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Authors: D. A. Mishani

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BOOK: A Possibility of Violence
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Ma'alul again asked for permission to speak. He turned to Avraham and said, “Avi, before we start working, I'd like you to explain to me why you're so sure it's Sara. Because you're sure of this, yes? And I respect your gut feelings.”

Was there a need to explain again?

He was sure because of the phone call and the motive and the plane tickets. Because of the strange travel story. And there were additional reasons, that he managed to explain to himself only retrospectively, once the case had come to an end. Ilana examined Ma'alul's facial expression and large eyes while Avraham spoke. He wasn't convinced, and she asked him why.

“I would be convinced if this were a spontaneous attack,” Ma'alul said. “At the daycare, for example, or immediately after it was closed. But if there actually is a connection between the suitcase and the assault, there appears to be a clear pattern of criminal activity here—placing a fake bomb and making a phone threat after that and then a meeting late at night in an empty place. It all attests to a criminal plan and not to violence stemming from a loss of control. It's hard for me to believe that a fifty-seven-year-old man, without a criminal past, would, or could, carry out well-planned acts like these. Guys like him resort to violence spontaneously, and sometimes unintentionally, out of a loss of control. On the other hand, I didn't question him or see him, and I'm willing to go with Avi's gut feelings.”

Zaytuni wrote hurriedly in his notepad again. This time the words that caused Avraham to respond to the doubt that had been cast on his investigation were “guys like him.” He said quietly, “Did any of us think that Ofer Sharabi's parents were capable of hiding his death and fabricating a sophisticated cover story for his absence?” and was immediately sorry he'd said that.

This was the first time that he, Ma'alul, and Ilana had gathered together since the day that case was solved. And the first time that he addressed aloud the lessons that he'd gleaned from that same case. To look with eyes open. And not trust anyone. The two of them considered him with a strange look, and Ilana said, “This isn't the same case, nor the same people, Avi. And I tend to agree with Eliyahu. But let's see.”

They walked together down the long corridor on the way to the elevator, Zaytuni and Ma'alul first, Avraham and Ilana after, and Ilana said to him, “You look like you haven't slept. Everything okay, Avi?” And Avraham said only, “I had a very short night.”

When they reached the elevator, Ilana asked, “Did you hear what happened at the hospital?” And Avraham turned to her, surprised, because he feared that something had happened to Chava Cohen's son—or that someone had reported his unexpected nap. Ma'alul held the elevator door open while she told them.

It turned out that a city beat cop arrived at the accident site where a truck collided with a motorcycle and noticed that under his leather jacket the rider lying in the street was wearing a black T-shirt with the word “Polska” on it. He quickly reported this, even before the rider was taken away in an ambulance. Shrapstein was waiting for the injured man in the hospital with an arrest warrant in hand and shortly afterward he had in his possession a documented confession, and the assassination attempt on Shenkar Street had been solved.

And all this happened while Avraham dozed in a chair in front of Chava Cohen's room, not far from the emergency room? He didn't tell Ilana that he went there to check on her because he hadn't been able to sleep at home, and that of all places his eyes closed opposite her sleeping son. Ma'alul said, “The sages would say about this, ‘To the righteous goes the luck,' no?”

 

HE MANAGED TO AVOID THOUGHTS OF
Marianka also later that day, until he returned home, before evening. He went back to the station and heard a brief report about Sara's activities. His preparations for the trip continued: at eleven he went out and again walked downtown, this time in order to buy a suitcase. His children still weren't with him and his wife was nowhere in evidence. And he didn't meet with anyone. A representative of Royal Jordanian, the last airline with which Avraham had to check on Sara's wife's travels, confirmed that Jennifer Salazar never flew with them to Manila via Amman and Hong Kong.

He ate an early lunch in the cafeteria and returned to his office.

According to The World Clock website, when it was noon in Holon it was exactly six in the evening in Manila. He was surprised when he heard the deep masculine voice that answered him at the Manila Police Information Center, and he said in English, “My name is Chief Inspector Avraham Avraham of the Israel Police. Can I speak to an officer from the Inspections Division?”

