Sanctuary (27 page)

Decker felt his face afire. “You followed Milligan into
Hebron
?”

“Yes. And I know it was stupid beyond belief. All I got for my efforts was a shot-out window. But I’m here.
I’m safe. Do you want to hear what I found out?”

Decker slapped his forehead. “I don’t fucking
believe
you. How could you do that?”

“I already said I was stupid.”

“No, Rina.
I
was stupid. You were
insane
.”

“I see it’s going to be one of
those
interchanges.” She picked up the phone and ordered room service. “I can’t fight on an empty stomach.”

Decker stared at her, then stood up. “Pack your bags. You’re going home.”

“Fine. It wasn’t my idea to come out here in the first place.”

Guilt shot through Decker’s veins. He sat back down on the bed. He willed himself rational, then quietly asked, “Who shot at your car? Milligan?”

“I have to think for a moment.” Rita sat next to him. “I don’t
think
it was Milligan. Because at that point, I had already stopped tailing her car. It was probably just a villager consumed with hate.”

She began to recount her ordeal. “In Jerusalem, Milligan met up with two guys in a Fiat near the Israeli museum. The men were Arabs. One of them was named Ibri—short for Ibrahim. The other was named Gamal.”

“How’d you find that out?”

“I overheard them talking.”

Decker paused. “I don’t think I want to know how that came about.”

“Good idea,” Rina said. “Ibri was complaining to Milligan about something. She interrupted him, saying if his idea of heroism was blowing up a school bus, he was working for the wrong person. They mentioned a guy named Donald. No last name. Does he mean anything to you?”

“No.”

“Ibri said they worked for Donald, not Milligan. Milligan said that Donald worked for
her
. Then Ibri offered to take Milligan to see Donald. Gamal took Milligan’s Volvo into the Old City of Jerusalem. Ibri
and Milligan went to Hebron. I stopped following them when the car went up an isolated road. I turned around, planned to go back, then someone shot out the window. Luckily, I caught up with an IDF jeep. I went to the Cave of the Patriarchs—”

“Wasn’t that the place where the massacre took place?”

“Yes. But it’s pretty secure now.”

“Oh, I feel so much better.”

Rina ignored the sarcasm. “I left the city with a caravan of army jeeps.”

She took Peter’s hand. “Milligan had to catch an important meeting at the American Colonial Inn. The hotel is in East Jerusalem. Not for Jews, but the place is popular with non-Jewish tourists and reporters. We should check Milligan out. I got the willies when she talked about blowing up a school bus.”

“
What
? You think that’s actually in the planning?”

“No, but—”

“Oh
shit
!” Decker began to pace. “If so, we should call the police immediately.”

“And tell them what?”

“That you overheard a conversation where Milligan talked about blowing up a school bus.”

“Peter, she might have been using strong words to prove a point. If we report it as fact and nothing comes of it, you’re going to lose credibility with the police. But I realize we just can’t let a comment like that slip away.” She looked at her husband. “First, tell me who Milligan is and why you’re so interested in her.”

Decker started from the beginning, explaining Milligan’s career in VerHauten, segueing into her financial involvement in companies also carried by the late Arik Yalom. He recapped his conversation with Marge: how Milligan could make a fortune if VerHauten ever decided to develop Southwest Mines. But Arik Yalom’s interest in the company seemed to be a sticking point. Then Yalom was murdered, and Gold and the boys disap
peared to Israel. Suddenly Milligan was here, too, asking questions about Shaul Gold.

“Does Gold actually
own
Arik’s portion of Southwest Mine stock?” Rina asked.

“I’m not sure. But that’s my assumption.”

“Him and
not
the boys?”

Decker sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe the boys do own it and that’s why they fled. But if that was the case, why would Milligan be asking about Gold?”

“Well, she couldn’t ask the grandparents about the boys. That would be pretty obvious, right?”

“You’re thinking that Milligan’s trying to get to the boys via Gold.”

“Isn’t it a possibility, especially since Gold is looking for the boys?”

Decker paused. “You’re very bright. So now I don’t know who to be worried for first. The boys or a school bus.” He ran his hand over his face. “What I’d like to know is, who were these men Milligan was talking to?”

“If she’s out to get someone…the boys or Gold…maybe they were hired help, Peter.”

“These men were hit men?”

