He took a couple of rapid, deep drags, blowing the smoke toward the grinning skeleton, then examined the glowing tip of his smoke with a thoughtful expression before turning his eyes back on me.
"Would you agree, Mr. Lapid, that there are times when telling the whole, unvarnished truth is not only unwarranted but also cruel?"
There were such times, but I wasn't going to give him an inch until I knew more. "Go on," I said.
Leitner pulled on his cigarette again and said, "When I said that I had no complaints about Moria's work, I was not being entirely truthful. I did this because I assumed you'll be reporting what I said to Mr. Gafni." He paused, waiting for me to confirm it, but I gave no indication either way. He continued, "I felt that was the impression a grieving father should have of his dead daughter."
"And the truth is...?"
"The truth is that Moria was a good nurse. But on that occasion, and a handful of others, I had to rebuke her."
"What for?"
"For her work, naturally. I was her boss, you know."
"What about her work? Be specific."
Dr. Leitner took a final drag and mashed out his cigarette, even though it was nowhere near done. He steepled his fingers, eying me over them.
"One of our doctors complained about her. She had gotten too familiar with one of the families. The parents were running everything the doctor suggested by her, as if she knew more than him, and she did not refrain from telling them her opinion on the doctor's prescribed treatment. Even when the doctor instructed Moria to desist, she didn't."
"And you saw fit to rebuke her for it?"
"There's a delicate structure to a hospital, Mr. Lapid. When you disrupt this structure, things begin to fall apart. In this structure, doctors are set above nurses. They are the source of knowledge and authority. They know best. Nurses should obey doctors. Nurses should not contradict them before patients or their family members."
"Who's the doctor who complained about her?"
I thought Leitner would object to telling me, but he didn't hesitate. "His name was Kalman Shapira. I would gladly introduce you to him, but unfortunately, he's dead."
"I see," I said slowly, digesting this new bit of information. Here was a motive. A reason for Moria to seek vengeance on Dr. Shapira. Hardly the strongest motive for murder I'd encountered, but far from the flimsiest either. "Was this the only time in which Dr. Shapira and Moria were at odds?"
"I'm afraid not. It simply came to a head on that occasion, which is why I had to clarify to Moria the way things work here."
"You must have not minced words if she was driven to tears."
The accusation gave Leitner pause. He leaned forward, elbows on desk, fixing his eyes on mine. "I assure you, Mr. Lapid, that I spoke to Moria with the utmost tenderness and respect. As all women, she was simply emotional, that's all, which explains her sad ending. But now you understand why I thought it best for Mr. Gafni to not know of this episode. What good would it do him?"
None, I thought. Though I doubted Leitner had been as gentle as he claimed. He simply wanted Gafni to think that, in case I told him about it.
I wondered why Moria had not told either of her friends about this dressing-down in Leitner's office. Was it that hurtful? Or had she, even then, decided to avenge herself on Dr. Shapira and so wanted as few people to know about his complaint as possible?
I disliked thinking of Moria as a murderer. I wanted to discover an innocent reason for her keeping a hidden gun, for being secretive. I wanted her to be a victim, not a criminal. Maybe if Reuben came through and I read the police file, I'd discover Moria's gun could not have been the murder weapon. I hoped I would.
Leaving Dr. Leitner's office, submerged in thought, I bumped into Naomi Hecht. She staggered back from the impact, and I seized both her arms to steady her.
"Watch where you're going," she snapped, wrenching her arms free. She rubbed her nose, which had collided with my shoulder. Up close, she smelled of soap and chicory coffee and something medicinal yet pleasant. The bags under her eyes had darkened. Another bad night.
"Sorry," I said. "Are you all right?"
She lowered her hand and glared at me. "I'm fine. Don't you worry about me. Back to ask more questions?"
"That's right."
Her eyes flicked to the closed door behind me, and her brow creased. "You spoke to Dr. Leitner?"
"Yes."
"I trust you were suitably impressed."
I smiled. "How could I not be?"
"How indeed. Did the great doctor tell you something interesting?"
"As it so happens, he did." Doctors and nurses and visitors were moving along the corridor. I took Naomi Hecht by the arm and guided her to a small alcove where we would have more privacy. "He told me about the time about three weeks before Moria died when she came out of his office crying."
Naomi Hecht's eyes blazed. "I remember that day. I don't know what he said to her, but she wasn't the same all that day and the next."
"She didn't tell you anything about it?"
"Not one word. I was so angry, I was about to march into his office and tell him off, but Moria made me promise to keep my cool."
"She probably saved your job, didn't she?"
"Probably."
"Are you always this impulsive?"
She started shaking her head, then stopped and lowered her gaze. "Sometimes."
