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"That's serious, Mahmoud. You think she will talk?"

Mahmoud shrugged. "If it were the other way and we got a girl of theirs who knew something, I'd make her talk."

"I suppose you're right. What are you going to do?"

"I have a place in the Old City. I suggest you go north."

"Yes, it would probably be advisable. I'll need the car."

"I can have it here in half an hour."

"Good. We'll leave then."

"We? You mean the American?"

"That's right. I'll try to take him with me. It could be insurance."

As they mounted the stairs. Roy asked. "What was that all about?"

Abdul waited for Roy to open the door and snap on the light. Then he said. "My uncle is marrying off a daughter. There is a big feast lasting several days to which we are invited. Mahmoud and I."

"Are you going?"

"Mahmoud cannot get away from his job. He will let me have his car. though, but it is a long drive. My uncle's place is in the Galilee. I am not anxious to drive two or three hours at night alone."

"Well, you could leave tomorrow morning—"

Abdul shook his head. "You don't understand. The family will be gathering, and unless I get there tonight, the most desirable rooms and beds will be all gone. No. if I am to go at all. it must be tonight."

"Gee. that's— look, did Mahmoud say anything about me? Seems to me I caught the word 'American.'"

"Oh, that was something else. Yes, he mentioned you." He sobered. "While he was waiting here, the police came and rang your bell."

"They did? Gosh, maybe it was to return my passport."

Abdul shook his head. "There were two of them. They don't need two to deliver your passport. He heard one say they could come back in the morning."

"Well, what do you think I ought to do?"

Abdul considered. "I think if you were out of the way for a few days while your father is working out things in Tel Aviv, it would—" He slapped his hand against his side. "I have an idea, come with me."

"You mean to the wedding?" Roy asked.

"Why not? There will be feasting and dancing, and there'll be girls," he said with a broad smile, "lots of girls."

"But I haven't been invited."

Abdul laughed. "But I am inviting you. I will present you to my uncle as my friend, and you will be his most honored guest. You'll have a chance to see Arab hospitality."

"You mean it? You'll take me with you?"

"Of course. You are my friend." He was struck by a thought. "Your father he is in Tel Aviv, you say. Why don't you call the King David and leave a message for him that you are going to visit friends for a few days, so he won't worry if he doesn't find you when he gets back?"

Chapter Forty-One

Monday. Gittel came up to Jerusalem. "There is a conference." she explained. "Normally, I do not go to these conferences, you understand. A waste of time. It just provides audiences for people who have nothing better to do than write papers. But this time I came because it gives me a chance to visit with you and also to see my friend Sarah, who goes into Hadassah tomorrow for observation and tests."

"What's the matter with her, Gittel?" asked Miriam.

"If they knew, would Dr. Ben Ami send her in for tests? Of course, I know what's wrong with her—"

"You do?" the rabbi asked. Normally, he and Gittel had little to say to each other. She usually talked woman's talk with Miriam, and he remained silent or even wandered off to another room. But he was startled by the seeming contradiction in her remark.

"Of course," she sniffed, contemptuous at his male, not to say, his rabbinic, lack of understanding. "She's nervous, poor girl. She's all tensed up all the time."

"What's she nervous about?" asked Miriam.

"If you were married to a man holding her husband's position, you'd be nervous, too."

"Why, what's he do?"

"He's an important official with the government," she said primly.

"Everybody in the government here seems to be an important official," the rabbi teased.

"You mean she's afraid he'll make some mistake on an important matter?" asked Miriam.

"I mean when he leaves the house in the morning, she doesn't know when he'll come back or even z/he'll come back."

"His work is dangerous?" asked the rabbi.

She detected incredulity in his voice. "You think not. Rabbi?" The title was pure irony; normally, she called him David. "No doubt you heard about the bombing that took place a little while ago where an old man, an automobile dealer, was killed. Well, that happened practically next door to her."

The rabbi smiled. "The night we came there was a bombing in the next street and someone was killed then, too. Are you suggesting—"

"But he was an important person, a professor at the university.''

"So?"

"So he was a natural target for the terrorists." said Gittel. "But this automobile dealer, he was a nobody. I am sure it was Avner they were really after. Him they would want to kill. It's just that they made a mistake."

"That's a little far-fetched Gittel," said the rabbi. "I can see where they might want to blow up a new apartment building and kill a harmless old man in the process. But I find it hard to believe that they would plant a bomb to kill a specific person and then make a mistake and leave it at the wrong address."

"That's how much you know about Arabs, especially the terrorists." sniffed Gittel. "Don't tell me they were after this automobile dealer."

"All right. I won't." said the rabbi good-naturedly. She looked at him suspiciously and turned to Miriam.

"Sarah was lying there in bed. in a deep sleep, mind you, when the bomb went off. Do you mean to tell me that wouldn't affect a woman who hasn't been in good health for the last ten veers at least?"

"You mean that's why she's going to the hospital?" asked Miriam. "That's what the doctor said?"

"The doctor! Not that I have anything against Dr. Ben Ami. But he is only a man. He is a man of sympathy and understanding. You know that. Miriam. But he can know only what a man can know. The mind of a woman, it takes a woman to know. I told Avner to his face, 'If you want your wife to get well.' I told him. 'you'll get another job.' And he couldn't think of anything to answer."

The phone rang, and Miriam went to it. It was Dan Stedman calling to invite them to have dinner with him at the King David that evening.

"Oh, we'd like to, but my Aunt Gittel is up from Tel Aviv and—"

"Bring her along."

"Just a minute." She cupped the receiver. "It's Dan Stedman. a friend of ours. He wants us to come to the King David for dinner tonight."

"So go. I can stay home and take care of Jonathan."

"No. he asked me to bring you along."

"Well I don't know. I—"

"He's a nice fellow— and unmarried." said the rabbi.

Gittel gave him a look of annoyance and indignation.

"What do you say. Gittel? Please come."

"All right, what can I lose?"

Miriam spoke into the instrument. "It's all right. We can all make it. Is it some special occasion?"

"Not really, but I'll be returning to the States soon and—"

"Oh, really? Something unexpected came up?"

"I'll tell you all about it when I see you."

Chapter Forty-Two

The assistant dean of foreign students placed the fingertips of one hand very carefully against the fingertips of the other and nodded slowly as Stedman talked. Not for one minute did he believe what the other was saying, that his son was homesick and wanted to return to America. He had had experience with the parents of American students who came to see him because they were withdrawing their sons or daughters from the university. Usually, it was because the youngster had got involved and wanted to marry someone whom they considered completely unsuitable. The last time, it had been an ardent lifelong Zionist, indignant because his daughter had decided to remain in the country and join a kibbutz.