Kellerman, Jonathan - The Theatre

Laufer picked up the Herald Tribune piece, looked at it, and ripped it in half, then in half again. "Now that he's seen how successful he's been, he'll be exploiting this Butcher shit as long as it remains unsolved. And you can bet the others keep falling over one another to outdo him. Bastards." A

sickly smile spread across the pouchy face: "The Butcher.

Now your killer has a name."

Your killer. Like one parent blaming another for the behaviour of a delinquent child.

'I don't see how we can concern ourselves with the press," said Daniel.

"The point is," continued Laufer, "that your team has accomplished nothing tangible. You're giving them all a giant tit to suck."

Daniel said nothing.

Laufer raised his voice: "I've sent you four memos of inquiry in the last six days. None have been answered."

"There was nothing to report."

"I don't give a goddamn what there was to report! When I send a memo, I expect a response."

"I'll be more conscientious," said Daniel, "about responding to your inquiries."

The deputy commander stood, placed his knuckles on the top of the desk, and leaned on them, thick torso swaying, looking like a gorilla.

"Cut the crap," he said. "Get the patronizing tone out of your voice." A thick hand slapped the desk. "Now catch me up-what do you have?"

"As I said, nothing new."

"What route did you take to reach that glorious destination?"

Daniel gave him a review of procedures, the interrogation of the sex offenders, the surveillances and record checks, the matching wound molds that confirmed both women had been cut with the same knives. Knowing any mention of similarities between Fatma and Juliet would be a slap across the deputy commander's flabby-face, a reminder that his quick-solve press release was now a departmental joke.

But Laufer seemed almost to revel in the misery, making Daniel repeat himself, go over picayune forensic details that had no bearing upon the cases. When he finally seemed sated, Daniel took a copy of the handbill out of his attache case and handed it to Laufer.

The deputy commander glanced at the paper, crumpled it, tossed it into the wastebasket. "What of it?"

"I wasn't notified of his presence."

"That's correct."

"We're investigating two sex murders, and a sex offender moves into the community-"

"He's a child molester, Sharavi, not a murderer."

"Sometimes," said Daniel, "they go hand in hand." Laufer raised one eyebrow. "Upon what do you base that statement?"

Ignorant pencil-pusher, thought Daniel. And the man had attained his post all because of him. He fought to hold on to his temper.

'Upon American crime data, FBI reports… Several serial murderers have been found also to be child molest-ers. Sometimes they alternate between killing and molesting phases; sometimes the crimes occur in tandem. If you'd like, I can show you the sources."

Laufer chewed his lip, tormenting the rubbery flesh, Cleared his throat and tried to regain face. "You're telling me that most serial murderers are molest-ers.'

'Some."

"What percentage?"

'The sources didn't say."

"If you quote statistics, be prepared to back them up with numbers."

Daniel was silent. Laufer smiled. Now it was his turn to patronize.

'Some murderers, Sharavi, are also thieves. Some are reckless drivers. The pedophile thing may be nothing more than a random correlation-nothing to make Malkovsky a suspect."

'What," Daniel asked, "does this guy have going fof him in order to earn this kind of protekzia?" 'Protekzia has nothing to do with it," snapped Laufer. 'He's never been convicted of anything." 'He escaped before trial."

'He's a Jew, Sharavi. You saw that beard-as long as Moses.' Entitled to entry under the Law of Return." 'So was Meyer Lansky, but we sent him back to Amer-ica.'

'Malkovsky's no Lansky, believe me. Besides, we've re-ceived no extradition request from the Americans." 'Yet." said Daniel. "What happens when we do?"

Laufer r ignored him. "In the meantime, he's well super-vised. His rebbe vouches for him."

"I didn't know," said Daniel, "that we employed rebbes as probation officers."

"That's enough! A decision was made, in a specific context. A decision that you needn't concern yourself with."

"The man," said Daniel, "is seriously disturbed. He admitted to me having erotic feelings for his own daughters, denied molesting them, but I think he's lying."

"You think? You've harassed him, have you?"

"I've spoken to him."

"When and where?"