“Why not?” Rina asked.

“Because why would a woman of Milligan’s smarts and stature travel all the way to Israel—a land I’m sure she doesn’t know much about—to murder Gold or the boys. She’d hire out.”

“Maybe that’s what she was doing. Maybe she came here to hire some locals to kill them.”

“Unless these men were very good friends of hers, I think she’d be taking a very big chance.”

“Maybe they’re not good friends of hers. But maybe Donald is. Donald certainly isn’t an Arab name.”

“You’re right. Who is this
Donald
?”

The room fell quiet.

Rina laughed, “Well, we can go to the American Colonial Inn, pull Milligan out of the meeting, and ask her.”

“A fine idea in theory,” Decker said. “It’s the practical application. So much is going on…I’ve got to sort all this out. I don’t want to act rashly.”

“Peter,
why
are you here?”

A very good question. It put everything into perspective. “To find the Yalom boys before someone else does them harm.”

“I think it’s a very good idea to investigate Milligan. And we probably should call or go to the police and tell them what I overheard. But if you think the boys are in grave danger, they should be our top priority.”

“Right,” Decker said. “You’re right again. We can’t get sidetracked too much. Yes, we’ll report what you heard. But I’ve got to remember why I’m here. Gold is looking for the boys, Milligan’s looking for Gold. If I find the boys, I’m betting I’ll find Milligan and Gold as well.” He turned to Rina. “You know this country. Where do you think they’d be?”

“First thought?” She shrugged. “Well, you mentioned something about Dov wanting to be religious but his father wouldn’t let him. Maybe he’s hiding in a yeshiva. There are quite a few
ba’alei tchuvah
places in Jerusalem that take in American boys, no questions asked. And, let’s face it. All those boys in black coats and hats look alike, tough for a killer to spot him. Plus, it’s hard to get inside a yeshiva unless you know the ropes.”

“You think Gold would know the ropes?”

“Possibly,” Rina said. “But as an Israeli, he probably doesn’t know too much about
ba’alei tchuvah
yeshivas for Americans. By this time, the Yalom boys are more American than Israeli.”

Decker agreed. There was a knock at the door. Immediately, Decker’s heart started pumping hard. Maybe someone had followed Rina back to the hotel. He put his finger to his lips and quietly got off the bed.

“Peter,” Rina whispered. “It’s probably room service.”

He let out a big laugh. Mr. Paranoid! Still, he wasn’t taking any chances. He chained the door before he opened
it and insisted that Rina duck out of sight. Better to feel silly than sorry.

It was room service—a waiter named Mohammed. Decker signed the bill but gave the young man a cash tip. Apparently, it was generous because Mohammed grinned, sporting a clear view of his gold front tooth.

Rina ritually washed her hands, then bit into her sandwich. She was ravenous and it was delicious. Decker sipped his Scotch, noticing that Rina was gulping her wine. She was more nervous than he had ever seen her. Didn’t stop her intellect. Matter of fact, it heightened it.

She said, “We really should go to Jerusalem. That’s where the two big
ba’alei tshuvah
yeshivas are. Milligan’s there. And so are the national police headquarters located at French Hill.”

Decker wiped his mouth. “Then let’s do it.”

Rina finished her sandwich. “Peter, you said that the boys fled shortly after they came home from school. What caused them to run away? The house hadn’t been trashed, had it?”

Decker shook his head no.

“So from the boys’ perspectives,” Rina went on, “they just walked in their front door and saw that their parents weren’t home. Why would the boys have taken off?”

Another very good question. If the boys weren’t involved, how did they know something was amiss. He said, “The only thing I can think of is that the parents left them a sign.”

“A sign?”

“A
signal
of some sort.” Decker thought out loud. “Arik knew that Milligan had a lot to gain if she could get hold of his stocks. Maybe he knew she was capable of doing some pretty ruthless things to further her ambition. So he was worried. He told his sons that if they ever came home and saw such-and-such picture was crooked, or if such-and-such lamp—”

Decker suddenly stopped talking.

“What?” Rina asked.

Decker’s eyes were on Rina, but his mind was elsewhere. “Or if a certain porcelain dog was turned around…” He wagged his finger in the air. “If you see that damn dog in the open shelf in the entry hall turned around, you go grab the money I left hidden for you in the inside mezuzah, you go grab your passports, and you get out of town immediately!”

