Yakov could not let the pounding continue, nor Holcroft’s shouted demands. The disturbance would draw attention.
The Israeli twisted the latch and pressed himself against the wall. The door crashed open, the figure of the tall American filling the frame. He lunged into the room, his arms in front of him as if prepared to repel an assault.
«Von Tiebolt! Where are you?»
Holcroft was obviously startled by the darkness. Ben-Gadíz stepped silently to the side, the flashlight in his hand. He spoke rapidly, completing two sentences in a single breath.
«Von Tiebolt’s not here and I mean you no harm. We are not on opposite sides.»
Holcroft spun around, his hands extended. «Who are you? What the hell are you doing here? Turn on the light!»
«No lights! Just listen.»
The American stepped forward angrily. Yakov pressed the button on his flashlight; the wash of green spread over Holcroft, causing him to cover his eyes. «Turn that off!»
«No. Listen to me first.»
Holcroft lashed his right foot out, catching Ben-Gadíz in the knee; at contact, Noel sprang forward, his eyes shut, his hands clutching for the Israeli’s body.
Yakov crouched and threw his shoulder up into the American’s chest; Holcroft would not be stopped. He brought his knee into Ben-Gadíz’s temple; his fist smashed into Yakov’s face.
There could be no lacerations! No traces of blood on the floor! Yakov dropped the light and held on to the American’s arms; he was amazed at Holcroft’s strength. He spoke as loudly as he dared to.
«You must listen! I’m not your enemy. I’ve got news of your mother. I have a letter. She’s been with me.»
The American struggled; he was breaking the grip. «Who are you?»
«Nachrichtendienst,» whispered Ben-Gadíz.
At the sound of the name, Holcroft went wild. He roared, his arms and legs battering rams that would not, could not, be repulsed.
«I’ll kill you…»
Yakov had no choice. He surged through the hammering attack, his fingers centering in on the American’s neck, his thumbs grinding into the pronounced veins of the stiffened throat. By touch, he found a nerve and pressed with all his strength. Holcroft collapsed.
Noel opened his eyes in the darkness, but the darkness was not complete. Angled against the wall was a wash of green light—the same green light that had blinded him earlier—and at the sight of it his outrage returned.
He was being pressed against the floor, a knee sunk into his shoulder, the barrel of a gun against his head. His throat was in agony but still he twisted, trying to rise from the carpet, away from the weapon. His neck could not take the strain. He fell back, and heard the intense whisper of the man above him.
«Be very clear in this. If I were your enemy, I would have killed you. Can you understand that?»
«You are my enemy!» answered Noel, barely able to speak through the bruised muscles about his throat. «You said you were Nachrichtendienst. Geneva’s enemy … my enemy!»
«The first, absolutely; but not the second. Not yours.»
«You’re lying!»
«Think! Why haven’t I pulled this trigger? Geneva is stopped; you are stopped; no funds are transferred. If I’m your enemy, what prevents me from blowing your head off? I can’t use you as a hostage; there’s no point. You have to be there. So I gain nothing by letting you live … if I am your enemy.»
Holcroft tried to grasp the words, tried to find the meaning behind them, but he could not. He wanted only to strike out at the man holding him captive. «What do you want? Where have you got my mother? You said you had a letter.»
«We’ll take all things in order. What I want first is to leave here. With you. Together we can do what Wolfsschanze never believed possible.»
«Wolfsschanze?… Do what?»
«Make the laws work for us. Make amends.»
«Make—Whoever you are, you’re out of your mind!»
«It’s the option of Har Sha’alav. Control the millions. Fight them. Everywhere. I’m prepared to offer you the only proof I have.» Yakov Ben-Gadíz took the pistol away from Noel’s head. «Here’s my gun.» He offered it to Holcroft.
Noel studied the stranger’s face in the odd shadows produced by the macabre green light. The eyes above him belonged to a man who was speaking the truth.
«Help me up,» he said. «There’s a back staircase. I know the way.»
«First we have to straighten up anything that’s out of place. Everything must be as it was.»
Nothing is as it was…
«Where are we going?»
«To an apartment in rue de la Paix. The letter’s there. So is the girl.»
«The girl?»
«Von Tiebolt’s sister. He thinks she’s dead. He ordered her killed.»
«Helden?»
«Later.»
45
They raced out of the alley and down the rue des Granges to the Israeli’s car. They climbed in, Ben-Gadíz behind the wheel. Holcroft held his throat; he thought the veins were ruptured, so intense was the pain.
«You left me no choice,» said Yakov, seeing Holcroft’s agony.
«You left me one,» replied Noel. «You gave me the gun. What’s your name?»
«Yakov.»
«What kind of name is that?»
«Hebrew… Jacob, to you. Ben-Gadíz.»
«Ben who?»
«Gadíz.»
«Spanish?»
«Sephardic,» said Yakov, speeding down the street, across the intersection, toward the lake. «My family immigrated to Krakow in the early nineteen hundreds.» Yakov swung the car to the right in a small, unfamiliar square.
«I thought you were Kessler’s brother,» said Holcroft. «The doctor from Munich.»
«I know nothing about a doctor from Munich.»
«He’s here somewhere. When I got to the d’Accord, the front desk gave me Von Tiebolt’s key, then asked if I wanted Hans Kessler.»
«What’s that got to do with me?»
«The clerk knew that the Kesslers and Von Tiebolt had dinner together in Johann’s suite. He thought Kessler’s brother was still there.»
«Wait a minute!» broke in Yakov. «The brother is a stocky man? Short? Strong?»
«I’ve no idea. Could be; Kessler said he was a soccer player.»
«He’s dead. Your mother told us. Von Tiebolt killed him. I think he was injured by your friend Ellis; they couldn’t carry him any longer.»
Noel stared at the Israeli. «Are you saying he was the one who did that to Willie? Killed him and knifed him like that?»
«It’s only a guess.»
«Oh, Christ!… Tell me about my mother. Where is she?»
«Later.»
«Now.»
«There’s a telephone. I have to call the apartment. Helden’s there.» Ben-Gadíz swung the car to the curb.
«I said now!» Holcroft leveled the gun at Yakov.
«If you decide to kill me now,» said Yakov, «I deserve to die, and so do you. I’d ask you to make the call yourself, but we haven’t time for emotion.»
«We’ve all the time we need,» answered Noel. «The bank can be postponed.»
«The bank? La Grande Banque de Genève?»
«Nine o’clock this morning.»
«My God!» Ben-Gadíz gripped Holcroft’s shoulder and lowered his voice; it was the voice of a man pleading for more than his life. «Give the option of Har Sha’alav a chance. It will never come again. Trust me. I’ve killed too many people not to have killed you twenty minutes ago. We must know every moment where we stand. Helden may have learned something.»