Another shout, this one closer.
He turned.
The biker held forth a helmet. “Don’t leave the bike idling too long-it’ll overheat.”
Slipping on the helmet, Lemmy rode off, surprised by the engine’s smooth response. A moment later he was speeding down the hill, his eyes squinting against the sun, which was descending toward the Mediterranean. As he breathed deeply, the adrenaline rush subsided, and anger flooded him. Itah was dead, and with her died the feelings she had developed for his father and the knowledge she had accumulated to help him in his quest to uncover the truth and secure his family’s safety. Again he was alone.
*
Part Seven
The Redundancy
Saturday, November 4, 1995, Sunset
Gideon found himself in a daze, engulfed by smoke and groans of pain. He was upside down, the safety harness cutting into his shoulders. It was hot, and he thought, I don’t want to burn! Bracing his head with one arm, he unbuckled and dropped to what was left of the ceiling. He helped the other agents get free and edge out of the wreckage. The nurse was gone.
They cleared off the shards from the front windshield and helped Agent Cohen and the pilot get out. The nurse’s body was sprawled on a boulder a good distance up the hill, having flown out during the crash landing.
A few minutes later, an IDF jet flew low overhead. Two military helicopters followed, landing in a swirl of dust and tumbleweed. Army medics ran over.
Agent Cohen had lost his eye patch, exposing a black eye. His broken finger was off its stick, and he cursed as one of the medics fixed it.
Touched by the last rays of the sun, the first helicopter took off with the wounded agents and the dead nurse, heading to Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem. Gideon and Agent Cohen boarded the second one. As they ascended into the air, the rolling lights of ambulances could be seen on the road nearby. A report came through the wireless. The wrecked Subaru contained one dead woman, who fit Itah Orr’s description. Her notebook was on its way to headquarters. Spinoza, however, had apparently stolen a motorcycle and disappeared down the road. By now he was already in a dense, urban area, impossible to detect until he reached the center of Tel Aviv.
“Put out an alert,” Gideon said. “Every police officer, every sharpshooter on the roofs, every soldier manning a checkpoint. We have less than one hour until the rally begins, and Spinoza is halfway there already. We have to catch him!”
Agent Cohen radioed in the description of the Triumph Bonneville and its rider to the chief of the Tel Aviv police, who commanded all the perimeter checkpoints and roadblocks around the peace rally. A flyer with Spinoza’s photo had been distributed already, with a warning that he might be disguised as a black hat. Anyone fitting his description was to be stopped, searched thoroughly for weapons, and released only if his Israeli identity was established without doubt.
As they flew over Tel Aviv, the giant square appeared below in glorious lights, already filled with people. The helicopter circled above, and they could see the IDF sharpshooters on the roofs, the gathering spectators on balconies around the plaza, and the traffic barriers on every incoming street and avenue.
The pilot put down on the helipad at Ichilov Hospital, a short distance from the Kings of Israel Plaza. They ran to a waiting car.
*
Tanya opened her eyes to see Bira in the arms of a tall, gray-haired man in an elegant jacket and a gentle manner. He looked at her and smiled- Lemmy’s smile! -and she recognized him. She tried to speak, but her throat was dry. She swallowed, and said, “You’re free.”
Abraham Gerster rubbed his clean-shaven cheek. “Yes, at last, I am free.”
She looked at the two of them, her daughter and the man she loved, standing by her bed, holding each other. “If I knew…it would take this.” Tanya moved her broken leg, shaking the wires. “I’d have done it…sooner.”
They laughed.
“What about…Lemmy?”
Abraham hesitated. “I think he’s in Meah Shearim with Benjamin, hiding from the Shin Bet.”
Tanya sighed. “Your son isn’t…the hiding type.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
She watched Abraham’s face, as handsome as the first time she had seen him, kneeling beside her in the snow, wiping the blood from her forehead. “Elie trained him,” she said. “Lemmy will prevail.”
“ We can’t lose him again.”
“ No! ” Speaking so sharply hurt her chest, where three of her ribs were fractured. Tanya shut her eyes. She felt Abraham’s warm lips on her forehead. For a moment, it took away the pain.
*
The address Lemmy remembered from Yoni Adiel’s bank statements took him to a two-story house on a busy street in Herzlia. The first floor was all windows under an unlit sign: Adiel amp; Sons – Kosher Meat and Fish
Lemmy pushed the Triumph behind the corner of the house and took the stairs up. He smoothed his hair and tried to brush off the dirt from his white shirt and black pants. There was nothing he could do about the scratches and bruises from the rollover.
The woman who opened the door was heavy, with dark skin and a wide smile. “Shalom! How can I help you?”
“I am Professor Baruch.” Lemmy smiled. “From Bar Ilan University.”
“Oh!” She opened the door wide and beckoned him. “Please, come in. It’s an honor!”
An older man with a black skullcap and a gray beard was sitting in the living room, swaying over a book.
“ This is Professor Baruch,” she explained, “from Yoni’s law school.”
The man extended his hand. “I am Yaakov Adiel, Yoni’s father.”
They looked at Lemmy’s soiled clothes.
“ I ride a motorcycle,” he explained with an apologetic smile. “Today, gravity reminded me what a foolish hobby it is.”
“ Oy vey! ” Mrs. Adiel cradled her cheek in her hand. “Did you get hurt?”
“Only my pride.” He turned as a young man entered the room-dark, skinny, frizzy black hair, and intense, dark eyes under a colorful knitted skullcap.
“That’s Yoni’s older brother,” the mother said. “Haim, please say hello to Professor Baruch from Bar Ilan Law School.”
The brother didn’t smile. “Yoni never mentioned you.”
“Is he home?”
“He just left,” she said. “As soon as Sabbath was over. He’s going to visit friends at a settlement-four different buses, a long trip.”
“No taxis?”
The parents laughed, and Mr. Adiel said, “We’re raising seven children, Professor. They use public transportation.”
“ Which settlement?”
The brother said, “Why do you want to know?”
“ Haim!” She smiled apologetically. “Yoni went to Tapuach. He will be so disappointed to have missed you.”
But Lemmy wasn’t listening to her any longer. He returned the brother’s hostile glare without blinking. Did Haim know Yoni’s real agenda?
She said, “Would you like a cup of tea?”
Haim turned and walked out of the room. Lemmy followed him down a hallway, past a kitchen, which seemed to be in the midst of a major cleanup after the Sabbath, and into a bedroom with two sets of bunk beds against opposite walls.
Haim kicked the door shut. “What do you want?”
On the desk Lemmy noticed a clean ashtray that held several bullets. He picked one. Twenty-two caliber. A blank. “He switched the bullets?”
“ The Arabs ambush our people in the West Bank. Blanks won’t help him.”
“ Help him with Arabs or with something else?”
Haim came closer, his fists clenched. “Stay out of my brother’s business-”
Lemmy grabbed him by the neck, hooked a leg behind his knees, and slapped him down on the floor, knocking the air out of him. “Where is Yoni?”
The young man tried to push away the hand from his throat, but Lemmy landed a knee on his sternum and pressed a thumb onto his Adam’s apple.
The bravado was gone, the eyes wide with fear.
Lemmy lifted his thumb. “Answer!”
“ He took the bus.”
“ Which one?”
“ Number 247. To Tel Aviv.”
“ The bus route?”
“ Ayalon Avenue. All the way.”