Asylum City (30 page)

“Just like that?”

“He even spread out his fingers to make it easier for the lab techs,” she said laughing, demonstrating how Ninio had slammed his hands on her desk.

Her performance elicited a guffaw from David.

“I hope you told the migrant to keep his mouth shut and warned Fisher not to call a press conference,” David said, training his eyes on her.

“They don't know anything about Ninio,” she assured him. “You can trust me, David. You only have to tell me once and I get it. For the time being, the information is safe with me. Until we pull Ninio in and he confesses to killing Michal Poleg, Gabriel stays where he is and nobody knows he recanted. Just like you said, I'm leaving the brass with a suspect in custody, so everyone's happy.”

“What about the plea bargain?”

“They'll stall for a few days. Gabriel's lawyer won't have a clue what's causing the holdup.”

David lit another cigarette, took a deep drag, and blew the smoke in her face. “So your theory is that Yariv Ninio killed Michal Poleg because her complaint to the Bar Association revealed that he'd concealed information from the court?”

“That's right,” Anat said, coughing. She'd gotten the lab results on the way to the detention center and had been planning to run straight to David as soon as she got back to the station. But after what happened at the jail, she felt she needed time to pull herself together. Although she'd done her best to remain detached, to focus on the facts and not get caught up in the emotion, the meeting between Gabriel and Liddie had struck a chord deep inside her. She herself was an only child, which explained why her mother was always on her back. And then there was the shiver that ran through her every time Itai leaned over and whispered in her ear, trying his best to translate what was being said. What was that all about?

“You still haven't explained why the African confessed if Ninio's the killer. You said he didn't know Ninio, so what's the connection?” David asked, enveloping her in another cloud of smoke. She knew from experience she'd have to wash her hair when she got home.

“I've got a theory, but I want to hold off until I hear what the counselor has to say after we pull him in. Okay?” This time she managed to get the whole sentence out without coughing. She'd been searching for a connection between Gabriel and Ninio, and she thought she'd finally found it: Arami. They weren't the only ones who used him as an interpreter. He worked in the courthouse, too. He and Ninio could have met there.

“Could you give me a little hint, Nachmias? You do realize we're about to arrest an assistant state attorney? If it turns out to be bullshit, they'll hang us both out to dry.”

“It's so unlikely, it has to be true,” Anat said with a smile.

“I've got a real Sherlock Holmes on my hands, don't I?” David said, crushing out the cigarette.

Anat was about to say that someone had already called her that today, but she decided to keep it to herself.

YARIV
immediately recognized the number that came up on the screen of his cell phone. Before leaving his office, Shuki Borochov had handed him his card and promised to be in touch “very soon.” Since then, Yariv's heart had stopped every time the phone rang. He was hoping to have more time to think before he called, but it had barely been six hours and Borochov was already making contact.

Yariv stared at the phone in terror. It was ten at night. What did they want with him at this hour? Kobi told him not to answer, to wait for the plea bargain to be finalized. But he still wasn't sure he could trust Kobi.

“Riv? Why don't you answer your phone?” he heard Inbar call from the next room. Yariv muted the phone hurriedly. The last thing he needed was for Inbar to start asking questions.

“Who was it?” she asked, coming into the living room.

He didn't reply. He didn't have the patience to deal with her. Especially not now.

“What's the matter, Riv? Why don't you answer me?” She was standing over him.

He got up from the couch, ignoring her.

“What's going on?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Yariv shrugged her off. The phone in his hand vibrated. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that it was the same number and a shudder went through him.

“Talk to me, Yariv,” Inbar persisted. “What's going on with you? Ever since I got back from Eilat you've been acting like I did something wrong. Are you mad at me?”

Infuriated, Yariv turned to face her, about to shout that everything wasn't about her, that she should quit thinking that the whole world revolved around her and leave him alone, that he was sick of her nagging. The ringing of the landline nipped his tirade in the bud. The shrill sound was deafening. It reverberated in his bones.

“Don't answer it,” he yelled as Inbar headed for the phone.

“What?” Puzzled, she turned to look at him.

“Don't answer it and don't ask any questions,” he ordered, his heart pounding.

“Why not? It might be the DJ from Navit's wedding,” Inbar said, turning and continuing in the direction of the phone.

Yariv raced across the room and grabbed her arm.

“I said don't answer it,” he screamed.

“What do you think you're doing? Take your hands off me! Do you know how long I've been waiting for him to call? Do you know how busy he is? How hard it is to get hold of him? Do you even care? You act like the wedding has nothing to do with you.” Undeterred, Inbar went for the phone again.

“He can call back tomorrow. You can call him tomorrow. I don't give a fuck. Inbar, are you listening to me? Don't answer the phone. Just do what I say for a change. I'm sick and tired of arguing all the time,” Yariv shouted, grabbing her arm a second time.

“It's my house, too, mister! You can't tell me what to do,” Inbar retorted, struggling to free herself from his grip.

Her resistance made him even more livid. He shoved her against the wall and stood in front of her.

“You're not going anywhere, get it?” he said, blocking her path.

The telephone stopped ringing.

They stood face-to-face, both breathing heavily.

“What happened to you? I don't understand it,” Inbar moaned. In tears, she went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Yariv knew he should go after her and apologize, but his cell phone started vibrating again. Number withheld, the screen read.

He could hear Inbar crying in the other room. Then her cell phone rang. Yariv ran for the bedroom, hoping to stop her in time, but when he opened the door she was already holding the phone to her ear.

“Who's calling, please?” she said, trying to disguise the fact that she'd been crying.

Yariv gestured wildly with his hands: don't give me the phone, say I'm not here.

“Yariv isn't here,” she said in a trembling voice and disconnected.

The landline began ringing again.

