"You didn't, V. S.!"
"Sure. I did. You know my motto: If you don't ask. you don't get to know. Why shouldn't I? Maybe I'm not a board of director, but I'm a member in good standing. My dues are paid up."
"All right, so you asked. What happened?"
"Nothing!" said Markevitch triumphantly. "He wasn't happy, and he wasn't sore. He just wasn't interested one way or the other. Just kind of polite."
"Maybe he was playing it cozy."
Markevitch gave the other a prod with his elbow and winked knowingly. "Maybe he was, and maybe he just wasn't interested one way or the other. To tell the truth, we were kind of a little annoyed with our rabbi. I mean if he's our rabbi, we got a right to expect him to rabbi for us. You go to Washington, and you tell your Congressman you're there, and he'll be interested in your problems.
He'll try to help you. or at least he'll make you think he's going to help you. The least he'll do is have someone from his office show you around. Right? Well, we figured we could count on the rabbi the same way. Take like for instance we went to the Wall. Right? So you expect you're with your rabbi right there, he'll say a prayer for you at the Wall. That's the holiest place we got, and if you got a chance to have a prayer said there, well that's something you wouldn't want to pass up. Right? So when we asked him. he says he'd rather not, and we should do it on our own. Well, of course we did. me and Katz, but you know it isn't the same thing. We had to say it in English for one thing—"
From the head table came the sharp rap of the gavel, and the chairman called out. "Will you take your seats please? Will everybody please be seated?"
There was a scurrying to take places, while those still engaged in conversation automatically lowered their voices.
"That sure is funny. What do you figure it means, V. S.?"
Markevitch dropped his voice to a whisper that could not be heard much beyond the six or eight tables in the immediate vicinity. "Let me put it this way: Markevitch is not one to shoot off his mouth, but Markevitch has a sawbuck which he'll bet against anybody's V-note that our rabbi when he took off for Israel took off for good."
Chapter Thirty-One
While the police, in the person of Chaim Ish-Kosher, and the Shin Bet. as represented by Avner Adoumi, were "cooperating." the fact that they were meeting in Adoumi's small dusty office on the top floor of Police Headquarters that had been temporarily assigned to Intelligence rather than in Ish-Kosher's much more comfortable and spacious office on the first floor at the opposite end of the building suggested that the cooperation might be a little one-sided.
The personal styles of the two men were different. Ish-Kosher, in blue uniform with a white shirt and black tie. his tunic pressed and buttoned, exuded an air of brisk, businesslike efficiency; but he also smiled easily, an executive type of smile, a quick flashing of even white teeth to denote interest and understanding. Avner Adoumi, on the other hand, a big, burly, bullet-headed man with close-cropped hair now gray with few traces of its former blondish red, was tieless and in shirt sleeves. His collar open at the throat, like the yarmulke worn by Ish-Kosher, was something of symbol in the involved politics of Israel. He was brusque, authoritarian, and rarely smiled, and when he did, it was almost against his will.
"And how is Mrs. Adoumi?" asked Ish-Kosher politely. "She's at Hadassah for a couple of days' observation."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's nothing. Just some tests."
"The shock of the explosion?"
"The doctor says not. She'll probably be home tomorrow. And then later she may have to go in again for a few days." His eves flicked at Ish-Kosher's yarmulke. "I understand that you people have arranged things so that I couldn't visit her on the Sabbath if she's still there."
A quick, easy smile. "My people? Oh, you mean the religious. Well, it isn't that you can't visit her. It's that you have to ride to Hadassah, by bus or by car, and that of course would be a desecration of the Sabbath."
Adoumi held up a stuffy forefinger of warning. "One day the rest of us aren't going to stand for it, Chaim."
"Then it won't be a Jewish state anymore."
"Oh, it will be a Jewish state all right, but it will be for all the Jews and not just for your little handful. Now. to business. Did you get anything on Memavet?"
"No, but I'm sure it was him they were after. The kind of business he was in—"
"Shady? Stolen cars? He was dealing with the Arabs?"
"Not as far as we know. But in that business, automobiles, there are always people who are dissatisfied. A customer thinks he's been sold a lemon, or a seller thinks he could have got more on his own. Or he might feel that Memavet was holding something back. He was a broker, after all, and only entitled to a commission, not a profit."
"But everybody you questioned said he had a good reputation, that he was honest."
"Yes, but—"
"All right. I won't argue with you. Follow it up if you like, but I can tell you now. you're wandering down a blind alley. The university professor—"
"We found an Arab connection there." said Ish-Kosher quickly.
"Sure, but it was the wrong kind for our purposes. He was going to help them. He was their friend."
"But that's just it." said Ish-Kosher excitedly. "You see—"
"I know, I know. The terrorists don't want their people helped. All this theory"— a wave of a broad, freckled hand—"it's just theory. The terrorists don't work that way. They don't think that way. Arabs don't think that way. One Arab kills another, so the victim's family will try to get revenge by killing the killer. That's understandable. That's normal. It isn't our way. It isn't the way of civilized people, but it's understandable. But if they can't get the killer, they'll get their revenge by killing some member of his family, a brother or an uncle or his father. That's already different, you see, Ever since the Six-Day War when our army defeated theirs, they want revenge. That's normal. But they can't get it by defeating our army, so killing any of us is for them a reasonable substitute. Which of us? It doesn't make any difference to them. It could be an old man like Memavet, or it could be women or even children."
"But—"
Adoumi stopped him again with a raised hand. "Naturally, the more of us they can kill, the better. And that's why they've bombed places like markets, public places where there are likely to be a lot of people gathered and where a lot can be hurt. But we're on the watch, and the danger of being caught is great. So they play it safe for a while. They pick safe targets. If we don't catch them, they get their courage back and try the public places again. Why did they bomb Memavet? I'll tell you: because he was an easy target. Here's an old man living alone in a new block of flats, the only resident on the street, and it's a dark street. They can go down the street, unseen—"
"But they were seen. The doctor saw—"
"The doctor saw a young man who said he had business with Memavet. And that's quite possible. Now. that young man might have seen something. He might be worth questioning."
"Then why did you cut out that part of the doctor's statement when we released it to the reporters?"
"Because, Chaim. I thought it would be better if he came forward on his own. That would prove he was not connected with this in any way. He didn't come forward. so it suggests that he might not be entirely innocent."
"Or just that he doesn't want to get involved." said Ish-Kosher.
"This was a terrorist bombing. Anyone would want to help." Adoumi shook his head gloomily. "I gambled in withholding that portion of the statement from the press." Then he brightened. "But if he hasn't come forward, the chances are that even if we had mentioned he had been seen, he probably would hold back. It was raining, and he had his coat collar turned up. He'd know that the doctor wouldn't be able to recognize him. I'd sure like to get a line on him. though."