"Yesterday, at his apartment."

"What else have you done?"

"He's under surveillance."

"By whom?"

"Cohen."

"The new hire-how's he doing?"

"Fine."

"Told you he was a good kid. Anyway, call him off and reassign him."

"Tat Nitzav-"

"Call him off, Sharavi. Malkovsky is being handled. Stick to your own case and it might even get solved."

Daniel's abdomen was hot as a fry pan, his jaw so tight he had to consciously relax it in order to speak.

"If you don't approve of how I've done my job, feel free to remove me from the case."

Laufer looked at him hard, then applauded.

"Very theatrical, Sharavi. I'm impressed."

He pulled an English Oval out of his shirt pocket. Lit it, smoked, and let the ashes fall on the clippings. A stray ember rolled from the papers onto the desk top and he stubbed it out with a fingertip. Examining the gray-smudged finger, he said, "If and when you're removed, the decision won't be yours. In the meantime, stay out of administrative matters and concentrate upon the job at hand. Tell me, how many staff meetings have you had?"

"Staff meetings?"

"Getting the team together, sharing information."

"I'm in daily contact with each of them."

"How many times have all of you gotten together?"

"Twice."

"Not nearly enough. In cases such as these, communication is paramount. Collating, correlating, the tying up of loose ends. You may have missed something-another Anwar Rashmawi."

Laufer played with the cigarette ashes, allowed his words to sink in.

"Communicate,"hesaid."Verticallyandhorizontally. And expand your thinking. Open up new avenues of investigation." Daniel took a deep breath, let it out silently. "Such as?"

"Such as Arab girls are being cut up like kebab meat. Such as maybe the Arab papers aren't all wrong. Have you thought of talking to Moshe Kagan and his gang?"

'Am I to consider Rabbi Kagan a suspect?" 'Rabbi Kagan thinks he's another Kahane. Arabs are subhuman-unclean animals. He goes to their villages and calls them dogs to their faces. He and his Gvura hooligans are a giant pain in the ass-bunch of misfits and nut cases. All they want is an excuse to go around breaking heads. Is it illogical to suppose that one of them has convinced himself it's a mitzva to slaughter unclean animals?" 'No.' said Daniel, "not illogical at all. But we ran a check on them last year, after Kagan was elected. Found no evidence of violence beyond tough talk and a couple of light skirmishes with the communists."

But even as he spoke, he recalled what Ben David had told him: Racist politics and psychopathy can be comfortable bedfellows… We're not all lambs. There's a reason for the commandment

Times change," Laufer was saying. "Crazies get crazier." The other thing to consider is that he's a Member of the

Knesset.'

One lousy seat," said Laufer. "An aberration-next elec-tion he'll be out on his ass. Couple of years from now he'll be back battling blacks in Brooklyn."

Brooklyn, thought Daniel. In a couple of years, where would Malkovsky be? He said nothing, but his thoughts were transparent and Laufer read them.

'Obviously, you like talking to rabbis, so talk to this one.

Your kipah should help forge a bond between the two of you.

I also heard that he likes Yemenites, tries to recruit them to prove he's not a racist. Go, drop in on him, send him regards from the whole damned department-two hundred thousand dollars American his last demonstration cost us in extra man-hours, barricades, new windshields. Send him regards and ask him if his hooligans have turned into slaughterers."

Laufer looked down and began shuffling papers. Smoking and rubber-stamping and signing his name. Daniel stood there for several moments, knowing if he left without being formally dismissed, the DC would dump on him.

"Anything else, Tat Nitzav?"

Laufer glanced up, feigning surprise at his presence. "Nothing. Get going. Go about your business."

He went back to his office, radioed Avi Cohen at Wolfson, had him come back to Headquarters and, when he arrived twenty minutes later, told him of Laufer's decision.

"Pencil-pushing prick," exploded the young samal. "Just when I'm getting a feel for the pervert-he's getting more and more nervous, always looking over his shoulder. Scratching his head and his crotch, pacing the courtyard. This morning he drove by a school, stopped for a few moments, and looked through the gate. I know he's up to something, Pakad."