“Riv, what's going on? What's the matter?” Inbar asked through her tears. Her sobbing was more than he could stand.

“Who was it?” he asked, ignoring her question. The sound of the phone in the living room was deafening.

“He didn't say. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on?”

Yariv marched out of the bedroom. He'd had enough. He couldn't take the ringing anymore. It was driving him mad, messing with his head. He pulled the phone out of the wall and the house fell silent. He stood there in the middle of the living room, gasping for air.

“I won't do this anymore, Yariv. I demand an answer. You can't just ignore me!” Inbar pleaded tearfully beside him.

Someone knocked sharply on the door and they both jumped. Yariv held a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. The banging continued. Inbar collapsed onto the couch, covering her face and weeping bitterly.

Now the loud knocking was joined by the sound of the doorbell. They'd come for him.

The phone in his hand was vibrating. Whoever was outside kept pounding on the door and leaning on the bell.

He was a goner. People like that weren't happy if you didn't jump when they called. He should have gone to the cops instead of listening to Kobi. At least he'd still be alive tomorrow.

Yariv wiped the sweat from his brow. What was he supposed to do now? Their apartment was on the third floor. There was no escape. He was trapped.

“Police! Open up!” he heard on the other side of the door.

“Police?” Inbar looked at him in fright.

His cell phone started vibrating again. Yariv dropped it like a hot coal. Inbar's phone also started ringing.

“Stop it!” he shouted, clutching his head in his hands. “I can't take any more!”

“Ninio, open the door. We know you're in there.” He knew that voice. It belonged to the detective, Inspector Nachmias.

ANAT
barely recognized Ninio, and not just because he was dressed in a T-shirt and sweat pants instead of the usual suit. It was the haunted look in his eyes, the mixture of confusion and fear on his face.

“They're trying to kill me,” he said in a shaky voice as he gestured for her to come in.

A warrant for Yariv Ninio's arrest had been issued half an hour ago. David wanted to wait until four in the morning to haul him in. As a rule, you get the best results if you drag someone out of bed and interrogate them when they're exhausted and dazed.

But Anat objected. She didn't want to give Ninio the chance to claim later that he was coerced into confessing. They would conduct the interview by the book. For the same reason, she didn't send Yaron out alone to pick him up. This time they'd do things her way from start to finish.

“They don't stop calling,” Yariv said in a panic.

Behind him she could see a girl, presumably his fiancée, weeping quietly on the couch. Anat noticed her blue nail polish and the all-too-obvious nose job, and wondered why Mrs. Glazer hadn't mentioned them. The distracting thought faded as quickly as it came.

“Who's ‘they'?” she asked calmly. Following normal procedure, they'd called to make sure he was home before making the arrest. When he didn't answer his cell phone, they'd called the landline and then his fiancée's mobile. When they got back to the station, she'd have Yaron get a printout of all the calls to and from Ninio's phone. She wanted to find out who he'd spoken to and who he was so afraid of.

“Borochov, his people. Isn't that why you're here?” Yariv asked, scanning the faces of the cops in the room.

Anat remained silent, waiting for him to keep talking.

Ninio gave her a puzzled look and stepped back. Not a muscle moved in her face. As David always said, the interrogation begins from the moment of the arrest.

“Borochov, Borochov. I know it's him,” Yariv shouted.

Anat kept silent.

“Wait a minute. What are you doing here?” Yariv asked, focusing on Anat.

“Why do you think we're here?” she asked.

“I don't know, Detective. Maybe to apologize?” Ninio had reverted to his habitual tone of voice.

“What's going on, Riv?” the girl cut in.

“It's nothing, Inbar. They're just leaving. Inspector Nachmias came to offer her apologies,” Yariv answered coolly, not turning his head.

Anat debated whether to ask him to tell her more about the calls and who this Borochov was but decided against it. She'd missed her chance. Yariv Ninio was his old self again. She'd have plenty of time to interrogate him later.

“We're bringing you in for questioning,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean? Questioning about what?” The panic had crept back into his voice.

“You'll find out at the station.” Anat had no intention of giving him time to prepare for the interview.

“Tell me right now or I refuse to go with you. I'm an attorney, or did you happen to forget that? The tricks you use with petty criminals won't work on me,” Yariv snapped derisively.

Anat decided not to respond. No reason to get ahead of herself. Two hours from now he'd be no different than any other suspect. When push came to shove, everybody behaved the same way in an interrogation.

“Well, Nachmias, I'm waiting,” Yariv said. Despite his patronizing manner, he couldn't manage to hide the fact that he was clearly feeling the pressure.

“It's up to you, Counselor,” Anat said serenely. “You can come with us of your own free will, or we'll arrest you right here and now. What's it going to be?”

Yariv didn't answer.

“Well, Ninio, I'm waiting,” Anat said, unable to restrain herself.

“I'll come, I'll come,” Yariv said, taking a step toward her in an attempt at intimidation. “But don't think your conduct here isn't going to cost you.”

YARIV
crushed a cup in his fist. They'd already kept him waiting for half an hour. He got up and started pacing the interrogation room, totally bare except for a table, three chairs, and a small stack of plastic cups. He knew he wasn't really alone. Every move he made was being monitored by hidden cameras.

What were they waiting for? Why was he here?

On the way to the station, it occurred to him that Borochov might have been calling to warn him. He'd been wrong to listen to Kobi. He should have answered the phone and heard what Borochov had to say. He'd assumed the fleshy lawyer had put Nachmias on to him, but apparently he'd been wrong about that, too. She had no idea what he was talking about.

That left him with the question of what the cops wanted with him. It couldn't have anything to do with Michal's murder. The case had already been turned over to the prosecution and they were about to reach a plea bargain agreement. He knew how it worked. The minute the cops signed off on an investigation, that was the end of it. There was nothing they liked better than to declare a case closed.