At first the Filipino man didn't understand his request, or why he was asking to speak in English with the Inspections Division, which they called the Department of Criminal Investigations and Surveillance, and Avraham was forced to explain that he needed the assistance of the local police in the investigation of the placing of a fake bomb and an assault that occurred in Tel Aviv, even though he didn't intend on revealing too many details of the case. He thought that perhaps he should try and make contact with the Aviation Security Department or simply speak with the Philippine police through the Unit for Foreign Relations. He said again, “My name is Chief Inspector Avraham from the Israel Police and I'm investigating an attack and a dummy bomb,” and added that the matter was urgent. The man asked him to wait on the line.

The website of the Philippine police was rich in information about the organization's structure and the positions within it, but there wasn't a photo on it of the police headquarters and thus he couldn't picture what kind of building the man who answered him was sitting in or what the room looked like where in another moment an officer from the Department of Criminal Investigations and Surveillance would pick up the phone. In the many pictures on the website the Filipino policemen appeared smiling and meticulously dressed. All of them were slender and many wore glasses, which gave their faces a refined, sophisticated appearance. The truth was that Avraham knew little about the Philippines—only that the country was located somewhere in Asia and that its economic situation must be somewhat difficult if so many Filipinos came to work in Israel. And what did the street views from the windows of the police headquarters in Manila look like? He was sorry that he hadn't done more research before calling the police center, and tried to open the “Philippines” page in Wikipedia, but he then heard another voice come on the line, thin and almost birdlike.

Brigadier General Anselmo Garbo, head of the Department of Criminal Investigations and Surveillance, asked him in quick English, “With whom do I have the honor of speaking?” And Avraham hoped that he wouldn't be disappointed when he introduced himself again as only chief inspector. The name of the Filipino officer immediately gave rise to envy in him. “I understand that you are phoning in regards to an explosive device,” Anselmo Garbo said, and Avraham said, “Yes, definitely.”

“In Manila?” asked Garbo, and Avraham suddenly understood that the Filipino telephone receptionist made a mistake and assumed that he was calling in order to avert a terrorist attack and said, “No, no, I'm not calling about a terrorist attack. I'm from the Department of Criminal Investigations.”

Avraham read the rest of what he had to say from the paper resting in front of him in order to avoid a misunderstanding. “We are in need of your assistance in locating a citizen of the Philippines who lives in Israel. According to the information given to us and the records of the border police, she left Israel on the twelfth of September en route to the Philippines, but we have not succeeded in finding the flight that she boarded. We would like you to help us confirm that she is in the Philippines, and also to locate her.”

Garbo listened patiently to his words and asked Avraham for his name, rank, and phone number and apparently wrote them down. He had no apparent reason for thinking this, but it seemed to Avraham that the inspector he was speaking with was brilliant and shrewd. His words were brief and his voice was ear piercing. “Are you trying to inform me that a citizen of the Philippines is missing in Israel?” asked Garbo, and Avraham said, “No. I want to clarify if she entered your country and when.”

“Could you tell me from which date she is missing and who submitted the complaint?”

“No one submitted a complaint. We simply need to summon her to give testimony.”

Garbo wouldn't relent, and Avraham was forced to tell him that he wanted to summon the absent woman for questioning in regards to an assault that took place in Tel Aviv. He explained that she was not suspected of involvement in the assault but that her testimony was essential, and for some reason he sensed that Garbo did not believe him. After receiving Jennifer Salazar's passport number from Avraham, Garbo said briefly, “I will update my supervisors and the Department of International Coordination and respond to you soon,” and hung up.

On Wikipedia Avraham read that Manila is the most crowded metropolis in the world and that more than fifteen million people live there. He couldn't understand how a police inspector there could locate an anonymous attacker or a person who placed a fake bomb and then disappeared into a mass like that.

When he Googled the name of the Filipino officer he was astounded.

