Avraham Azrieli - The Jerusalem Assassin

“What about you?”

“They’re confident that my credibility is ruined and my nerves are shot by the criminal accusations. They’re wrong. None of it will stop me from going public with everything I know, except that I’ll have to find a way around exposing your father.”

“Where does it leave me? Should I let Shin Bet shoot me in the leg to get even?”

“ Don’t be ridiculous.”

Lemmy pulled the gun from his coat pocket and dropped it on the table. “I’m good at what I do, but I can’t fight the whole Israeli secret service.”

“You won’t need to,” Itah said. “I have an idea. There’s a crucial debate in the Knesset today. We’ll approach Rabin and ask him to order Shin Bet to leave you alone.”

“That’s bold. Can you get us in?”

“It’s open to the public. But we’ll need to find a way to meet him.”

“I can do that,” Lemmy said. “He owes me one.”

“The prime minister?” She laughed. “What does he owe you?”

“Oh, just his victory in the Six day War.”

*

Agent Cohen lined up a series of photos on the table, showing the Swiss banker at passport control at Ben Gurion Airport, at an Avis counter, and at Hadassah Hospital.

“ The plot thickens,” Gideon said. “What reason did he give at the airport for his visit?”

“ Car restorer shopping for parts. Original, isn’t it?” Agent Cohen sneered. “We found his rented Fiat at the YMCA. No fingerprints. He’s a professional.”

“ Are you watching departures at the airport?”

“Yes, but only as a precaution.”

“ Why? He saw Elie being arrested at King David. Without access to Elie, he won’t stick around to get caught.”

The agent collected the photos, slipping them into the envelope. “He has a job to do.”

“ What job? To kill Elie Weiss?”

“ That too, as a defensive move, to get rid of someone who can identify him. But his primary target is not Elie Weiss.”

“ Then who?”

“ Our Shin Bet analysts believe the Saudis are paying this assassin a fortune, enough for him to disappear afterwards, retire to some island for the rest of his life. They want him to do something that will destroy the Oslo Accords once and for all, a decisive hit that will end this whole effort to reach a permanent co-existence with the Palestinians in the foreseeable future.”

Gideon waited for him to continue, but he remained mum, as if the answer was too shocking to be pronounced out loud.

“ Kill Arafat?”

“ Worse,” Agent Cohen said.

“ Who could be worse?”

“ We believe this Horch-Spinoza guy has come here to kill Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin.”

*

Lemmy left the gun in Benjamin’s apartment, and Itah did the same with her pepper spray. Equipped with borrowed Israeli identification cards from a lookalike Neturay Karta couple, they received visitor tags at the entrance to the Knesset building, passed by the giant menorah, and crossed the vast forecourt. Inside, the three giant Chagall tapestries reminded Lemmy of the stained-glass windows at the Fraumunster church in Zurich, though here Chagall had brought to life biblical Jewish figures other than Jesus Christ. But the colors and flair touched Lemmy with warm familiarity.

The legislature was in session. The public gallery was filled with school children and tourists. Itah and Lemmy found room in the last row. A thick Plexiglas partition offered open views of the assembly hall below, filled with Knesset members of all parties. The government ministers, including Yitzhak Rabin, sat up front near the podium.

A Knesset member from the government coalition was arguing for censure of the Likud Party over the events at the right-wing rally last Saturday night in Jerusalem. “Is there no shame? Are there no limits to verbal violence? When is it too much? Tell me!”

Someone from the opposition benches yelled, “Rabin broke his promises!”

“ He’s a liar,” another member shouted.

The speaker hit the podium. “Is name calling acceptable? Cursing the prime minister? Slandering him? Chanting sexual innuendo? Urging his early death?”

No one responded to that.

“ Democracy and free speech don’t make it kosher to call for the prime minister’s murder!”

The speech was interrupted by the grave voice of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, emerging with an odd echo from the rear benches: “I will never, never give up land that provides Israel with a security buffer against Arab attacks!”

Knesset attendants in uniform ran down the aisles, looking for the source of the recorded speech.

“ I will never,” Rabin’s voice roared, “never give back the Golan Heights-”

Among widespread laughter, the attendants grabbed a young Knesset member who had smuggled in a cassette player and portable loudspeakers to play Rabin’s old speech-an embarrassing reminder that the prime minister’s current policy contradicted his past promises.

Surrounded by his ministers, Yitzhak Rabin appeared amused by the prank, glancing back at the struggling attendants.

“ Our Labor leaders changed their minds,” the speaker continued, “because our enemies changed their hearts and agreed to peace. But Likud leaders are sticking to unrealistic policies. At Zion Square on Saturday night, they acquiesced to their supporters’ chants, adopted their murderous demagoguery, and poured oil on the fire of violence that’s consuming our democracy. The Likud Party is trying to topple the government by inciting a mob! I therefore move for a censure of the Likud Party!”

Benjamin Netanyahu, twenty years younger than the prime minister and an eloquent speechmaker, climbed the steps to give his party’s response. “It’s unfair,” he said, “to indict a large portion of the population because of the unsavory acts of a handful of hoodlums.”

Prime Minister Rabin stood and walked away from his front-bench seat, up the aisle, to the exit doors.

Netanyahu paused and turned to the Knesset chairman, who pounded his gavel and said into his microphone, “I ask the prime minister to return to his seat. Please!”

Rabin lit a cigarette, his back to the Knesset plenum. An elderly secretary in a beige pantsuit brought him a file with documents, and he browsed through, ignoring the noise.

The chairman pounded his gavel again. “Please! I ask the prime minister to return and hear the opposition’s reply! Please!”

Several Knesset members went to the door and spoke with Rabin. Netanyahu waited at the podium.

Itah leaned over and said, “They’re like children!”

“ Worse,” Lemmy said.

Down below, Prime Minister Rabin stubbed his cigarette and returned to his seat. The Knesset chairman pounded his gavel.

“ As we can see,” Netanyahu said, “extreme behavior happens on both sides of the aisle-even on the government side.”

“ Let’s go,” Lemmy said.

The Labor Party had offices on the second floor, reached via a wide set of stairs. The elderly secretary took one step at a time, holding the thick file to her chest. They caught up with her.

“ Excuse me,” Lemmy said, “would you kindly ask Mr. Rabin to spare a moment for a quick hello?”

“ You’ll have to send a letter requesting an appointment-”

“ Please tell him that I was the soldier who blew up the UN radar at Government House in sixty-seven. My name is Baruch.”

The secretary scribbled in her notepad and pointed to a decorative, wooden bench under a bronze sculpture representing the killing fields at Babi Yar. “Wait here. I’ll ask him after the vote.”

*

Agent Cohen returned to the apartment an hour later. He handed Gideon a wallet. “Here’s money, credit cards, and identification as special agent assigned to the prime minister’s office, with top security clearance. It will allow you access to every government agency, full cooperation from officials, and total immunity in the line of duty.”