His focus returned to Rina.

“There was a porcelain dog sitting in Yalom’s entry hall facing backward. It would have been a very easy thing for Arik Yalom to do. Just a simple flick of the wrist on his way out the front door. The boys saw it and fled.”

“They must be terrified.”

“I’m sure they are.” Suddenly, Decker pulled his wife into an embrace. “I love you so damn much!”

“I like it when you’re passionate.”

“That’s not passion, baby, that’s relief.” Decker blew out air. “Let’s go find the boys.”

Decker opened the door, then turned to his wife. “By the way. Did I mention that Honey Klein’s probably in Israel?”

Rina stopped in her tracks. “
What
? She’s
here
? You can’t just
drop
that on me, Peter!”

Decker slipped his arm around Rina’s shoulder and scooted her out the door. “Tell you all about it on the ride over to Jerusalem.”

Rina looked out to a grove of sunflowers, stalks bending under the weight of their fruit, black faces with golden manes craning their necks toward the sunlight. Her eyes stared out the window, but her mind was on other things. She couldn’t believe that Honey Klein had set out to murder her husband. The police and their conclusions just didn’t square with the girl Rina had known, the woman and mother who had visited their home.

She faced her husband. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe it.”

Decker said, “Honey was trapped. As long as Gershon refused to give her a Jewish divorce—a
get
—she couldn’t go on with her life. She couldn’t see her way out of the relationship, so she took matters into her own hands.”

“Honey would
not
kill her husband.”

“And why not? Jews aren’t immune to abject despair that leads to immoral acts.”

“You think she could live with herself and with her
children
, knowing that she purposely murdered their father?”

“How about if the father was abusing the kids?”

A horn honked from behind, a flash of lights in the rearview mirror. Peter glanced over his shoulder, then looked at the speedometer. “I’m going over a hundred kilometers. What the hell does he want from me?”

“Just let him pass.”

“Jerk.” Decker pulled to the side and let a red Honda speed by. “I wish I had my unmarked…pull out the
light and flash the mother. Man, I’d love to give him a ticket.”

“He wasn’t, you know.”

“Who wasn’t? What are you talking about?”

“Gershon Klein. He wasn’t physically abusing the children.”

Decker’s attention was still focused on the obnoxious driver. He turned to Rina. “How do you know?”

Rina blew out air. “Because I asked her.”

“When was this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We never had time to talk about it. I was going to tell you, but then Honey disappeared. You were preoccupied with this big murder case. I didn’t want to disturb your concentration. I thought about it on the plane ride but you slept the whole way—”

“
You
slept. I didn’t sleep a wink. Too busy being serenaded by fifty throat-cracking adolescents singing Crash Test Dummies songs in Spanish.”

“Well, for whatever reason, we didn’t talk.”

Decker said, “You specifically asked Honey if Gershon was abusing the kids?”

“Yes.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said something like…” Rina sighed. “Oh boy, here goes. She said she’d kill him if he ever did that—”

“Oh boy is
right
!”

“No, Peter, it wasn’t like that. You’re taking her words out of context. She went on to say that Gershon had been a good man and a wonderful father—”

“Yeah, she was friggin’ in love with the guy. That’s why she was trying to divorce him.”

“She was cognizant of his problems. She knew he wasn’t…how did she put it…he wasn’t meant for organized life anymore.”

Decker said, “The woman did him in, Rina. Trust me on this one.”

Another honk from behind. Decker yanked the wheel to the right and allowed the Camry to pass. “I’m Jewish
and they’re pissing me off. I could only imagine what a goy would think.”

“It’s a young country.”

“It’s in its late forties.”

“That’s a country in its teens. And like lots of adolescents we know and love, it has no manners. Give it time.”

“What were we talking about?”

“Gershon Klein.”

“Did Honey happen to mention to you that she was trying to divorce the guy?”

“No—”

“Yeah, she conveniently forgot that.”

“I think one of the kids walked in.”

The car began to balk as it made its climb through the mountains, toward Jerusalem. The air was clean and filled with the tang of pines.

“Peter, does it make sense for Honey to murder Gershon by drowning him in a bathtub?”

“It was probably the most effective weapon she had in the house.”

“Then why would she bother to shoot him, drag him over to his office, then trash the place to make it look like a robbery?”

