The Kabbalist (30 page)

L
uria’s mobile phone
rang. He glanced at it. It was an unknown number. “Luria,” he answered tersely.

“Yossi Luria,” said a
voice on the other side. “It has been a long time.” The voice was familiar, but
it took Luria a few seconds to trace it to his old chief, Ehud Arnon. “How are
you, sir?” He said, surprised.

During the first few
months after Luria had left the police, Chief Superintendent Ehud Arnon tried
to reach him, but the hurt and angry Luria never returned his calls. After a
while, Arnon stopped trying and the two have not spoken since.

“Thanks, Luria. I am
fine, and you?”

“I am not complaining.
Still hurting a bit over that incident, but I now understand you had no choice
in the matter, and I am fine today.”

“Luria, you must not
apologize about what happened four years ago. In hindsight, I realize that I
put you in an impossible position.”

Luria was not sure how
he should respond to that, so he just ignored it. “I followed your promotion through
the media,” he said. “So, congratulations, Commander Arnon, Chief of Jerusalem
Regional Unit.”

“Thanks, Luria. I am
actually calling about an event which took place in Jerusalem this morning, in
which your name came up.”

“I am listening."

“Does the name
Yeshayahu Orlev strike a bell?”

“Professor Yeshayahu
Orlev? Of the Hebrew University?”

“That’s the one,” said
Arnon. “I take it that you know him.”

“Yes, I do. What
happened?”

“Well… we are trying to
interview Professor Orlev about a homicide which took place earlier today, and
he insists on your participation in the interview. Somehow, of all the people
in this world, Yossi Luria is the one Professor Orlev trusts. I thought this
would be an excellent opportunity to renew our relationship. That is, if you
have no objections anymore to meet your ex-chief.”

“Homicide?” Luria was
astonished. “Professor Orlev involved in a murder case? I find this highly
unlikely. Who was murdered?”

Arnon was cautious. “I
never said he was involved. This is too early to tell. However, he possesses information
which is critical for the investigation. The victim was an academic from the
Hebrew University, a colleague of Professor Orlev.”

“Can you tell me his
name?”

“This is still not in
the media, so I am telling this to you in confidence. The name is Jonathan
Bennet.”

Luria felt his stomach
turning.

*    *    *

Two hours later, Luria
parked his car in front of Professor Orlev’s house. He jumped out, hurried
through the garden gate to the door and rang the bell. Looking at the bougainvillea
bush and the garden, he experienced a brief
‘Déjà vu’
, which was
shattered when the door was opened by a uniformed police officer.

“Who are you?” asked
the officer.

“Yossi Luria. Private
investigator.”

“Can I see an ID?”

Luria passed him his
driver’s license, which the officer scrutinized carefully, comparing the
picture with the man standing in front of him. “So you are the famous Luria,”
he said, handing him back his license. “Commander Arnon is waiting for you.
Please follow me.”

They passed by the
entrance to the living room, and the officer led Luria to Professor Orlev’s
study. “Wait here, please. The Commander wants a few words with you before you
meet the professor.” He left and Luria remained standing, lost in thought and
feeling very tense.

“Luria, it is so good
to see you,” Arnon’s voice roused him from his reverie. Luria looked at him.
The last four years did his ex-chief good. New rank, new responsibilities… he
had put on some weight, but looked fine and healthy.

"Sir, these are
strange circumstances, but I am very glad to see you too.”

Arnon smiled. “You can
drop the ‘Sir’. I am not your chief anymore.” He extended his hand, and Luria
shook it. “I wish we had met under different circumstances, Luria, but it is
good to see you. Despite what happened and despite your anger, which I can
understand, I have always had high regard for you and considered you a friend.”

Luria was surprised to
discover how important it was for him to hear these words but made an effort to
hide it. “That’s me. It’s my screwed-up character. I did not return your calls
at the time, because I was too hurt and upset. It was childish of me.”

“OK,” said Arnon, “now,
let’s move on to business. I am sure you are wondering why you are here.”

“I will be glad to find
out what is going on.”

“First, I need to
understand your relationship with Professor Orlev.”