"Which school?"

"The religious publicschool-Dugma,on Rehov Ben Zvi."

Mikey and Benny's school. Daniel visualized Malkovsky's enormous body silhouetted against the fence, pressing against the chain link.

"His own kids don't go there?"

"No, they're at the Prostnitzer Heder, near Mea She'arim. He'd already dropped them off and was on the way home when he stopped at Dugma."

"Did he do anything besides look?"

Avi shook his head. "Look was all, but I tell you he's getting more and more jumpy-yelling at his wife, showing up later and later at the yeshiva. And he's always alone. I haven't seen him with the rebbe. Yesterday he left early, went home, and stayed inside all day-no evening minyan. nothing. Maybe he had a cold or something, but I wouldn't count on it. For all we know he could be abusing his own daughters." Avi shook his head in disgust. "He's going to pop. I can feel it. This is the worst time to back off."

His handsome face shone with excitement. The thrill of the hunt, a detective's joy. The kid would work out fine, Daniel decided.

"Dammit," said Avi, "isn't there some way to get around it?"

"No. The order was clear."

"What kind of protekzia does he have?"

"I don't know." In Daniel's mind the bearish silhouette had pushed its way through the chain link, metal buckling and splitting open under the massive weight. Tiny bodies in the background, playing and whooping, unaware of the approaching monster. When the bodies took on faces, round and chubby-cheeked, with black curly hair, dusky skin, and Laura's features, he put the image out of his head, found that he'd been clenching his fist so hard it ached.

"Your new assignment," he told Avi, "is to hook up with the Chinaman, do what he tells you." The big detective was circulating around the Old City, combing the souqs and stalls and coffee-houses, walking every cobbled step of the dark, arched streets. Seeking out pimps and lowlifes, anyone who would talk, still looking for someone who'd seen

Fatma or Juliet.

'What does he need me for?"

"He'll inform you of that when you get there," said Daniel. A bureaucrat's answer-both he and Cohen knew it. Avi pouted, then just as quickly shrugged and smiled broadly, flashing even white teeth, blue eyes bouncing with mischief.

"Sounds like an easy job, Pakad."

'Don't count on it. Yossi's got plenty of energy." 'Oh. yeah, I know, a real gever. But I'm no girl. I can keep up.'

'Good for you," said Daniel, wondering about the sudden change of mood, the return of the rich-kid arrogance. Cohen might have instincts, but he still needed taming. "Have fun." Instead of leaving, Avi came closer. 'What I'm saying is that it won't keep me too busy." Are you complaining about the assignment?"

"No, Dani," grinned Avi, sounding inappropriately familiar. It was the first time he'd addressed Daniel by anything other than Pakad. "Terrific assignment, a real plum. What I'm saying, Dani, is that I'll have plenty of energy left over. For extra work." He held out his hands, waited expectantly. "No," said Daniel. "Forget it. The orders came down from the top."

"Thing is"- Avi's grin was wide-"there's more than just work involved. I met this girl at Wolfson, rich, kind of pretty, parents live in South Africa. She goes to Hebrew U., lives in this terrific apartment all by herself. Great chemistry. Who knows, it could be true love."

"Mazal tov," said Daniel. "Invite me to the wedding."

"True love," repeated Avi. "No crime in visiting my little sweetie, is there? Playing tennis and swimming in the pool? No crime in the pursuit of love, is there?"

"No," smiled Daniel. "That's no crime at all." Cohen looked at his watch. "In fact, with the Pakad's permission, I've got to run right now. Got a lunch date with her in a few minutes. Blintzes and iced tea, on her balcony." More teeth. "Great view from that balcony."

"I'll bet."

"No crime in lunch, is there?"

"Get out of here," said Daniel. "Call Yossi after you've eaten your blintzes."

Avi rubbed his hands together, saluted, and was off. As soon as the door closed, Daniel radioed the Chinaman. The connection was bad and they shouted at each other through a rain of static before Daniel told him to get to a phone. A few minutes later, the big man called; there was Arabic music in the background, the rattling of trays, a hum of voices.