Daniel hesitated, looking thoughtful. "You can't prove any of this, can you, Adam?"
"You're right; I can't. But the police probably could. If they had a reason to suspect you, they'd start digging into your life. They'll learn you didn't work the night Dr. Shapira was killed. Maybe they'll find someone who remembers seeing you following him some night. Maybe they'll find the guy who sold you the gun. The police can do things I can't. But they might not have to go to all the trouble. They can bring you in for questioning. They can lean on you hard. I'm not sure you'd be able to handle a forceful interrogation."
Daniel's throat worked. Fear dominated his face, but soon it was supplanted by anger. "He deserved to die, Adam. He killed my boy. For a little prestige, he lied about his surgery and killed him."
Lillian had told me this already. She had been angry too. She had even expressed joy that Dr. Shapira was dead, and then was embarrassed to have done so. I thought of Lillian, who had saved my life. I thought of her daughter, Dina. I thought of their son, dead because Dr. Shapira viewed him not as a boy in need of healing, but as a means to further his professional standing.
I couldn't blame Daniel for killing him. In his place, I might have done the same. I wouldn't have hidden the gun in Moria Gafni's apartment; that was cowardly and wrong. But the right punishment for that sin was not a murder conviction.
"Please don't go to the police, Adam. Give me a few days, and I'll turn myself in."
"What would a few days get you?"
"I need to do something first."
"What?"
He didn't answer, but I thought I understood. "Why did you keep the gun?" I asked again.
"What does it matter now?" His tone was dejected, empty of hope.
"Just answer the question, Daniel."
"Because I had another use for it."
"Who?"
"Dr. Leitner. I was going to kill him too."
That was the answer I'd expected. I looked at Daniel, this big hulk of a man with coarse features and an ocean of sadness in his heart. I knew how he felt. I'd lost children too, and I'd taken revenge, but that revenge hadn't been complete. It couldn't be. But Daniel's revenge could. It might cost him everything, but he needed to carry it out just the same. He would die a slow death on the inside if he didn't.
The decision made itself for me. I still had the gun in my hand. His gun. I ejected the magazine, took out my handkerchief, and wiped the weapon and magazine clean. I did the same with the two extra magazines. Then I placed them all on the counter.
Daniel looked at me in puzzlement.
"I don't know about Dr. Shapira," I said, "but Dr. Leitner certainly deserves to die. Not just because of how he treated you, but also because of something awful he did to Moria. Something I can't tell you about. I'd kill him myself, but I think you want to do it, don't you?"
His jaw tensed. A feverish light sparked in his eyes. "More than anything."
"I can't give you a few days, Daniel. I can't even give you one. Dr. Leitner will be alone at home this evening until nine o'clock. He has to die today. Don't ask me why; just accept it. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"There's a chance you'll get caught, or worse," I said, and suddenly thought of what either of those outcomes would mean for Lillian and their daughter.
"I know."
"How will your family manage if that happens?"
"My extended family will help. And Lillian will understand why I had to do it."
He sounded completely sure of it, and I didn't argue. In some ways, Daniel Shukrun was already lost to his wife and daughter, even if they weren't aware of it yet. I felt like screaming at him that he still had much to live and be free for, that he hadn't lost everything, but I didn't think it would make any difference to him. "If you do get caught," I said, "and you say anything about me, I'll deny it. Is that clear?"
"I won't breathe a word about you, Adam. I swear it on my son."
I looked at him. He was standing erect, his back rigid and straight, his meaty hands lumped into fists. His expression was one of unmitigated determination. Like a soldier about to go into a crucial battle, ready to give his life for the worthiest of causes.
A wave of relief and shame came over me. Relief that the killing of Dr. Leitner would not fall to me. Shame that I was sending Daniel in my place.
As if reading my mind, Daniel's rough lips turned at the corners. "Don't feel bad, Adam. I want to do this. I need to. I'm grateful you're giving me the chance. I want that bastard to know he's going to die because of what happened to my son."
"I won't turn you in if you don't do it," I said. "You can just walk away."
"I can't," he said, and I could tell by his voice that it was true.
"And you're sure you'll do it today? I need to know. If you can't, I'll do it instead."
I half hoped he'd take me up on my offer because I was suddenly gripped by a terrible premonition that Daniel Shukrun was heading toward disaster.
Daniel's expression didn't waver. "Yes. Yes, I'll do it. I have to be the one. I'll kill Dr. Leitner today."
I left Jerusalem soon after. I wanted to be gone before Daniel went to kill Dr. Leitner. I called Gafni's office before boarding the bus, but there was no answer. I wanted to inform him that the case was over, that I'd failed, that I wouldn't be working it anymore. Maybe he'd get angry, but that didn't matter. Kulaski was dead. I didn't need Gafni's protection anymore.
Back in Tel Aviv, I had dinner at Greta's Café. I planned on staying after closing, to sit with Greta and tell her everything, but she had to leave early that evening. "We'll talk tomorrow," she said, cupping my cheeks with her hands. "I'm so glad to see you back and well."
I watched a movie at Allenby Cinema, then went home and fell into a troubled sleep. At some ungodly hour, I awoke into darkness, certain I'd heard gunshots, but it was only the boom of thunder. Rain started falling. It drummed on the roof like an army of hard-shelled insects demanding entry. I huddled under my blanket and thought of Daniel and prayed that he'd done what he promised and got away with it clean, but somehow I doubted it.
It took me a long while to fall asleep again.
