Murder in Jerusalem (30 page)

“After that—it was around nine o'clock—when all the editors were in their meeting, I slipped in and out of Zadik's office. You know, there are always all kinds of little emergencies that I can't phone in about but that Zadik has to respond to. And in any event, those editors, they're not gods or anything, I've known them all for ages. I didn't exactly hear what they were discussing, but every time I went in, I picked up something else. You may think I'm just some secretary, but I'm not. You can ask anyone about me. Everything I do requires brains, even, oh, never mind…I went in and out of the office, I heard all kinds of things, I was sort of generally in the picture about what they were discussing. After all, a good secretary needs to know what's going on. So they're talking about this new television series,
Tekuma,
about the founding of the state of Israel, and Diti, the programming director, says they're not running enough promos for it and she's arguing with Zadik, who reminds her that the show won't be aired for another three weeks and that they're already running nightly promos, which he says is enough. So then they're fighting, I mean, not really fighting, just arguing, but then the argument gets a bit, well…never mind, what's important is that I came into the room and suddenly someone asked me, ‘Aviva, you tell us: who's right? Are we running enough promos or not?' Well, what am I supposed to say? I mean, I just want to be on good terms with everyone, so I'm sure not going to take sides. That way I'll get myself in trouble with the whole world. Then after that they started up with Nitzan, the scheduling director. He's supposed to meet with Zadik and Diti and fill in all the slots. But then, like, for the cooking slot, which they just replaced with
The Simpsons,
he had no idea, they'd decided without consulting him and he claimed they'd made him a laughingstock and a rubber stamp. They hadn't let him know about the change in time, and not only that: they'd been talking about approving Benny Meyuhas's production,
Iddo and Eynam,
and airing it in prime time, starting with promos already, but had anybody informed Nitzan about it? Nope. All he's been hearing about is that they're planning to put a stop to the production altogether. So who's going to tell him? And then there was the young woman who edits and prints the daily schedules, you know, from six in the morning until programming ends at night. Oh, I can't sit here explaining what every person does at Israel Television—anyway, they started discussing
Iddo and Eynam,
and Rubin opened his mouth, I happened to be there because Diti had a sore throat and I kept bringing her more lemon for her tea. I heard Rubin shouting about
Iddo and Eynam
and then they screened a little of it. They asked me to watch, too, to give my opinion. What can I tell you, it was really impressive. I didn't exactly understand what I was seeing, some kind of ceremony, either a ritual slaughter or a wedding, there was a slaughtered sheep. Yes, a sheep, what of it?! Why are you looking at me like that, what did I say? No, they slaughter a sheep and then this girl dips her…no, the girl. I can't do this now, all that blood. But it was all before…before…never mind. They called me in and asked my opinion. I'm not just some nobody who won't say what she thinks, I have an opinion and Zadik respects it. So I said the film was good. I told them, ‘Whatever money has been invested has already been invested, there's so little left to do, why not finish it properly? Wouldn't it be a shame not to?' That's what I think. So then Hefetz said, ‘What about the Lavi fighter jet project? Didn't they put a stop to that after spending two billion dollars? Yes, they certainly did.' To which Rubin replies, ‘You think this film is no good? How can you possibly think that? When's the last time you saw something of this quality on television?' And Hefetz says, ‘We work for Israel Television, not the BBC. This isn't what the public wants, you have to keep the public satisfied. This show will have zero ratings, that's for sure.' So Rubin says, ‘Hefetz, so much has already been invested,' and then Hefetz says, ‘So what? Since when is that a consideration? Drama sure isn't the Lavi project, and even that they put a stop to after spending two billion dollars. So for sure we can put a stop to this.' See what a great memory I have? That's just the way I am, I remember
everything
. Tell me something and then ask me tomorrow what it was you said, and I'll be able to give it back to you word for word. After Hefetz finished talking, everyone started shouting. I was the only one who could see that Zadik was convinced. Not by Hefetz, but by Rubin. But he wasn't saying anything yet. He looked at Hefetz and said quietly, so that they practically couldn't hear him, ‘If we went according to your standards, then all we'd have here, all day long, would be news and the Eurovision Song Contest.' So Hefetz looks at him and says, ‘You got something against the Eurovision Song Contest?' And all this takes place with the door open, because I thought I was coming in for just a minute, but I was wrong, and I had left the door to the office open. So I'm in the office listening to all this, when at last Zadik moves his chair back, angry like, and he stands up and says, ‘Aviva, find Benny Meyuhas for me. I want to inform him that he has permission to complete
Iddo and Eynam
.' A few people applauded, not everybody. Hefetz didn't say a word, he just sat there making a face. I've known Hefetz for a long time, too, we've been through a lot together. Anyway, I went to look for Benny Meyuhas. What do you mean, where? Everywhere! At home, on his cell phone, at Hagar's. Only he wasn't anywhere. He wasn't answering his home phone, or the cell, even Hagar didn't have a clue where he was. So how could
I
know? I mean, she was his shadow, did you know that? It's not important, it's just that later, when all the stuff started, before what happened happened, before…” She covered her face with her hands and breathed deeply, then removed her hands and looked at him, horrified. “Before I found Zadik lying like that across his desk…his head…all that blood…”

