The Bar Mitzvah Murder (6 page)

10

It was an extraordinary day. The bus left from the King David Hotel, which is in downtown Jerusalem. Even the bus trip itself was exciting, the almost constant descent of the land until you pass the sign that says SEA LEVEL. And then you continue to descend.

Along the way in dry riverbeds the Bedouins camp, some of them with Mercedes-Benzes outside their tents and aerials erected to support TV usage. It was rather different from what I had expected.

The desert crept up on us. First the green foliage began to dwindle. Then it all but disappeared and the terrain became largely sand. Then came the hills and mountains, nearly all of them home to caves. I watched in amazement as we passed opening after opening in the mountains. Most of them were so high and the terrain so steep, it would take sophisticated equipment to scale the surface. Having just seen the Dead Sea Scrolls, I wondered what other treasures, perhaps thousands of them, might be hidden in those caves. It was quite a fantasy.

The previous evening Jack had told me that the autopsy on Gabriel Gross had been completed. There was, apparently, only one place in Israel where autopsies were conducted, in Abu Kabir near the city of Jaffa, which is across the country on the Mediterranean Sea. Joshua Davidson had heard the results and come to Jack's office to talk to him about them.

Gabe had been pushed or had fallen so that there was a bloody mark on one side of his face, hence the blood Mel had noticed on Gabe's shirt. But more important, a drug had been injected in his arm and that accounted for his being unconscious. It also accounted for the slowed pulse rate and faint heartbeat Lenny had observed. From this information Jack and Joshua decided that the initial assault had not been meant to be deadly.

“You think they just wanted to knock him out so they could get him in the fake ambulance and take him somewhere?” I had asked Jack.

“That's the way it looks. Maybe they were planning to ask for a ransom.”

“Then why didn't they?”

“Beats me. There sure wasn't any publicity about the event that might slow them down. It didn't hit the papers till he was found dead.”

“So maybe it wasn't a ransom,” I said. “What was the cause of death?”

“They beat him pretty bad.”

“How awful.”

“Who knows? Maybe they wanted the key to his hotel room so they could go in and steal his wife's jewelry.”

“Wouldn't they be smart enough to put that in a safe, Jack?”

“Seems to me they would. Think about it. Maybe you'll come up with something.”

So I thought about it as the bus made its way to Masada. On our left I could now see the Dead Sea, while the desert stretched off on the right. There was little traffic and it was a straight road. Finally, looking exactly like the pictures I'd seen, Masada rose from the sand, an impressive piece of rock with a flat top.

We got off the bus and took a cable car to the top, where we began our guided tour. Although the air was pleasantly warm, I felt a chill as I heard the description of the men, women, and children who heroically held out against the huge Roman army, how, in the end, they took their own lives to avoid being captured by the enemy. The tour was a moving experience.

Afterward, the bus took us to the place on the Dead Sea where we could swim. I had lunch by myself, choosing not to share conversation after the tour of Masada. The lunch was made just for me, a salad buffet with Middle Eastern food, including hummus, which was rapidly becoming my staple.

From there I found the lockers, changed into my bathing suit and the rubber slippers my mother-in-law insisted I wear, and walked down toward the beach. About a third of the way there, I found the mud barrels. There were also showers to clean it off and mirrors so that you could see yourself covered in black. The barrels of mud were huge, and I watched a couple of young men in their twenties scoop out handfuls of the black stuff and slather it on their bodies and faces so that in a few minutes I could not have told what color their skin was originally. When a spot was not covered, they would help each other. Finally, they took a good look at themselves in the full-length mirrors, waited a few minutes, and then stood under one of the many shower-heads and let it all wash off.

Just so that I could say I had done it, I took a handful myself and rubbed it on my legs, thinking how much Eddie must have enjoyed this experience yesterday. When I was wet and clean I saw the little shuttle heading toward the sea, and I hopped on when it stopped.

