"Why did none of them last?"
Naomi Hecht considered the question and answered slowly, "She had the bad luck of attracting unworthy men, I think."
"Do you remember any of their names?"
"No, I don't. I'm not sure I ever knew them."
A dead end. I said, "How did Moria react to Dr. Shapira's death?"
"Dr. Shapira? How do you—oh, of course, Paula again."
"Well?"
"How did she react? The same as the rest of us. It was a shock."
"What was their relationship like?"
She arched an eyebrow. "You think they were lovers?"
"You don't?"
She smiled her tiny, short-lived smile again. "No. Not a chance."
"Did Moria like him?"
"No, she didn't."
"Oh?" I said, thinking of the gun. "Why not?"
"She didn't appreciate his skills as a doctor."
"Was she as diplomatic as you when it came to criticizing doctors?"
It took her a second before she remembered what I was referring to. Another fleeting smile. "Much more so. Moria was better at keeping her thoughts to herself."
A woman of secrets, I thought.
"What did you think of Dr. Shapira?"
"That he was an arrogant fool. But that's nothing special. Many doctors are."
Now it was my turn to smile. "What did Dr. Shapira look like?"
"What does it matter?"
"A neighbor saw Moria's lover exit her building. I'm wondering if Dr. Shapira fits her description."
Naomi Hecht frowned. "Wouldn't it be easier to show her a picture of him? There's one in the hospital, I think."
I explained that the neighbor had seen the lover from the back, in the dark, so all I had were an approximate height and build and hair color.
"Ah, I understand," Naomi Hecht said. "Well, that's easy enough. Dr. Shapira was thin and about five eleven, six feet tall. He had black hair. Does that fit?"
"Pretty closely. You still don't think there was anything between him and Moria?"
She shook her head. "They were just two people who worked together. Nothing more."
Which was similar to what Paula had said, though Naomi Hecht had exhibited no outrage at the suggestion of romance between Moria and Dr. Shapira but found the notion amusing.
Perhaps both women were right. Maybe I was trying to force a connection where none existed.
Time for a change of subject.
"Did Moria know any unsavory people?" I asked.
"Unsavory? What does that mean?"
I searched for the right word, failed to find it, and finally settled on, "Suspicious."
Naomi Hecht narrowed her eyes, two faint lines etched between her eyebrows. "What are you getting at, Mr. Lapid?"
The gun. I was trying to understand the presence of the gun. It didn't fit. But I didn't want to ask about it directly.
"It's the note," I said. "Did you read it?"
Her face darkened. "Yes, I read it."
"What do you make of it?"
