Asylum City (36 page)

As Itai stared at the pictures, the voice of his grandfather echoed in his head. A Holocaust survivor, he'd taught his grandson that wherever there are victims of war crimes, there are war criminals. The deputy consul general was standing over him. “Are you convinced now, Mr. Fisher? Not everything is black and white, is it?” he said imperiously.

Shaken, Itai left the consulate and immediately called Anat.

FROM
his seat in the observation room, Itai heard Anat play the recording of Kabri's call to the tip line reporting that he'd seen Gabriel in Levinsky Park. He never had any intention of helping Gabriel. On the contrary, he was setting him up from the very beginning.

Kabri laughed derisively. Where was the man Itai had worked with for so long, the man he'd believed in, trusted, considered a friend?

ANAT
gazed at Kabri in silence, trying to conceal the storm raging inside her. Her suspicions had initially been aroused when she couldn't find his name on any recent flight manifest or Border Police record. The transcript of his interview at the camp where he was detained when he first arrived in Israel convinced her she was on the right track. He reported that the rest of his family was dead, murdered by soldiers. He was the sole survivor. So the stories about his sick wife and the children he'd left behind were total fiction, no more than a barefaced lie. Any lingering doubts evaporated when she asked another interpreter to translate the exchanges that had taken place between Arami and Gabriel in the interrogation room.

“We're waiting,” Yaron barked, banging on the table. “Tell us how you killed her.”

Kabri smirked, exposing his teeth. A shiver went down Anat's spine. She had been shocked by the information Itai brought back from the consulate. The man across from her wasn't only Michal Poleg's murderer, he was a war criminal who had brazenly been hiding out among his own victims.

“You think you frighten me?” he said haughtily. “You're nothing but rotten parasites. You don't know anything about me. You think if you bang on the table, I'll quiver in fear?”

Yaron started toward him, but Anat held him back. They could put Arami—Kabri—in Michal's apartment. They'd found his fingerprints there. But they were still missing two vital elements: hard evidence that he was responsible for her death, and a motive. The only way to get them was here in the interrogation room. It was up to her to do it.

“We can send you back there, you know,” she said, training her eyes on him. “Just so it's clear, if you don't give us what we want, you'll be on a plane before the day is over. A general in the Eritrean army can't claim asylum.”

Kabri waved his hand dismissively.

“We're giving you a chance. I suggest you take it,” she went on. She was having trouble keeping her voice steady. The suspects she'd interrogated up to now had all been lightweights compared to Kabri.

He didn't answer.

They had no firm forensic evidence. It was all circumstantial. But Anat didn't have the slightest doubt he was the murderer. All the pieces had fallen into place.

“The people at the consulate are eager for us to turn you over to them. It seems they've been looking for you for quite some time,” she said, trying a different tack. She had to find the right buttons to push to get a confession out of him.

“Before I say anything, I want to cut a deal,” Kabri said calmly.

“I'm listening.”

“I tell you what I know and you let me walk out of here and arrange for me to leave your pitiful country without any interference.”

Yaron laughed.

“What do you know?” Anat asked, struggling to keep a poker face to hide the hope, and apprehensions, that were flooding her.

“I know about the crime syndicate you're trying to get your hands on. About the man you're after, what do you call him, the ‘Banker'?” he said, giving her a self-satisfied smile.

“Let's hear what you have to say and then we'll decide. Start with Michal Poleg's murder.”

Kabri laughed.

“You think we're still playing games here, Detective? You're not dealing with meek little Arami anymore. You can't manipulate me so easily. You want information? Fine. But you'll have to pay for it. Before I open my mouth, I want a lawyer and a signed agreement. And go get someone with authority in here. You're out of your depth, Inspector Nachmias.”

ITAI
watched as Galit Lavie entered the room and closed the door behind her. Even her promise that Gabriel would be out by tonight and she'd try to arrange for him to be awarded compensation for false arrest weren't enough to temper the bile rising in his throat. He was utterly disgusted by the deal that was about to be concluded between the prosecutor and Kabri's attorney.

“You know her?” Anat asked, touching his shoulder lightly.

“We were in law school together in Jerusalem,” Itai replied with a grateful smile. It was good to see a friendly face.

“I don't envy her,” Anat said, taking a seat opposite him, “having to cut a deal like this. It turns my stomach.”

“They're going to let him go,” he said. It was more a statement than a question.

Anat nodded.

“Michal deserved better,” Itai said with a sigh, cupping his face in his hands. “She would have found it even more repugnant than we do. She wouldn't have wanted her death to be an excuse to let this scum of the earth walk free.”

“You know what? I'm not sure I agree with you.” Anat leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think I've come to know Michal a little this past month. She never believed in compromising her principles, no matter what. We're finishing what she started. We're going to get the ‘Banker.' A few hours from now, the bastard will be in custody.”

“But he's not the one who killed Michal. And you're releasing a war criminal. Can you imagine the international uproar if a country like Hungary let a Nazi criminal go free for any reason whatsoever?”

They sat opposite each other in silence. Itai was still in shock from the revelation of Arami's true identity. And he was consumed by guilt. Michal tried to reach him that Saturday night. She left a message saying she'd uncovered something, that they'd been blind. But he didn't listen. Anat said it was Kabri who informed on Hagos, who told the Immigration Police that Hagos and his family had lived in Ethiopia for a few years. That was enough for the Interior Ministry to decide that he was an Ethiopian national and therefore eligible for deportation. Is that what Michal found out? Did she discover the truth about Arami?

“Galit promised they'd release Gabriel in a few hours,” Itai said, breaking the silence.

“I heard. I want to apologize to him, to you, for everything. . . . But you have to understand . . . he turned himself in, he confessed. . . . We couldn't ignore that.”

