Avraham Azrieli - The Jerusalem Assassin

“Exactly.” Gideon pulled a copy of the flyer. “We are searching for this man, who uses the name Baruch Spinoza.”

The name provoked angry muttering. The excommunicated philosopher, though long dead, was not a popular figure among ultra-Orthodox Jews.

The elderly cantor started saying something, but the rabbi interrupted him. “If we had such a troublesome Jew among us, we would have excommunicated him right away.”

The congregation exploded in laughter.

Gideon put his lips to the rabbi’s ear. “Your actions yesterday at Hadassah suffice to justify your arrest as well. Cooperate, or else!”

Rabbi Benjamin Mashash turned to his men and spoke in a sonorous voice that reached every corner of the large hall. “Our sages said that the laws of the land should be respected, even when they contradict the laws of Talmud.”

Gideon breathed in relief.

“It follows, therefore, that the lawmen of the Zionist government, who have just interrupted our Torah reading, should be respected.” The rabbi pulled off his prayer shawl. “Respect means forgiveness, which we will express by including them in our prayers.”

“Thank you.” Gideon turned to glance at the front section of the synagogue, making sure the officers guarded the front rows.

“To be thus included,” the rabbi said, “a Jew must drape himself in holiness, like this.” He tossed his prayer shawl in the air, holding on to one end, and shook it as a maid would shake linen over a bed in order to expand it to its full size. He swiveled sideways, forming an overhead canopy, which softly descended onto Gideon, engulfing him completely.

*

When Benjamin covered him with the prayer shawl, the young agent uttered a muffled shout and tried to free himself. Lemmy pulled off his own prayer shawl and wrapped it over him as well. Cantor Toiterlich, with impressive swiftness for his age, did the same, and the agent’s struggle turned helpless. The cantor laughed, but when his eyes landed on Lemmy, he froze, his mouth agape.

“ It’s a long story.” Lemmy gave him a quick hug. “Benjamin will explain later.”

The hall turned into a madhouse. The men followed their rabbi’s example and shrouded each of the policemen in prayer shawls. Soon Neturay Karta’s frail scholars were doubled over in laughter while all the policemen were struggling to find their way out of multiple layers of striped cloth.

“Thank you,” Lemmy kissed Benjamin’s cheek and ran off. “I’ll be back one day!”

“God bless,” Benjamin yelled after him.

Itah was already in the foyer, her headdress loose, her sleeve torn from the wrist up to the armpit. “Don’t ask,” she said as they ran out. “We didn’t have prayer shawls upstairs, but there were only two of them.”

They reached the gate, which was blocked by several police vans and a few white Subaru sedans, one with a half-open window. Lemmy reached inside and opened the door. It took him thirty seconds to rip off several plastic pieces from under the steering column, strip a few wires, and start the car.

“ I’m impressed.” Itah held on as he made a sharp turn. “They teach hotwiring in Swiss banking school?”

“ I just finished re-wiring an old Citroen. They’re all the same, basically.”

“ And your buddy Benjamin-he’s something else! That agent didn’t know what hit him!”

“My clever, wonderful Benjamin.” Lemmy changed gears. “It’s like we’re teenagers again.”

*

What struck Gideon more than anything else during the few minutes of his confinement was that no one tried to hit him or push him off the dais or hurt him in any way. On the contrary, when he stumbled after failing to free himself, the ultra-Orthodox men pulled off the prayer shawls, helped him sit on a bench, and served him with sweet wine in a plastic cup. Similar scenes took place around the synagogue, where the frazzled police officers, their hair messed up, their faces red, were nevertheless smiling as the men catered to them with wine and good cheer.

Rabbi Benjamin Mashash was gone, and suddenly Gideon remembered that Agent Cohen was about to raid the rabbi’s apartment. Was Spinoza hiding there? Gideon ran out and headed down one of the alleys, trying to recall the map he had pinned to the briefing room wall. He took the turns from memory, catching up with the rabbi, who was older and in the physical shape of one who spends his days studying.

“He’s not there.” The rabbi panted badly. “Only my son…ill…stayed home.”

Gideon sped up. “I’ll stop them,” he yelled over his shoulder. But he knew he was too late.

*

“ Slow down,” Itah said. “Nobody is chasing us.”

“Are you sure?” Lemmy opened the storage bin between the seats, finding a bottle of water and loose change. There were two sets of communication devices-a CB radio and another unit he wasn’t familiar with. He made sure both were turned off. “Search the glove compartment.”

She did. “Registration papers and manuals. A pen.”

“What kind?”

“The pen? Ballpoint.”

“Good.” He took it and stuck in his shirt pocket. “Where are we?”

“The French Hill neighborhood. It was built after the Six Day War.”

“That’s why I don’t recognize it.” Lemmy stopped on the side of the road. “We need to figure out what’s going on.”

“The raid?” Itah unscrewed the cap from the water bottle. “I thought they’d wait for you outside the neighborhood, but obviously they’re impatient.”

“ Why? How can I hurt Rabin if I’m holed up in Meah Shearim?” Lemmy took the bottle from her and took a sip. “Maybe they’re worried about something else.”

“ Other than Rabin’s safety?”

“ Elie would know. I should have squeezed him harder.”

“ There’s someone else you could squeeze.” Itah found a roadmap folded between the seats and spread it open.

“Who?”

“Freckles.” Her finger traced a road on the map. “He’s the only agent serving both SOD and Shin Bet.”

“ He’s a low-level provocateur. Why would they tell him?”

“ Freckles doesn’t need to be told. He’s a born sniffer. He would know.” She tapped the map. “The settlement of Tapuach. That’s where he lives.”

“ In the West Bank?”

“ No. In Switzerland.” Itah laughed. “You’ve never been to a settlement, have you?”

“ I left Israel one day before the IDF captured the West Bank. Other than my radar sabotage foray into East Jerusalem and a recent visit to the Wailing Wall, I’ve never been across the sixty-seven border.”

“ How bizarre. Our worst political problems in the past decades-the vicious rift between left and right, the loss of international support, and the Intifada-all came after the Six Day War.” Itah punched his arm. “If not for your pyrotechnics at Government House, Israel’s first strike would have failed. Even if we had somehow survived the Arabs’ overwhelming forces, we would have never captured the West Bank. If not for you, the Middle East would have gone in a different direction.”

“ You blame me?” Lemmy merged back into traffic, speeding up. “Don’t you believe in God?”

*

Smoke petered out of the windows on the second floor of the apartment building. Gideon ran up the stairs. The door was broken, hanging from a single remaining brass hinge. He yelled, “Abort! Abort!”

“ Stay back!” Agent Cohen’s voice was muted by the gas mask. “We got Spinoza!”

The teargas had immediate effect on Gideon. His eyes watered and his nose began to burn. The apartment was wrecked, with bullet holes and broken furniture. “Abort, I said!”

Agent Cohen was crouching in the hallway. “He’s cornered!”

“ It’s not him!”