Michael stood up and poured more mineral water into her cup, which he placed in her hand. He touched her shoulder and said, as if to a frightened child, “Drink. Drink a little.” She obeyed, drinking a few sips, then wiped her lips with the back of her hand. She raised her eyes and regarded him with gratitude; she wished to please him, and continued talking.

“Hagar came here too. Not here, I mean, there. To my office. Believe me, I'm so confused I don't know where I am anymore. Anyway, she came in, stood next to my desk, and didn't stop talking. She hadn't seen Benny Meyuhas since yesterday, she was already very worried. She was with the actress from his production; all this was before Zadik—the actress, the Ethiopian girl, I can't remember her name. She's Ethiopian, isn't she? I don't care one way or another, but they call her the Indian, Benny's Indian actress, but I think she's from Ethiopia. I think she didn't want to say she was from Ethiopia, she prefers—nobody seems to know anything about her, maybe just Benny and Hagar. Don't think that everyone around here is so open-minded. There are ranks and classes, you better believe it! Especially with the technicians. Her skin is so dark, but maybe not dark enough; I don't know if there are such light-skinned Ethiopians. Never mind, it doesn't matter. The actress said that yesterday, when she was in his house with him, someone came and called for him. She didn't see who it was. She was somewhere else in the house. Maybe the bathroom. She said she was in the bathroom, but I want to tell you what
I
think. Yeah, I think so, it's a known phenomenon between directors and actresses. I'm not saying he wasn't…well, with the business with Tirzah and all that. I'm sure that Benny's in mourning. Distraught. But that's got nothing to do with it. You've got to understand, that has nothing to do with it. I remember once when I was really young, I had this relative, an older man, he's passed away since then, poor guy. Well, his wife died—nobody's ever said so, but I'm sure she died of cancer—and two days after her funeral I was visiting the house. Actually, she was my relative, not him, a cousin of my mother's. I was still in the army and my mother, may she rest in peace, said, ‘Aviva, go visit him, please, sweetie.' I was my mother's youngest, her darling. I was a good girl and did what she asked. She said, ‘Aviva dear, Shmulik is sitting shiva, go visit him and bring him some joy, help him overcome his sadness a bit.' So I went to pay a shiva call, even though I didn't really want to. I didn't want to because I had a bad feeling about it. I told you, some people can feel things in advance. I went into the kitchen for a moment to drink some water or something, and what happens but he followed me in, grabbed me in the corner. In the kitchen, next to the sink. He came up close and started telling me they didn't have a good life together, him and his wife. I mean, his wife's body hadn't even had time to cool off yet—they'd been married for something like thirty years, he must have been well over fifty, with grown children, and I wasn't even twenty—and here he was, grabbing me in the corner during his wife's shiva. I swear it. He's talking to me, and touching me too, at first just my face, and then he's stroking me. And he's not ashamed one bit. Do you think it was from his sadness? Could it be the sadness he felt? In any event, that's what I think about Benny Meyuhas and his actress. I saw her, and she's beautiful, that's for sure, if you like them thin and black-haired. It's a matter of taste. I personally don't…

“Where was I? Oh, yeah, Benny's nowhere to be found, and then Rubin says, ‘I'll find him,' to which Zadik shouts, ‘How is it that you have time for such things? What's going on? Is your report ready?' And Rubin says, ‘It's completely ready, including footage of the mother of the guy who was interrogated. I've got it all on film, be prepared for a real brouhaha.' Then Zadik is already sighing because he knows he's going to have trouble on his hands with the hospital spokesman and with the minister of health and all that, but anyway…”

 

In the adjacent room, on the other side of the window covered by a heavy curtain, they could hear the chair being pushed back, the sobbing, the noisy sipping of water. Rafi took the opportunity to change the reel on the recording device. “Whoa, that one's got a real case of diarrhea of the mouth,” he said quietly as he pressed a button on the amplifier. “She just keeps talking and talking and talking and you don't even need to ask any questions. I've never seen anyone go on like that.”

Again they could hear muffled sobs. Aviva was mumbling, “I'm sorry, forgive me, I can't,” followed by deep, hoarse coughing.

