"I'm here." His voice was lower, dead serious. "What do you need to know?"
"How she died, for one thing."
"She committed suicide."
"Yes, I know that. I'm wondering why you didn't bother telling me this, considering that you were just about sure I was going to investigate Gafni's daughter's death, and that she committed suicide as well."
"It wasn't my place. I assumed Gafni would tell you."
"Well, he didn't. I'm trying to figure out why. Do you know?"
"No, I don't." Now Birnbaum sounded just a little bit curious. His natural nosiness coming to life, perhaps against his will.
"What was her name?"
"Vera."
"How did she kill herself?"
"If I recall correctly, she slashed her wrists."
"I understand her daughter was the one who found her."
"It's possible. I don't remember. I'm not sure I ever knew."
"The story didn't make the papers?"
"It did, but I didn't write it, and we usually don't go into detail in such matters out of respect for the family."
"I'm sure Gafni appreciated it. He wouldn't want his reputation to suffer. It might be bad for business." I was getting angry now, my voice getting louder, my face turning hot. "Why did she do it?"
"I don't know."
"Was there a note?"
"I don't know, Adam."
"Did she kill herself because of her husband? And don't tell me you don't know, Shmuel. There must have been rumors, and I know you hear all of them."
A pause. A low exhalation. "There were some rumors, yes."
"What?"
Another pause. The background noises diminished a little, and I guessed Birnbaum had picked up the phone and moved as far away from his colleagues as its cord would allow. When next he spoke, his voice was low and cautious. "Word at the time was that Vera Gafni took her own life due to her husband's infidelity. Apparently, he was quite the womanizer."
"What about prostitutes? Were there rumors about that?"
"I don't know anything about prostitutes."
But I did. I knew about one. I gritted my teeth as the memory of Gafni emerging from Sima Vaaknin's building played in my mind.
"Did Moria know about this? Did she know why her mother killed herself?"
"I have no idea."
"Is that the truth, Shmuel? Is that the truth, or are you lying to me to cover up for your friend?" I was shouting now, shouting into the phone, and a couple passing by on the street were gawking at me. "What?" I barked at them. "What do you want?" The woman yanked the man away, looking terrified.
"Are you okay, Adam?" Birnbaum said. "Is everything all right?"
Of course it wasn't. Nothing was all right. Because a dissolute, greedy rich man was sitting in Tel Aviv on his hoard of gold and silver, already planning how to use the money Germany would be giving Israel as reparations for the six million to advance his businesses. And this man had likely driven his wife to suicide and maybe had done the same to his daughter. And no one cared. No one did anything. He had paid no price and was not going to. He had won, and I had lost. Israel would negotiate with Germany. Gafni would get his share of the take, and I would be left with this hole in my heart, this sense of wrongness, of gaping detachment from the country I'd fought and bled for. And meanwhile Gafni would live large while his wife and daughter lay dead, just like my wife and daughters.
"Adam? Are you still there, Adam?"
I shut my eyes against the sudden wetness in them. Filled my lungs with cold Jerusalem air and let it leak out of me slowly, along with the sharp edge of my fury. My fingers were aching due to how hard I was gripping the phone. I forced them loose, and it was like being freed from tight tethers, my fingertips prickling.
"Yeah," I said, suddenly weary as though I'd walked all day with no food in me. "Yeah, I'm here."
Birnbaum's tone was tender and caring. "Adam, you meshuggeneh, what is happening to you?"
I opened my eyes, wiped the back of my hand across them. I looked around, but no one seemed to have noticed my turmoil. Or perhaps everyone had and was pretending to not see me, to ignore my existence. "Answer my question, Shmuel."
He sighed and said, "I'm not protecting Baruch Gafni. Contrary to what you believe, he's not my friend. I don't even like him. But I deal with all sorts of people as part of my job, just as you do. Baruch Gafni is one of them. I don't know what Moria Gafni knew about her father's extramarital activities. I don't know for sure why Vera Gafni killed herself. But I do know one thing you should keep in mind. Are you listening, Adam?"
"Yeah, I'm listening."
"Good. Because you need to know that Baruch Gafni is not a man you want as an enemy. He's powerful and connected and can be quite vindictive. And he's the reason why you're not sitting in a jail cell right now. Get on his bad side, and he won't hesitate to withdraw the protection he's granted you."
I thought of Inspector Kulaski straining at the leash like a slavering dog at the sight of raw meat—only the meat was me. A blade of fear dug sharply into my stomach and up into my chest. I knew what fate Kulaski had ordained for me. Gafni's protection was all that stood in his way.