Decker was quiet. “I haven’t worked that part out yet.”

Another blast from a horn. This time it was a woman who passed him. Equal opportunity rudeness. Decker said, “Why do they have a stupid law like that on the books?”

Rina turned to him. “What are you talking about?”

“Why can’t a woman file for a Jewish divorce? The law is so damn archaic as well as sexist. It’s unfair enough to raise even your underdeveloped feminist hackles.”

The car turned silent.

Decker said, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I didn’t mean to be hurtful. I’m sorry.”

“Peter, where is it written that you can’t be traditional and a feminist at the same time? One doesn’t preclude the other.”

“You’re right. I apologize—”

“I know
who
I am and I’m happy. There are still a few
relics
like me who are proud to be full-time mothers.”

“I’m proud of you, Rina. I’m proud of who you are and I wouldn’t want you to change for the world.”

He was
really
trying
! Biting back a smile, Rina gave him a mock sneer. “You’re just kissing up to me because you’re lost in Israel without me.”

Decker was hurt. “I’m being
sincere
!”

“Sincere, my foot!” Rina held back a laugh. “Besides, it’s not the feminists who look askance at us stay-at-home moms. It’s everyone else. Especially the
men
—”

“
What
?”

“Men today have such unreasonable expectations—”

“Is this conversation going to deteriorate into a petty battle of the sexes?”

“It’s not
enough
for us poor women to keep house and take care of the kids.” Rina began to tick off her fingers. “We’ve also got to be beautiful, charming, sexy, physically fit, good cooks—amend that to
gourmet
chefs—”

“I don’t believe I’m hearing—”

“…who can make cappuccino. You haven’t the faintest idea how to steam milk, have you?”

“You got me there, Rina,” Decker said. “For your information, lady, I don’t drink cappuccino.”

“And we also have to work full time and bring in enough money to pay not only our own way, but also help pay for the kids’ clothes, the baby-sitters, the groceries—”

“Are you
done
yet?”

“Basically.”

“Never once have I asked you to work outside the home. And never once have I asked you to pay bills.
So I must be way ahead of those other schmucks you’re talking about.”

“Indeed, Peter, you are neither a chauvinist nor a jerk.”

“So how about a little appreciation?”

“You’re a saint.”

“I didn’t say that! How’d we get on this stupid topic?”

“You were talking about Jewish divorce,” Rina stated. “It’s not the law that’s bad, it’s the implementation of the law that’s the problem. In biblical days, if a husband was recalcitrant, the rabbis had ways of making him cooperate. They might starve him or beat him until he relented and gave his wife a
get
. Harsh methods weren’t considered inhumane acts.”

“You don’t think starving or beating a guy is inhumane?”

“He doesn’t starve or get beaten if he relents, Peter. He only gets into trouble if he remains unreasonably stubborn. Then the rabbis take action because they feel they are actually doing the man a favor—”

“They’re doing him a favor by beating him up? This I’ve got to hear.”

Rina said, “Any man who would blindly refuse to give his wife a
get
was under the control of his
yaitzer harah
—his evil impulses. The rabbis considered it appropriate to beat the
yaitzer harah
out of his soul until he came to reason, until he felt the compassion and kindness of his
yaitzer tov
—his goodness.”

“A lot like leeches. You bleed to death but it’s good for you.”

“Peter, the process wasn’t irreversible. At any time, when the husband saw reason and gave his wife a
get
, the beatings were stopped.”

“They just whopped him until he cried uncle?”

“I’m not a rabbi, so don’t take what I say as fact. But I think the process went something like this. They’d ask him if he was going to give his wife a divorce. If he said no, they’d strike him. Then they’d ask him the same
question again. If he said no again, they’d strike him again. And so on. Each time, they’d stop to ask him, hoping that the
yaitzer harah
had left his soul and he saw reason.”

Decker didn’t speak right away. Then he said, “And what happened if his
yaitzer harah
refused to leave? What happened if he never saw reason?”

Rina was quiet.

“Rina, did you hear my question? What happened if the guy kept on refusing to give his wife a
get
?”

“Again, I’m no rabbi.”

“I understand. Answer the question to the best of your ability.”

Rina exhaled forcefully. “I think that if he died during the procedure, it was not considered murder. It was considered the ultimate liberation of his
yaitzer harah
. The man has seen reason through death. His wife was free.”

