"Then how do you plan on dealing with him?"
"I don't know, Greta. I just don't know."
She pondered this for a long moment but came up with no answers. "Anything else you need to tell me?"
"Not much. Just how I got back from Jerusalem." I refrained from telling her about the ordeal the trip proved to be, but I did tell her about discovering my hotel room had been ransacked, and also about Dr. Leitner firing Naomi Hecht. "It happened soon after I spoke with him, but I can't see any connection."
Greta studied my face, and a faint smile quirked her lips. "You like her, don't you?"
"Who?"
"Naomi Hecht. You like her."
"I hardly know her, Greta."
"As if that's a requirement to liking someone. Is she attractive?"
"Most people wouldn't say so, I think."
"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?"