“That's because of the shot,” a sergeant named Ronen explained. “With some people it doesn't put them to sleep, it has the opposite effect: they become even more wide awake, but without inhibitions.”

“I don't know if this one had any inhibitions to begin with,” Rafi muttered. “She seems like someone who—”

“Tell me,” Lillian whispered when they heard Michael asking if she had the strength to continue, “what about him? Ohayon? He hasn't said a word.” She peeked around the edge of the curtain. “How is it that she's going on and on like that when he doesn't say a thing?”

Rafi frowned and, stroking his light beard, said, “You can count on him, that's the way it always is. He just focuses his eyes on her and doesn't lower them. Believe me, that's all it takes.”

“Not always,” Ronen said. “First he asks a few questions, but sometimes, like in this case, all he has to do is ask what happened. You see how many times he said, ‘Don't worry, just tell me whatever pops into your head'? With him, every word is planned: ‘Tell
me
.' He puts the emphasis on ‘me.' Like he has a special way of listening to her, like he's there just for her. Sometimes that's all it takes. A little personal attention. What more are people looking for? They just want—”

“Quiet,” Rafi said, cutting him off. “She's starting to talk again.”

 

“You may as well give me the whole bottle of water. If it's next to me, I won't have to keep asking for it. Where was I? Oh, yeah, people kept coming in and going out. Niva came in looking for Hefetz in the middle of the meeting, and Danny Benizri, and somebody else, I don't remember who. I didn't write them all down, I mean, why would I? The security people downstairs do, they keep track of everyone who comes in from outside the building, but why would I? I just write down the appointments. But I've already given your people my appointment book. The policeman with the green eyes took it. Eli, right? Eli Bachar. Nice guy, but married. I told you, the nice ones are always married. Isn't that true? Never mind, where was I? That's right. So then everyone left, and there was a moment when Zadik was all by himself, nobody else was in his office, and then he made a few phone calls and by then it was already ten-thirty and they hadn't finished with the news yet, and everybody who wandered in stopped to look at the monitor to see what was happening with the wives of the unemployed workers at the intersections, especially that pregnant one. Esty, that's her name, right? The one who chained herself to the steering wheel? And we were looking for the labor minister, who also took a long time to locate. Even her parliamentary assistant didn't know where she was. All that was my responsibility. If someone can't be found, it's like it's my fault. All in all I just want to do my job the best I can and make it home every day in one piece, you understand? I'm clearly overqualified, I've had job offers, I could be—but nothing's worth trading in my job security. When you're a woman on her own, you simply can't manage without financial security. What am I talking about: financial security? That's a laugh, my salary is a bad joke, believe me, the bare minimum, but with overtime and a good pension program and lots of years on the job…I can't very well allow myself, as a single woman, to throw it all away. You know what I mean? I'm not exactly looking for adventures, I've learned to hang on to what I've got rather than tossing away something good. Now where were we? Ah, it was ten-thirty and I think that was when I looked up from my work and saw there was nobody around, I thought maybe Zadik had cleared everyone out, I don't know. There was just this moment when nobody was there and I was talking on the phone, not really paying attention, and suddenly I raised my head and there was this guy, this burned man, standing in front of me. I almost screamed! Imagine this: first of all I see his hand, which he had placed on my desk. I didn't even hear his footsteps, I was on the phone. Alon, the security officer downstairs, told me he was on his way up, they told me the guy was on his way, but I didn't know what he looked like. The phone rang. You know how your people were snooping around the other day, how one of the policemen took a bunch of production files? You don't know about it? Whoa, Zadik hit the ceiling about it, threw him out. You didn't hear? Zadik went all the way up to the police commissioner about it. That was yesterday, what a ruckus! Zadik thought that you people were taking advantage of an opportunity to figure out who ratted on that police commander from the Northern District. Anyway, I was on the phone and suddenly that hand, which was sort of brownish red, was on the desk in front of me, like the hand of some Frankenstein from a horror movie. I can't stand that kind of movie because life itself is a kind of horror movie and I don't need to see it in the movie theater, too. Does that make sense to you? So I saw that hand and I almost screamed. But I didn't, I just looked at it. I hope he didn't notice, I don't feel very nice about it even though now it doesn't really matter if he noticed or not. What does it matter now? Just then Zadik opened the door to his office and looked the guy over—the black hat, the beard, the black overcoat, everything. Search me, I don't know anything about the man, but I can tell you this: he had a nice voice, like the voice of a radio announcer. He talked like we do, like a modern Israeli. Zadik ushered him into his office and told me he wouldn't be taking any calls, ‘until I come out and tell you so. Don't let anyone interrupt us.'”