“Are you saying if he consistently refused, he was beaten to death?”

“You should ask Rabbi Schulman—”

“To the best of your knowledge, darlin’.”

“I think he could be beaten to the point of death. If he was that desperate or vengeful to hold on to his wife, he was possessed.”

“So this whole ritual is kind of like an exorcism?”

“Peter, I don’t want to misrepresent the law. Ask Rabbi Schulman.”

Decker reflected upon her words as the Subaru continued its upward path to Jerusalem. The whole approach to divorce seemed not only arcane and unnecessary, but
dangerous
. A frustrated woman, a vindictive man, and no way out. Decker cleared his throat. “Does it have to be beating or starving the man?”

“What do you mean?”

“Suppose the rabbis…” Again, Decker cleared his throat. “Can they exorcise the demons by drowning instead?”

“Gershon was shot, Peter.”

“But he died from drowning, Rina. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? Because if anyone was possessed, it was Gershon Klein. It wasn’t his fault per se, just his
yaitzir harah
acting up—”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m trying to make sense out of something that’s irrational to me. I’m trying to think like Honey’s Rebbe, putting myself in his position. Because that’s who she’d run to. The Rebbe probably figured what would it hurt to give him a few minor dunkings. It’s better than a beating because it doesn’t leave marks—”

“Peter, the main objective of the process wasn’t to kill anyone. It was to bring the man to reason.”

“But what if the man is simply
incapable
of reason, Rina?” Decker heard another honk. Instead of pulling over, he pressed the pedal to the metal. The car bucked, then flew upward, jolting them back in their seats.

“What are you doing?” Rina cried out.

Decker said, “Car doesn’t accelerate too well, does it? You like my theory?”

“No.”

“Why? Because you don’t want to picture a bunch of holy rabbis methodically drowning a crazy man?”

“Even if you’re right, even if they were trying to bring Gershon to reason, I’m sure they didn’t
mean
to kill him.”

“But Gershon’s still dead all the same. No wonder the great Rebbe didn’t want me on the case. He wasn’t protecting Honey. He was trying to save his own hide.”

“Maybe he was doing both.”

“One thing is for certain. He was being obstructionist for his own gain. Because he couldn’t see beyond the absurdity of what he was doing. Talk about blindly following the letter of the law.”

Rina didn’t answer. They drove the next few minutes in heavy silence. Finally, she said, “I’m very religious, Peter. I accept lots of laws on faith. Even laws that don’t make a lot of sense to me. Even so, I am a product of
the twentieth century. The way Jewish divorce has been used by some men against their wives is a crime. Resentful husbands basically blackmail the women. They use
gets
as weapons—to obtain better property settlements or better visitation rights…to get lower alimony and child-support payments. It’s terrible. Some of the rabbis are very sympathetic to the women’s plights.” She paused. “But others are not.”

“Is anyone
doing
anything about it?”

“Yes, of course. Some of the rabbis are putting clauses in the official Jewish marriage contract—the
ketubah
. They add clauses that state that if the husband refuses to give his wife a Jewish divorce after the civil divorce goes through, he must pay her enormous amounts of money daily until he relents. Unfortunately, the rabbis weren’t doing things like that when Honey got married.”

Decker said, “I don’t think money would have been a motivating factor for someone as far gone as Gershon Klein anyway.”

“So maybe the rabbis did what they thought they could do. Maybe they used what halachic means they had available.”

“It’s
murder
, Rina!”

“You’re judging by American jurisprudence standards.”

“Damn right, I am. They live in the U.S.A., not in Israel…do they do that in Israel?”

Rina shook her head. “They just put them in jail.”

“But they don’t starve them…beat them?”

“No, they can’t do that legally.”

“So even here, it’s murder.”

Rina didn’t speak.

Decker said, “You don’t consider it murder?”

“I consider the whole thing tragic.”

Rina navigated Decker down Jaffa Road—an old main thoroughfare cluttered with people and traffic. Decker
wanted to gawk, to take in the parade, but there was work to be done. Sightseeing was for another time and occasion. By the grime collected on the buildings, Decker could tell he was in the old area of town. It wasn’t pretty but it wasn’t ugly either. Part of the reason was that all the buildings were made from the same colored limestone. The material not only lent a uniformity to the city, but was durable as well.