Arnon Cinema proved my refuge. I watched Judy Holliday fall in love with William Holden in Born Yesterday and pondered the unpredictable, strange nature of love.
It was five when I ventured out of the cinema and into twilight. I had coffee and a sandwich at a small place on a side street, and at six o'clock I rang Leitner's number.
His smug voice came over the line, and I hung up.
I took a bus south to Rehavia, one of Jerusalem's more affluent neighborhoods, where the streets were clean, the buildings sturdy and neat, and the passersby dressed in clothes that were still in fashion. There were more private cars around, too.
On Azza street, I entered a three-story building and climbed to the second floor. A sign affixed to the door confirmed that I'd arrived at the residence of Dr. Yosef Leitner. I knocked and waited, simmering over what Ruslander had told me, telling myself to keep calm. For now, at least.
Dr. Leitner answered the door. He was in dark slacks, a white shirt, and a tie tucked into a vest, like a businessman at the office. But incongruously, his feet were in slippers. They were blue and looked warm and soft. He eyed me with those hard pebble eyes, and his lips were pressed into a bloodless, gray line.
"Hello, Doctor," I said.
"Mr. Lapid, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I have a few more questions to ask you, if you don't mind."
"Of course not, but I'd much prefer if we met at the hospital. Why not come over first thing tomorrow morning?"
"I wish it could wait, Doctor, but the matter is of some urgency. I'd appreciate it greatly if you could spare a few minutes now. My client would too."
The reference to Gafni proved irresistible, as I hoped it would. Leitner wanted to remain on good terms with my client in the hope of extracting more donations from him.
"All right, Mr. Lapid. But I don't have much time. Dinner will soon be ready."
"This won't take long," I said, and with a twist of the mouth, he gestured me inside.
The living room was spacious and well-appointed. A piano stood against one wall. A few expensive glass lamps were arranged about the room. On the large dining table, a couple of bouquets of radiant flowers soaked in vases, and next to them stood a bottle of wine with a bow around its neck.
"What's the occasion?" I asked.
Leitner puffed his scrawny chest. "They're for me. It was announced this morning that I will be the next head physician of Ariel Hospital."
"Congratulations. When do you assume your new post?"
"In three months."
Atop the piano stood photos of Dr. Leitner alongside a plump, gray-haired woman and a boy of Bar Mitzvah age who not only bore a striking resemblance to his father, but also appeared to share his imperious stare.
"I'm sure your family is proud of you," I said.
A door to my right swung open, letting in the enticing scent of vegetable stew. In the doorway, wearing a red apron and an expression of surprise, stood the woman from the photos. Mrs. Leitner.
"Oh." She moved her gaze from me to Leitner. Her demeanor and tone seemed more appropriate to a housekeeper than a wife. "I didn't know you were expecting company, Yosef. Will your guest be staying for dinner?"
Leitner shook his head. "No, Ada. Mr. Lapid will only be here for a few minutes." And to me: "Mr. Lapid, let's continue our conversation in my study."
I nodded at Mrs. Leitner and followed her husband to a small room at the far end of the apartment. Leitner shut the door after us.
The study housed two chairs, a desk, and shelves crowded with books. A glass ashtray heaped with dead cigarettes stood next to a used tulip glass and a fat bottle of what appeared to be expensive cognac. The windows were shut. The sweet, woody aroma of the beverage mingled unpleasantly with that of the cigarettes, each unable to escape the other. There were no pictures of his family.
Leitner looked discomfited by my seeing the cognac. He waved a begrudging hand at the bottle. "Would you care for some?"
"No. Nothing for me."
"As you please," Leitner said, looking relieved as he lowered himself into his chair. "Now, what would you like to ask me?"
I sat in the chair before his desk but didn't speak, just riveted my eyes to his, keeping my face impassive.
Leitner shifted in his seat. "Well? Aren't you going to say something?"
I remained silent. I could see it was getting to him. Leitner wet his lips. He drew out a cigarette and soon had it burning. After a bracing drag, he said, "Listen, I don't know what game—"
I cut him off. "I met a friend of yours today."
Leitner blinked. "Oh? And who might that be?"
"A fellow by the name of Ruslander. Remember him?"
Leitner had just pulled on his cigarette. Shocked by my revelation, he choked on the smoke. He started coughing, face turning red, eyes tearing. I made no move to help him.
"Yeah, I can tell that you do. He sends his apologies, by the way; he won't be reporting on my movements any longer."
Leitner coughed one last time, then hissed out a curse. "That incompetent fool. What did he tell you?"
"A whole bunch of interesting things. He and I had a nice long chat. One of the things he told me is that you hired him. He didn't know why."
"It was for the sake of the hospital," Leitner said quickly, grabbing hold of the first lie that flitted across his mind. "I was worried your investigation might cast the hospital in a bad light. I wanted to be forewarned of any adverse development."