Luria was not sure
where to begin.

“I have a case I am
investigating for a client,” he explained. “It is quite an odd one, more of a
historical mystery than a regular investigation. I met Professor Orlev twice in
this context.”

“Historical mystery?”
Arnon frowned. “Just don’t tell me this has anything to do with
that
affair.”

Luria had no intention
to pursue this. “This is a
private
investigation. I am a
private
investigator now.”

“OK. OK.” Arnon backed off.
“So you met the professor twice. What do you know about him?”

“Professor Orlev is not
exactly anonymous. He is a world-renowned scholar of Jewish History. We had two
long meetings, and we have common acquaintances. It is not like we are lifelong
friends, but I do know him to a certain degree.”

“Why does he want you of
all people here?”

“I was surprised too. I
guess I am the only one he knows with a background in police investigations,
and he feels more secure to have me around.”

Arnon wrote something in
his notebook.

“All right,” he sighed.
“It is time I briefed you. Perhaps you’ll be able to fill in a few gaps in this
story for me. Sit down.” He pointed at the chair next to the desk, dropped onto
a couch which stood nearby and started talking, occasionally consulting the
notebook. “At 11:05, we had a call to
101
[xxi]
control,
reporting an injured man, Jonathan Bennet, in a house off Emek Refaim St.,
Jerusalem. The report was made by one Yeshayahu Orlev.” Arnon raised his eyes
from his notebook and looked at Luria. “
Professor
Yeshayahu Orlev,” he
emphasized as if Luria needed that explained.

“101 Control
immediately sent an ambulance and alerted us. The operator tried to talk to the
hysterical Orlev, who muttered a few incomprehensible sentences, wept and
finally hung up. During this confused conversation, the operator heard him also
talking to someone else, who was apparently at his side.” He glanced again at
his notebook. “He said it sounded as if Orlev was trying to calm down a little
child.”

“His son, Naphtali…” said
Luria.

“I thought his son was over
thirty…”

“Yes, but his mental
capacities are of a five-year-old."

Arnon nodded. He went
back to his notebook. “At 11:25 the ambulance arrived on the spot, followed
immediately by a police patrol car. They found the dead body of Jonathan
Bennet. The report suggested homicide.” He looked at Luria, who kept silent.
“At 12:00, police officers arrived at Professor Orlev’s home. They asked him a
few questions, but he was incoherent. He burst into tears occasionally and
could not be calmed down. He asked for you and then withdrew into himself and
stopped communicating. The officers called central to report and asked for a
doctor to be sent. At 12:30, I called you.” Arnon closed his notebook. “And now
you are here. We have lots of questions for the professor, and I depend on you
to help us get some answers.”

“How was Jonathan
killed?” asked Luria.

“Jonathan?” Arnon was
surprised. “You knew him too?”

Luria nodded. “I have
met Professor Bennet in the context of the same case.”

In other circumstances,
Arnon’s expression could have been considered comical. “What’s going on here,
Luria?” he said. “You seem to know everybody involved. Yeshayahu Orlev,
Naphtali Orlev, Jonathan Bennet… you do not cease to amaze me.”

Luria tried a poor
joke. “Eventually, you will suspect me of being the murderer.”

Arnon was not amused.

“So what do you think
happened in Bennet’s place?” Luria repeated his question.

“I have no good answer
for that at this stage,” admitted Arnon. “You are here to help us figure it out
by getting the professor to talk. However, now that I understand you knew
Bennet as well, can you tell me anything about his relationship with Orlev?”

Luria was not sure he
wanted to tell Arnon at this point all he knew. “It is a complex relationship. Bennet
was Orlev’s student, who, in time, became his colleague and partner. Yet,
during the last few years they had some academic differences and became
rivals.”

“Rivals? In what?”

“They had an academic
dispute… something to do with the history of early Christianity. The details
are unimportant, but the fact is that they have not spoken in years.”

“Interesting.” Arnon
wrote something in his notebook. “What do you think got them together today?”

“I have no idea.”