The sea was amazing. At the shore, formations of salt grew at the edge of the sandy beach, beautiful white glassy growths that were hard as rocks. I walked gingerly on a wooden dock leading into the sea and let myself down at the water. I was immediately glad I had worn the bathing shoes. I could feel the rocky bottom and knew my feet would be torn to shreds without protection. Carefully I made my way out to where people were bobbing in the water and finally lay back and floated with the others. It was something I will never forget, lying on the water and bouncing gently.

And that was my day, full of history, new sites, and unusual experiences. When I got back to the hotel I showered in fresh water and then dressed for dinner. There was nothing new in the Gabriel Gross case. His body had been released by the authorities and Marnie was preparing to take him home for burial. For the family members who were not yet returning to the States she would have a memorial service in a few weeks. Before leaving, she sat down with a police artist and had him draw the attendant she remembered from the fake ambulance. Jack gave me a copy of the sketch in case I had to show it to someone. Marnie had tried looking at photos but got nowhere.

“And none of the cops that looked at the drawing thought they recognized it,” Jack said.

“Did Gabe have business in Israel?” I asked.

“I think they're looking into it. His name certainly hasn't come up in the database I'm working on. They've made some inquiries at Interpol, too. And got nowhere.”

“Someone should read his will,” I said.

“You still think it's the daughter?”

“I don't really think it's the daughter. I just think when a very wealthy man is murdered, you have to look at who benefits. I think I learned that from a police sergeant I once knew.”

“Who's gotten old and cocky and turned into a lieutenant.”

“That's the one.” I gave him a hug.

“Lots of people benefit from his death, all the ones you'd expect. His children, his ex-wife to some extent from what we've been told, his current wife, and more charities than you can count. But all of those have been benefiting regularly by having him alive. His current wife has the use of several homes; she travels and stays in the best places; she owns what I'm told is fabulous jewelry and furs. She drives a couple of great cars. No motive there.”

“Unless she has her eye on another guy.”

“Well, that's always a possibility.”

“What about the ex?”

“Nobody knows the details, but she has the house they lived in and there was a settlement in seven figures. At least that's what some of the cousins say.”

“Maybe she went through it, Jack. Not everyone counts pennies.”

“The way my wife does. True. Ex-wives have been known to spend a lot.”

“Was Gabe at Judy's wedding?”

“That came up, yeah. He was there. Someone in the new family said she didn't really want him, but he was footing the bill, so she accepted it.”

“Was Marnie there?”

“Don't know. It might be in the file.”

“Did a relative write the will for him?”

“Good question, and the answer is no. He went to an outsider, someone who's not here now.”

“Interesting. He didn't want his will leaked to the family.”

“Can you blame him? Who needs that kind of thing making the gossip rounds?”

I agreed with him. This was a family that stuck together and very likely talked among themselves. “I don't know how I'm going to be able to contribute to this case,” I said. “It's clear this was a very sophisticated operation, and no one seems to have any idea of a motive. Of the forty people that flew over, I've only talked to Mel and Marnie, and they don't seem to have a clue why this happened.”

“And I've gone through the computer here. And Joshua has done his own canvassing. Something'll turn up. It always does. And by the way.”

“What?”

“I've talked to the guy I report to. Since we don't observe the Jewish sabbath and we do observe our sabbath, they're going to let me take off Friday afternoon, Saturday, and Sunday as well.”

“That's great, Jack. We'll be able to go somewhere.”

“But I have to make up the Sundays with extra days at the end. They're really concerned that this could be too big a job for two weeks, and I agree with them.”

“Fine. But it gives us two weekends.”

“Right. Want to pull out a map and see where we want to go?”

I pulled out not only a map but also a book I had looked at in some detail before leaving the States. The Sea of Galilee was in the northern part of the country, slightly east of Jerusalem, and we could drive around the whole perimeter in a day while stopping at various places of interest. Jack agreed that would be a good thing to do. We could leave on Friday afternoon and come back on Sunday after mass and breakfast. In the afternoon, if there was any time left, I could take him to some of the shops Mel and I had visited. It would seem strange being in a large city that considered Sunday an ordinary business day, but those were the advantages of travel. Things were different.