Brigadier General Anselmo Garbo was the most decorated inspector in the Manila police. Four years earlier, according to a story that he read in the
Daily Tribune
, he caught a serial killer who had terrorized the residents of the city for over half a year. The fellow had murdered eleven people, carved up their abdomens, and placed amid their internal organs a rare flower—a
Michauxia campanuloides
. Afterward he sewed up their abdomens with a surgeon's precision. Garbo joined the investigation late because he was on a year of study at the Academy for Criminal Investigations in Paris, and two weeks after his return was on the murderer's trail, after deciphering the meaning of the deadly symbol.

Avraham felt as if he had spoken with a character out of a movie or a novel.

A picture was included in the story and Avraham saw that Garbo's face was small and narrow with a hawklike nose, and that he wore round glasses. Also he was bald.

He called the hospital after a cigarette break and spoke with a rude doctor from the Trauma Unit. Forensics promised him that by tomorrow analysis of the findings from the scene of the assault would be completed. When he opened the door to his apartment, in the early evening, he heard a ringing from inside. He had a feeling that the telephone had been ringing between the empty walls of his apartment for some time, and that Marianka was the caller, and he hurried to pick up but was met with silence on the other end of the line. He waited for the device to ring again. Afterward he sent Marianka another e-mail: W
ILL WE NEVER SPEAK AGAIN
?

She didn't reply to this one, either.

 

THAT NIGHT HE SLEPT FOR A
long time, but the investigation wouldn't let go of him. He dreamed that he was falling and spinning around and that nothing he tried to grab hold of could keep him from falling. Marianka was supposed to be waiting for him at a bus stop.

The ring of the cell phone, which he had left next to the bed, woke him. An international number appeared on the screen and he answered because he thought it was her, but it was the sharp voice of Anselmo Garbo coming through the phone: “Inspector Avraham? This is Brigadier General Garbo from the Department of Criminal Investigations and Surveillance of the Manila Police. Is now a good time for you to talk?”

He said yes and sat up in his bed.

“We performed a check according to your request yesterday, and a few moments ago I sent you by e-mail a detailed report with the results. But I wanted to tell you in short that Jennifer Salazar last entered the Philippines eight years ago and has not visited since. And another important thing: you said that her husband testified that she traveled to the Philippines to care for her father, but both her parents died many years ago. Can you hear me, Inspector Avraham? The Philippine Police is troubled by the information you conveyed to us and asks that you provide us with updates continuously throughout your investigation into this matter.”

Avraham didn't remember telling Garbo that Jennifer Salazar traveled to visit her father, but maybe he did. Or perhaps the illustrious inspector simply read his mind? He thanked Garbo and promised to be in touch with him soon. And then he immediately woke up.

For some reason he felt that the information the Filipino inspector gave him had filled him with strength. That his fall had come to a halt. He went to his work room to read the report that Garbo had sent him and to update Ilana. But before doing this, he phoned Ma'alul, and the senior investigator, who the day before had been less than convinced, said to him, “Okay, Avi, looks like you were right.” He was going to ask Ilana if he could finally arrest Sara now and bring him in for questioning, but before he could even manage to open his mouth she stunned him: “Very good that you called, Avi. Right on time. I need you to go to the hospital immediately. Five minutes ago they called from the hospital to report that Chava Cohen woke up last night.”

 

HE WAS THERE JUST A FEW
minutes later, after traveling at a dizzying speed, and nearly ran through the corridors of the Trauma Unit, but the doctor on call wouldn't let him enter her room. According to the decision of the medical team, the police would not be allowed to see Chava Cohen before she was fully recovered. He asked the doctor on call if she was able to speak, and the doctor said, “At this moment the patient isn't speaking, just crying. You will need to wait until the afternoon at least.” Ilana announced that she wanted to take part in the questioning, even if it took place in the middle of the night, and instructed him to have a videography team on call to document it. He told her about his conversation with Garbo and she said, “Excellent. So if Chava Cohen confirms that Sara is the assailant, then we'll be able to confront him with that, too, during questioning.”

BOOK: A Possibility of Violence
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