"Finally we have
something you don’t know,” noted Arnon and rose from the couch. “Let’s get to
work, then.”

*    *    *

Luria entered the living
room with Arnon. It was the same hospitable room he remembered from his
previous visits but the atmosphere was dramatically changed. On the couch Jeanne
once occupied, now sat the officer who had shown him in. Two men in civilian
clothes sat beside him. Luria looked at the younger one and decided he was a
detective. The other had a swollen leather case beside him – the doctor. On the
couch just opposite them sat Professor Orlev. There was absolutely no
resemblance between the alert, animated professor, who had always insisted on
preparing his special blend of tea for his guests, and the man now occupying
the couch. Luria saw an old man, with disheveled, sparse white hair and red
eyes, staring emptily at the floor. Professor Orlev looked a total wreck.

The old man now raised
his head, looked at Luria and his eyes lit up. He made an effort to get up from
his couch, but immediately fell back. Luria approached him and shook his hand.
The handshake was feeble. Orlev was exhausted.

“What happened?” asked
Luria gently. “What can I do to help, Professor?”

Orlev moved uneasily on
his couch. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His lips quivered,
and he had difficulty speaking up. “Disaster… catastrophe…” he finally mumbled
and sank back on his couch.

Luria served him a
glass of water. Orlev raised the glass to his lips with a trembling hand and
sipped from it. Luria then retrieved the glass from him and put it back on the
table.

“Thank you for coming…”
said the old man. “I asked… I wanted… to talk to you before I talk to the
police.”

Luria wanted to say something,
but the professor raised his hand weakly. “Do not refuse an old man, Mr. Luria.
I need your help. You know all about investigations and police business, and I
can tell that you are a good and honest man. I trust you. I want to talk to you
in private.”

Luria turned to Arnon.
“Is this OK with you?”

“This is a bit
unusual,” observed Arnon. “But I guess these are unusual circumstances. I had had
some time to think this over before you arrived. I am OK with that.”

Luria thought a moment.
“I am a private investigator,” he said. “I expect every conversation between me
and my client, Professor Orlev, to remain private.”

“This is fine,” said
Arnon. “I have no problem with that. We have also offered the professor to call
a lawyer if he wishes to, but he insisted on you.”

“Well then,” said
Luria. “I will thank you for leaving me and the professor alone.”

Arnon signaled with his
hand, and everybody left the room. Luria and Orlev were alone.

“Well, Professor,” Luria
tried to sound as matter-of-factly as possible, “what did you want to talk to
me about?”

*    *    *

About fifteen minutes
later, Luria invited Arnon and his men back into the living room. Yeshayahu
Orlev sat on his couch, his head bent down on his chest.

Luria addressed Arnon. “Professor
Orlev told me all he knew about what happened in Professor Bennet’s house
today. I advised him to share all this information with you, and he agreed to
do so.”

“I am very glad to hear
that,” said Arnon and turned to Orlev. “Professor, please take all the time you
need and tell us what happened. I remind you again of your right to have a
lawyer present.”

Orlev raised his head.
“I have no need for a lawyer,” he stated firmly. “Mr. Luria here was kind
enough to explain to me all I needed to know, and I have nothing to hide.” He
closed his eyes.

“Well, then,” said
Arnon, “we are listening.”

Orlev remained silent,
with his eyes closed. For a moment, Luria thought the old man had fallen
asleep, but then the professor suddenly opened his eyes.

“Jonathan Bennet was my
student thirty-five years ago,” he began in a strange, hoarse voice. “He was a
brilliant student…” he paused for a second. “He was one of the two most
brilliant students I have ever had…” a shadow crossed the old man’s face.

Luria knew who the
other student was and how much she meant to the old man.

“I loved him like a son,
and I was very unhappy when he decided to go back to the states for his
doctorate. When he returned to the Hebrew University, about ten years ago, I
was a happy man. Jonathan specialized in Christian History, and I do Jewish
History. Our reunion proved very prolific. For a few years, we cooperated and
published a number of articles together, which won praise and attention. About
four years ago we had a dispute, which caused our relationship to be virtually
terminated.”