We discussed whether we should borrow back our son and take him with us, but Jack decided we shouldn't. We had promised his parents two solid weeks of their grandson, and it wouldn't be fair to renege. This was his vacation with Grandma and Grandpa and we had been seeing him daily, more, I thought, so he wouldn't forget that we existed than to check up on his care, which was about as good as any child could get.

11

I stayed up that night packing our one small suitcase, looking at maps, and deciding where we would stay overnight. On Friday morning, I made a hotel reservation for two nights. I was very excited about our little trip, glad we would have a couple of days together, and thrilled that I would see places of great interest to me.

When we finished breakfast, I dropped Jack off, went directly to Mel's hotel, and called Lenny's room from the downstairs phone. No one answered, so I looked in on the breakfast crowd and saw him at a table with a woman I assumed to be his wife. As I made my way through the restaurant, he saw me and stood to greet me.

“Chris, this is my wife, Sharon. Come and join us for breakfast.”

“Just a cup of coffee, thanks.”

“I suppose you've heard everything we've heard.”

“About the autopsy?”

“Yes. And Marnie is going home now that Gabe's body has been released.”

“Nobody seems to have a clue why this happened,” I said.

“This is a terrible business. The cousins and I have been talking about it non-stop. No one can figure it out.”

“Lenny, your family is very close. I've known Mel for six or seven years now and I've met her parents and Hal's parents and once in a while someone in the family comes to visit or they go to visit a cousin. Gabe brought all of you here and put you up at a fabulous hotel because he loved all of you. Is someone in this group here under false pretenses?”

I watched him exchange a glance with his wife. “If there is, I don't know about it.”

“You're right that it's a close-knit family, Chris,” Sharon said. “When Lenny and I were first married, I thought he had a million cousins, because he was always talking about one or another, making plans for us to have dinner with them or visit them. If someone told me that one of these people murdered Gabe, I wouldn't be able to pick the killer.”

“Did anyone ever borrow money from him?”

“I wouldn't know.”

“It wouldn't matter,” Lenny said. “Gabe helped people. It wasn't a question of lending money that he had to have back. He could afford not to be paid back. I don't think he'd make an issue of forcing a repayment. That said, I never heard of a loan in the family.”

“This isn't about money,” Sharon said firmly.

“What do you think it's about?”

“I wish I knew. It's too big to be about money. A lot of people were involved. A truck painted to look like an ambulance. It makes me dizzy thinking of all the planning that went into this murder.”

It made me dizzy, too. “You know Gabe's daughter, Judy, left the country and hasn't been heard from.”

“I know.” Lenny took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “Judy didn't do this. I'm sure of it.”

Obviously, I wasn't getting anywhere. “When Gabe and his first wife split up, did Gabe have a girlfriend?”

“I don't think so. Not at that time anyway.”

“Then why were his children so angry at him? Why did they both side with the mother?”

“It's what kids do. Gabe and Debby hadn't been getting along for a couple of years. The impression I got is that they both wanted out. But it turned into a battle. Debby wanted more; Gabe didn't want to give more. He gave her plenty; I can tell you that.”

“I hear Gabe's will was done by someone outside the family.”

“That's what I heard. Do we have lawyers among the cousins? Sure we do. But one's a real estate lawyer; one's a constitutional lawyer. No one does estate law, except maybe in a very simple case. I wouldn't make much of that. Would you go to a doctor because he was your cousin?”

“I don't know. My only cousin, Gene, is retarded and would never become a doctor or a lawyer.”

“A lot of people
don't
go to doctors in the family. And probably it's the same with lawyers. I didn't use a cousin for my will.”

“OK.” He had made his point. Perhaps I was carrying the idea of family too far. “Do you have any knowledge of what will happen to Gabe's assets? Like the business?”

“I know he wanted his son to work in the business, but there was that bad blood. He offered Judy a job, too, but I don't think she ever took it. That doesn't mean he didn't leave them a big interest in the business. I just don't know. This will all come out eventually.”

