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"And she left your office in tears?"

"I offered her my handkerchief, but she wouldn't take it," Leitner said with a slight shake of his head, sharing his bewilderment at the illogical nature of women.

I could imagine the scene. Moria caught between Leitner's rock and her father's hard place. Forced to pick one of two unbearable options. Either her own well-being or that of her lover, Naomi Hecht. No wonder she had cried.

"Did Dr. Shapira really complain about her, or was that something you invented on the spot?" I asked.

"It happened. More than once. Most of what I told you was true, only it didn't happen on that day."

Like all good liars, Dr. Leitner had based his prevarications in truth. And I had believed him.

"Dr. Shapira got quite angry with Moria a few times," Leitner said. "And I did rebuke her for undermining his authority with patients."

Which meant that Moria did have motive to kill Dr. Shapira. That hadn't changed. Nor had the fact that she'd had the probable murder weapon in her possession. She was still a murderer, but that didn't change what Leitner had put her through.

"Moria didn't meet with her father, did she?" I said.

Leitner contorted his face. "She kept putting it off. I inquired about it, and she always had an excuse. Either she didn't feel well, or her father was away on a business trip, or his schedule was packed, and so on. Finally, my patience ran out, and I told her she had one week to do it. No more excuses."

"When was this?"

Leitner picked up the cognac bottle and poured himself another glass. "A few days before she killed herself." And he took a drink.

I stared at him. He drank again, oblivious to my right hand, which had slid into my pocket and closed around the grip of Moria's pistol. This was why she had kept the gun, I thought. To one day kill this filthy blackmailer, this selfish fiend. It would have been a justified killing. One I could do in her place, right here and now.

"Have you ever considered the possibility that she killed herself because of you?" I asked. "Because you demanded too much of her?"

Leitner's eyes bulged. "Too much? What was too much? To meet with her father?"

"You don't know anything about what he did to her. Why she wouldn't see him."

"I don't care why," Leitner exploded. "You think my father was easy? He was the rottenest bastard who ever lived. But if I had to see him to get something done, I would've done so without feeling sorry for myself. Moria was just a spoiled girl. A whiny brat, and depraved to boot. She didn't kill herself because of me. She killed herself because she was weak and pathetic and not right in the head."

I was on my feet without realizing it. My hand outstretched with the gun pointed at his head. Leitner reared back as far as his chair allowed, his mouth gaping.

For a long moment, neither of us moved nor spoke. Then Leitner said, "Careful with that gun, Mr. Lapid."

"Where are those pictures? And the negatives too. Give them to me now."

"And if I won't?"

"Then I use this," I said, moving the gun a little closer to him.

"You're going to shoot me with my wife in the apartment? I don't think so. Not unless you plan to kill her too, and she has nothing to do with any of this." He smiled, reading the answer on my face. "No. You don't have it in you."

I lowered the gun, the blood rushing past my ears like water from a busted dam. "I'll tell Gafni what you did to Moria. He'll make sure you lose your appointment."

"He wouldn't dare. If he interferes, I'll spread those pictures far and wide. Everyone will know what sort of woman his daughter was. It will be embarrassing for him, not to mention what it will do to her name."

"He'll go to the police. You'll be arrested for blackmail."

He laughed. "There's no proof of that. Moria is dead, and I don't think she told anyone about our arrangement. Surely not her big-mouthed lover, or I would have heard about it by now. You know, but I can always say that you're lying. I'll never be charged with anything."

He was right. The police couldn't touch him. And I suspected Gafni would choose to protect his name, and Moria's, and wouldn't take any action against him.

"He might send someone to kill you," I said. "Or I'll do it. You won't be able to hide behind your wife forever."

Leitner didn't so much as flinch from the threat. "If I die, those pictures go public. I've set it all up, Mr. Lapid. I'm no fool."

I racked my brain, trying to produce another threat or argument, but I came up empty.

Leitner smiled again, a pink patch of tongue showing between his teeth. "You can do nothing to me, and neither can your client. I'm untouchable. Inviolate. I'd have preferred to remain on Mr. Gafni's good side—I hoped he'd be open to make further donations to commemorate his daughter, but now your meddling has killed that prospect—but since I already got the appointment, it's not so important."

"Where are those pictures?" I asked him, grinding my teeth in defeat and frustration. "Where are they?" I shouted.

"In a safe place, where you can never find them."

"I'll tear this whole room apart if you don't tell me."

"Then my wife will call the police, and I'll see to it that you go away for a long time. Mr. Gafni isn't the only man who knows people. Besides, the pictures aren't here."

I was breathing hard, my face hot. "There are things I can do to make you talk. I don't have to kill you."

Leitner sneered. "You're not the only one who can make threats, Mr. Lapid, and I'm in a better position than you to follow through on them. Nothing bad will happen to anyone I care about if something bad happens to you. But you care about Moria, don't you?" He leaned forward, examining my face with glittering eyes, and huffed out a laugh. "You do, I can see it. And maybe even about Naomi. Though, heaven help me, I cannot see why. The first was a depraved woman, the second that and worse because she also betrayed her husband. I thought of firing her for a long time, but I ended up doing it because of you. You sticking your nose where it didn't belong and making trouble. It felt good to finally be rid of her."

Before I knew it, my hand was up, the gun pointing again at Leitner's head, my finger putting pressure on the trigger. If he hadn't raised his hands, if he hadn't looked so scared, I think I would have shot him; I was mindless with rage. He must have seen it on my face. He must have known he was a heartbeat from death.

"Listen to me," I said, my voice low and vibrating, as I sought to control my fury. "I'm giving you until tomorrow at noon to hand over those pictures and negatives. I'll be waiting for you at Zion Square, just outside the cinema. If you don't show up, I'll be back. You got that?"

Are sens

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