going to accept this man-”

“ It’s me,” Lemmy said. “It’s really me.”

Bira looked at him at length in the manner of a scientist examining a specimen that couldn’t possibly exist. Then, without any warning, she leaned forward and slapped Lemmy across the face with such force that he fell off the chair and onto the floor.

*

Rabbi Gerster pocketed Agent Cohen’s gun and pushed over the table, creating a barrier between them and the door. He crouched with Itah behind the tabletop and whispered. “Get away when nobody’s watching. Find my son. Warn him!”

She nodded and pecked him on the cheek.

Gideon stepped over to the kitchen and stood with the housekeeper, who watched the whole thing with an open mouth. Elie positioned himself behind Agent Cohen, his pinky hooked inside the eye socket, his blade drawn, the sharpened edge resting nonchalantly on the trembling man’s shoulder.

The door flew open and the two Shin Bet agents rushed in, guns ready.

“ This feels like a deja vu,” Elie said. He was panting from the exertion, but no one mistook his thin voice for weakness. “Put down your weapons and slide them over, or Agent Cohen here will be shopping for an eye patch or a prosthetic arm. Or both.”

The nurse hesitated while the other agent glanced at her. She aimed at Elie. “You know the drill-we’re trained to kill hostage takers, not negotiate.”

“ You’re trained to kill Arab hostage takers,” Elie corrected her. “Not a Jew who’s old enough to be your grandpa, who’s been abused physically and mentally by this bully.” He pressed a bit on the blade, which broke though the shirt and penetrated the shoulder slightly.

Agent Cohen groaned.

“ Don’t shoot,” Rabbi Gerster said from behind the upturned tabletop. “We’re all Jews here!”

*

Benjamin jumped up and stood between them. “No violence! Please!”

“ Get out of my house!” Bira stood with her fists clenched, ready to hit Lemmy again. “ Out! ”

The boy who had opened the door for them came running, followed by a younger girl, who rushed to her mother’s side. Their presence instantly soothed Bira’s anger. Her hands fell by her side. “Everything is fine,” she said. “Go back to your room.”

The two kids looked at her and at the two men, unsure what to do. The boy pointed at Lemmy. “Where’s your beard?”

Lemmy got up from the floor and showed him the hat and attached facial hair. “You want to try it?”

The boy put it on. His sister laughed, and they ran off.

“ Just like my son,” Lemmy said. “Klaus is ten, almost eleven. We’re trying for a girl-”

“ I don’t want to know.” Bira’s anger flared again. “Son of a bitch! I could kill you for what you did to her-”

“ Please,” Benjamin said, “calm down.”

“ She’s right,” Lemmy said. “I deserve it.”

“ You deserve worse,” Bira said. “Broke her heart, that’s what you did. She blamed herself for your death-can you imagine living with this kind of guilt?”

“ I never imagined how much pain my faked death would cause Tanya. She was my first love. Her rejection seemed like the end of the world to me. I was too resentful and too young. The last thing I considered was that she would grieve or feel guilty.”

Bira sat down, still sulking. “All the grave-grooming and tears and self-deprivation. I can go on and on about the price my mother has continuously extracted from herself over that boy’s death.”

“I know. She told me.”

“ What? She knows you’re alive?”

“ Fate brought us together. We met, but she was being followed. She was hurt badly.”

“Oh, no!” Bira sucked air, covering her mouth.

“Here.” He handed her a note. “Call this number in Amsterdam. Ask for Carl. He knows me as a Swiss banker named Wilhelm Horch-Lemmy for short. Meet him there, and he’ll take you to Tanya. But trust no one else. Your mother’s life depends on it.”

“What about your father?” Bira’s eyes were no longer hostile. “The news reports are shocking.”

Lemmy took out his father’s notes, the bank statements and the ILOT Member Manual.

Bira read through everything while they watched her in silence.

“ The strategy is working,” she said. “There are a few of these fanatical groups. The fringe right is now setting the tone for the whole right wing, including Likud. But if the public learns that Shin Bet pays for these incitements, there’s going to be a huge backlash. It will destroy Rabin politically, because no one will believe it was done without his knowledge.”

“It appears that Shin Bet has let Elie plot the whole thing, pay for it from SOD budget, and then they shut him down at the last moment. They probably think that your mom was working with Elie Weiss.”

Bira stood. “I can’t worry about Israel now. I must take care of my mother.” She left to prepare for her trip to Amsterdam. Lemmy picked a red grape and popped it into his mouth. He offered one to Benjamin, who recited a blessing and ate it.

“Amen,” Lemmy said.

“I’m concerned.” Benjamin pulled another grape off the vines. “What if those Shin Bet characters try to silence you?”

“I’m sure they’re already trying.”

*

“ Okay.” The nurse raised her gun, aiming at the ceiling. “But I won’t surrender my weapon to you.”

“ Then give it to me,” Gideon said. “I’m neutral.”

Elie gave him a cold glance, but Gideon’s offer was a clever face-saving way out. They put their guns on the counter, and Gideon collected them.

“ Go over there,” Elie said, pointing at the sofa against the opposite wall.

They obeyed.

He beckoned the housekeeper. “Bring the phone to the good nurse.”

“ Who do you want me to call?” The nurse’s face was crimson, either from anger or shame. “The Red Cross?”

Rabbi Gerster stood up and pulled over a chair. He helped Elie sit down slowly, but the change of angle caused his pinky to shift, and Agent Cohen cried in pain.

“ Call your Number One,” Elie said.

The nurse opened her mouth to argue, but Agent Cohen yelled, “Do it!”

The call went though several secured connections before a man’s voice sounded on the speakerphone. “Yes?”

“ We have a problem,” the nurse said.

“ We have an opportunity,” Elie said.

“ Weiss? Is that you?”

“ How’s Paris treating you?”

“ What’s going on there?”

“ Let’s just say that…the tables have turned. Literally.”

“ Explain!”