"I'm not interested in most people, only in you."

"She's married," I said evasively, and there was a clear tinge of annoyance in my tone. "She has a husband."

"Yes," Greta deadpanned. "Married women tend to."

I let out an exasperated breath. "Is this really what we should be focusing on, Greta?"

But Greta would not be budged. "Why can't you simply admit it? Why can't you just say you like this woman?"

"Because she lied to me. And not just once, either. I don't like being lied to."

"Is that the only reason?"

I took a moment before answering. "No, it's not. There's something else. Something I've avoided thinking about, maybe because I didn't want to consider the implications. What it suggests about Naomi Hecht. It has to do with the suicide note. There's something odd about it. Something that's missing."

"What?"

"A name. It's missing a name. Think about it, Greta. Moria's suicide note is a message. A message intended for a particular person. The person she refers to in her note. She wrote it for that person to read. Then she left the note on her dining table and went off to kill herself. Do you see the problem?"

"I don't think so, no."

"How could Moria have been sure that the person she wrote the note for would actually get to read it? Maybe she was referring to her father; she could have guessed that the police would show him the note. But whatever drove them apart, it happened years ago, so wouldn't she have written his name just so he'd have no doubt whatsoever as to his responsibility for her death?"

Greta didn't answer, just nodded for me to continue.

"Since she omitted the name," I said, "it leaves just one possibility. She wrote the note for the person who would find her body. She knew who it would be. A woman she worked with. A woman who was on shift that day and would wonder why Moria didn't show up for work. A woman who had a key to Moria's apartment."

"Naomi Hecht," Greta mumbled, her mouth dropping open.

I nodded. "It almost didn't work. Moria left a window open in her living room, and the wind blew the note under the dining table. Naomi Hecht could have easily missed it. But she didn't. She read the note and knew what it meant. She knew fully."

And there it was. The unwelcome deduction my subconscious mind had supplied me during my long hours of feverish sleep. The one I should have come up with long before, but hadn't. Maybe because, on an internal level, I'd resisted it. Because I was attracted to Naomi Hecht.

"Are you sure about this, Adam?" Greta asked.

"I can't prove it, but do you see any other explanation?"

"What about Moria's lover, Arye Harpaz? Perhaps he also had a key?"

"Would you let a man you shouted at in the street to stay away from you keep a key to your apartment?"

"He might have refused to give it back."

"Then wouldn't Moria have changed her lock?"

"Not if she intended to kill herself soon after their quarrel and planned on him finding her body and note."

I shook my head. "I can't rule it out, but it's highly unlikely."

"Why?"

"There are two reasons. The first is that Lillian Shukrun, whom I told you about, was described to me as terribly nosy, constantly watchful. This isn't malicious gossip. When I visited that building again, she opened her door to see who was climbing the stairs. Moria died around midday. If Arye Harpaz found her body, there's every chance Lillian Shukrun would have seen him enter or leave. She would have told me about it."

"Maybe she was out," Greta said.

"Or taking a nap along with her baby," I agreed. "But it lowers the likelihood, all the same."

"And the second reason?"

"That has to do with timing. Naomi Hecht found Moria's body at three thirty, right after her shift ended. About three and a half hours after Moria died, according to the police report. It seems like a lot, but isn't really, when you take into account the suicide method. Dying from pills isn't instantaneous like shooting yourself in the head or jumping off a building. It can take quite a bit of time, even if you swallow a lot. You slip into a deep sleep and can remain that way for quite a while. Moria would have known this, as well as how long it would take Naomi Hecht to get to her apartment from the hospital. If she had arranged for Arye Harpaz to find her before Naomi Hecht did, she would be taking a big risk. What if he got delayed? Or came too early and found her still alive? Either way, it doesn't seem likely."

Greta spent a minute taking this all in. Then she nodded. "But why? What awful thing did Naomi Hecht do to Moria Gafni?"

"I don't know exactly, but I think it has something to do with Dr. Shapira's murder. Otherwise, why did Naomi Hecht lie to me about Moria working that night? She didn't want me to suspect Moria of the murder. So she showed me the shift log and didn't say that she and Moria had switched shifts, that she had worked that night in Moria's place. I think she knows Moria killed him. I think she knew beforehand. Based on the note, there's a good chance she put Moria up to it."

"Dear God," Greta whispered.

"It all fits. Moria killed herself due to guilt. She wrote the note for Naomi Hecht to find. She omitted her name just in case someone else found her body first."

"But why did she keep the gun?"

"I don't know."

"And why did Naomi Hecht leave the note at the scene?"

"It might not have been a conscious decision. She took the note with her to the bedroom and dropped it when she saw Moria dead. Maybe, in the emotional turmoil that followed, she simply forgot about it. Or maybe she figured the note couldn't hurt her. After all, her name wasn't mentioned in it."

Greta's eyes were saucers of horror. "Why would she do it? Naomi Hecht, I mean. Why would she want Dr. Shapira dead?"

"Apparently, Dr. Shapira was an unpleasant man to work with. He could be especially hard on the nurses. He'd made life difficult for Moria. Perhaps he did the same to Naomi Hecht."

"Why didn't she shoot him herself? Why have Moria do it?"

"I don't know. It's a good question."

"If you're right, Adam, she's absolutely evil."

"Yes, she is."

"You need to go to the police."

"And tell them what? That I found a gun hidden in Moria Gafni's apartment and didn't report it? And who do you think I'll need to speak with? Kulaski is the investigating officer. I'll have to explain it all to him. He'll either laugh in my face or try to pin the murder on me. I wouldn't put it past him." I shook my head. "No, I can't talk to the police."

"Then what are you planning to do?"

I kneaded the back of my neck. I was tired and aching and feeling the tragic weight of this case pushing down on my shoulders and back.

"I have no proof of Naomi Hecht's guilt. I'm going back to Jerusalem to find some. Maybe then I'll have enough to risk going to the police."