“I know. It's not your fault. The whole issue of the asylum seekers isn't easy. It's not just a matter of what to do about them, how to help them. You also need to understand where they're coming from.” For some reason he felt the urge to shield her from the guilt he could hear in her voice.

Anat rewarded him with a grateful smile.

The door opened and Galit Lavie came out.

“It's done,” she announced.

THERE
were four of them in the room: Galit and Anat on one side of the table, Kabri and his lawyer on the other.

“We agreed to keep this short and to the point,” the lawyer snapped. Galit gave him a dirty look. She was well aware of the need for defense attorneys, but she still found them hard to stomach—particularly when they represented people like Kabri.

“Let me remind you,” she said in an authoritative tone, “according to the terms of our agreement, your client is required to answer all questions fully and truthfully. If I'm not convinced that he's holding up his end of the bargain, the deal's off. Is that clear?”

The counselor nodded.

“Are you responsible for the death of Michal Poleg?” Anat decided to open with the most fundamental question.

“Yes,” Kabri answered without hesitation. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. Given all the twists and turns in the investigation, she was worried he might deny it.

“How?”

“I hit her on the back of the neck with a beer bottle. She fell and banged her head on the table,” Kabri stated with no more emotion than if he were talking about the weather. Anat wondered what Yaron and Yochai in the observation room were thinking. Gabriel had been unable to describe how the murder took place, but Kabri was providing a precise account, including details that had never been released to the public, details only the killer himself could know.

“Why?”

“She found out about my connection with the ‘Banker.' She saw us together. She threatened to expose me. She accused me of being responsible for Hagos's deportation.”

“Did she know you informed on him?”

“No. It was just a guess.”

“Why did you go to the Immigration Police?”

“Hagos latched on to me like a leech. He was getting in the way, making it hard for me to do my job for the bank.” He was sitting erect in his seat, as if he were still wearing the uniform with the gold stars on the epaulets that Anat had seen in the pictures Itai showed her.

“What job was that?”

“I brought in new clients. All the migrants passed through OMA. I heard what they needed and offered them a way to get it.”

“What about your work for the police?”

“Another source of information,” he said cavalierly.

“Do you know Yariv Ninio?” Anat couldn't resist asking.

“I know who he is.”

“Were you working together?” she asked, hoping that was one arrest she'd be able to justify. The order for his release had already been signed. Like Gabriel, he would be out before the end of the day.

“No.” Anat was ready with her next question when he went on. It was not what she was expecting. “He banged on the door when I was in Michal's apartment. He was drunk. Michal and I were arguing. She wanted me to go to the police and rat out the bank. She tried to get rid of him, but he started forcing his way in. I was standing behind the door. I slammed it into him. He fell down. His face was bleeding. A few minutes later he left.”

It all made sense now: the blood and the prints on the outside of the door, the bruises on Ninio's face, maybe even his blurred memory. If the door struck him hard enough, he could have had a concussion. At least that mystery was solved. Kabri was sitting there looking smug, waiting calmly for the next question. “What did you do after you killed her?”

“I was planning to leave the city, lie low for a while. I was about to take off when Gabriel told me he was in Michal's apartment and her neighbor saw him there. It was a golden opportunity. I just had to put you on his tail and then you'd look for him instead of me. I told him to go hide in the park and I called the tip line. But your guys screwed up. So I arranged to meet him in an alley and told some thugs where he'd be. I said the cops were after him and there was a big reward waiting for them if they turned him in. But he got away from them.”

“So you decided to pay him to confess to Michal's murder?”

“No, it wouldn't have been worth the money to me. But the bank didn't like it that the cops were swarming the neighborhood. They wanted them out of the way. So I did the math and I figured this way Gabriel would get the money to ransom his sister and the cops would get their killer.”

“Were you involved in his sister's abduction?”

“No.”

“So you hung Gabriel out to dry and helped his sister?”

“It wasn't personal. I liked Gabriel. I wasn't out to hurt him. But I knew if I helped Liddie, he'd agree to confess. And as long as it served my purposes, I was glad to do it.”

Anat got a sour look on her face.

“People like you,” Kabri said with a bitter expression in his eyes, “you can't understand people like us. The world we grew up in is a jungle. If you're not on the side of the predators, you get eaten. It's the only way to survive.”

Galit gestured for her to move on. There was no reason to listen to his political manifesto.

“Did the bank know you killed Michal?” Anat asked, adopting the term he'd used.

“I was going to tell them, but then Gabriel came along and I decided to keep it to myself. I didn't think they'd be pleased.”

“Why not? She was interfering in their business, wasn't she?”

“Not enough to get her killed.”

“But you told them later, didn't you?”

“Yes. When my picture appeared on the Internet. It fucked everything up.”

“What story did you give them?”

“I said I was in Michal's apartment when Yariv Ninio showed up and murdered her. I knew they'd find a way to use it. Considering the state he was in, I was hoping Ninio wouldn't remember what happened that night. In return for the information, I said I wanted money and a safe place to hide.”

“Did you make a lot of money from the bank?” Anat asked, changing direction.

“I worked on commission. It pays better than interpreting for the cops or washing dishes, if that's what you're asking, but not enough to get rich. I figured I needed thirty thousand dollars to get myself out of the country. I already had two-thirds of it.”

“Why didn't the bank help you leave after you told them about Ninio?”

“It's almost impossible these days. Ehud Regev has the Interior Ministry running scared. They're not giving out any travel documents.”

“Do you have family in Eritrea?”

For the first time, Kabri lowered his eyes. “No. No one,” he said, looking back up at her. “I had a wife and three kids. They were killed.”