I wasn't sure whether he really didn't know the details or he was just trying to put me off, but I wasn't learning anything from the discussion. “OK,” I said, giving up. If Lenny knew anything, he wasn't going to tell me. I went through my usual end-of-an-interview patter, where he could reach me if he thought of anything. “How long are you both staying?” I said finally.

“We're leaving Sunday,” Sharon said. “Those were our original plans.”

“Have a good trip home. I hope we meet someday in happier circumstances.”

They echoed my good wishes and I got up to go. I had the list of guests in my purse, but they were all strangers to me except for Lenny. I didn't have to pick up Jack for a few hours, so I thought I might as well talk to whoever happened to be around, not that I thought I would get any more out of the others than I had out of Lenny and Sharon.

I found a house phone and asked for the first person on the list, a woman named Barbara Abramawitz. There was no answer. I went to the next name, Susan Greene. This time a woman answered.

“Mrs. Greene, I'm a friend of Hal and Melanie Gross.”

“Yes. Is anything wrong?”

“Everything's fine. I wondered if I could talk to you for a minute.”

“Sure. Mind if I meet you downstairs? They haven't made our room up yet.”

I told her where I'd be and went to wait for her. She came down about five minutes later, a forty-ish woman with a few extra pounds, wearing dark gray pants and a matching shirt and carrying a black sweater.

“Mrs. Greene?” I said.

“Yes. Hi. Why don't we sit over there? My husband's out for his morning walk and I'll be able to see him when he comes in.”

We walked over to an arrangement of couches and comfortable chairs and sat.

“Mel mentioned you the other day when I saw her. You're trying to figure out what happened to Gabe.”

“And not getting very far.”

“Well, the police haven't done very well.” She sounded annoyed. “It took them twenty-four hours to take us seriously.”

“I know. How are you related to Gabe Gross?”

“I'm his cousin on his mother's side. I'm not a Gross. I'm a Morrison. That's his mother's maiden name.”

“Did you know Gabe's first wife?”

“Sure. We all did. We went to the wedding. I was just a kid, but I remember it.”

“I'm told there's a lot of anger in that relationship.”

“What else? That's what happens when people divorce. And Gabe got married again. Debby hasn't.”

“The children sided with her.”

“She brought them up. What do you expect? My children would side with me, too. Not that anything like that is going to happen,” she added.

“It seems to me that someone who was invited to the Bar Mitzvah must have killed him or arranged for the killing,” I said.

“What—one of my cousins? You're crazy. Is that what Mel thinks?”

I stopped her before she could launch into a tirade. “No, Mel and I haven't really talked about that. What I meant was, this was a carefully planned murder. Whoever did it knew Gabe would be here, knew he would be at that particular hotel on Sunday afternoon, and made elaborate plans to kidnap him.”

“Doesn't mean it's a relative.” She spoke with great certainty. “It just means it was someone who knew where he'd be. Lots of people knew. You think he sat down at the phone and made the arrangements himself? Of course not. His secretary took care of that. Talk to her. She knew every step of his itinerary. Maybe she gave the information to someone. Maybe she sold it.” She nodded her head once, indicating she had hit on something important.

“That's possible,” I agreed. “And I assume the police in one place or another will follow up on that. I just thought maybe there was some problem in the family, someone who didn't get along with Gabe. Maybe a person who was angry enough to do this.”

“Gabe wouldn't have invited anyone he didn't love and trust completely. And you know who you're talking about? My brothers and sisters and cousins and aunts, people I trust with my life. You're off base here. You can put every guest through the wringer, you won't find a killer. Ah, there's my husband.” That was the end of the interview.

I decided to give up on the guests. Probably I would find very few of them in the hotel by this time of morning and those I did find would represent a point of view similar to Susan's. These were all relatives by blood or marriage and she was right: if there was bad blood, they wouldn't have been invited. I would have to figure out some other way of gathering information or let the police do the job.