Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (161 page)

She stared after him. It was the first time she'd seen him
wearing his yarmulke around the house. She had been wondering what he was doing in the kitchen, and now she knew.
He'd been praying.

She moved over to the windows and parted the curtains a
crack. Four storeys below, Schmarya was raising his hands for
silence and shaking his head. After a moment he turned to a
policeman, had a brief conversation during which he gesticu
lated a lot, and then pointed to the lobby doors. After more gesticulating, he went inside the building again.

When Tamara heard him unlock the door, she advanced
toward him, a questioning look on her face.

'They're impatient,' Schmarya grumbled, 'but I got them to
wait. We said eleven o'clock, and eleven o'clock it will be. I
don't think they'll be ringing the bell again,' he said with a
touch of satisfaction, and lumbered back into the kitchen, his
limp even more pronounced.

At a quarter to eleven, Tamara went into the bedroom.
Dani stopped her. He looked at her with concern. 'Where are
you going?'

She looked surprised. 'Why, to put on some makeup and change, of course.' She gestured at herself. 'I can't face the
cameras looking like this.'

He had to smile. 'Like Swanson in
Sunset Boulevard!
Facing
the cameras again at long last?'

She didn't attempt even a ghost of a smile, and he realized
his mistake at once; this was no time for jokes. 'I'm sorry,' he
said lamely.

'Don't be,' she said. 'I'm only getting dolled up to get the
reporters on our side. I think they and the public will take
more interest in this case if I give them what they want.'

He looked at her with renewed respect. Always, her
instincts were right on the mark.

He kissed her cheek. 'Go put on a drop-dead face,' he said
gently.

She nodded. 'I shan't be long.'

And she wasn't. When she came back out, she looked like
a new person. Her wrinkles were smooth, filled with expensive
creams and lotions, and her pallor was hidden by a thin, unnoticeable layer of blusher. Of course, the strain still showed,
but it was controlled and toned down, and that was not only
the result of cosmetics. The Tamara who had gone into the
bedroom had looked defeated and dishevelled, but the one
who came out ten minutes later was groomed, composed, and
dignified. She had put on her best suit for the occasion—a cream-coloured Chanel with navy piping, three strands of
giant faux pearls, and an elegant white straw hat.

'You look beautiful,' Dani said.

She was carrying his good summer-suit jacket, and she held
it as he slipped his arms into the sleeves. Then, turning, she
fastened the middle button and adjusted the handkerchief in
the breast pocket. 'There.' Her smile was strained but gen
erous. 'You look very debon—'

Startled, she broke off and raised her eyebrows: the clock
had started to chime eleven o'clock.

Schmarya limped out of the kitchen, mumbling gruffly
under his breath.

'Ready?' Dani looked from one of them to the other.

Tamara looked at Schmarya. 'Father?'

'I'm as ready as I'll ever be.'

Tamara looked at Dani questioningly. 'The prepared state
ment?'

'I have it right here.' He felt the inside pocket of his jacket. 'A box of copies to hand out is downstairs by the front door.'

She thrust her chin out determinedly, but there was a fever
ish glitter in her eyes. 'Well, then,' she said with forced light
ness, iet's go break a leg. And remember, no tears, no show of
misery. We're going to come off dignified and controlled . . .'
Her voice wobbled and she whispered, 'Let's get it over with.'

They went out into the stairwell and hooked arms, so that she was in the centre, and they went downstairs that way,
showing a united front and drawing strength from one
another.

As soon as they made their appearance, the camera shutters
clicked in unison and the reporters surged forward. Dani felt
Tamara going rigid, but he and Schmarya managed to shield her as they pushed through the crush. Focusing a blank stare
just above the crowd's heads and ignoring the babble of
shouted questions, they headed toward the forest of micro
phones in the car park. The police linked arms, holding every
one back.

It's like a damn premiere, Tamara thought. If someone thrusts an autograph book at me, I'm going to scream.

Dani leaned into the microphones. 'First, I would like to
read a prepared statement,' he said levelly. 'Afterwards, there
will be time to answer your individual questions. If you'll
please hold them until then . . .'

He looked down at the paper and read it verbatim, his voice
never wavering. 'Ladies and gentlemen of the press. It is with
heavy hearts that we inform you that our daughter, the actress
Daliah Boralevi, is missing, and presumed kidnapped.' There
was a flurry of movements and gasps, and he held up a hand to silence them. 'She arrived at Ben-Gurion Airport two days
ago on El Al flight 1002, and was intercepted by a person or
persons unknown. There have been no ransom demands, and
the police and the Shin Bet are investigating. It is believed
that her disappearance may be tied into the murder of Elie
Levin, an El Al customer-service representative. . . .
'

Tamara looked at him as he continued to give out the pre
pared bits and pieces of information, along with the new listed
telephone number and the number of the police. She mar
velled that he seemed so in control. It was impossible to guess
that he was a man near breaking point. He had pulled himself
together for the cameras and was giving it his all.

'Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,' Dani was saying.
'Before you leave, the policeman in the lobby has copies of
this statement, which he will distribute to all of you. Now, if
you have any questions—'

He got that far before pandemonium set in. The barrage of
hurled questions was such an incoherent babble that it was
impossible to hear a single one.

Dani looked at Tamara, and she nodded. Drawing a deep
breath, she stepped forward. Miraculously, the reporters fell
silent. 'Ladies and gentlemen,' she said softly in that unforget
table screen voice, 'I don't think I need to introduce myself.'

She looked around, and there were appreciative chuckles. Her own wry smile let them know that she appreciated their
response.

'All I have to add is that I am not here as an ex-film star. I am here as an ordinary mother. Daliah is my daughter,' she
continued, her voice quivering with controlled emotion, 'and
as any mother would be under these circumstances, I am wor
ried sick. I beg of you, ask your readers and television watch
ers, if any of them has any information, anything at all, no
matter how trivial it might seem, to please,
please
contact us
or the police. Our telephone is manned around the clock, and
anything anyone can tell us will be held in strictest confidence. We have put up a reward of fifty thousand US dollars to any
one who can give us information leading to Daliah's release,
no questions asked.' She paused. 'We'll be forever grateful
for your help in disseminating this message.' Her lips trembled
and she dabbed at an eye with her fingertips. 'Thank you.'

And then the questions began anew. As expected, they were
all directed at Tamara.

Fighting to keep her voice steady, she answered as best she
could:

'No, I'm afraid we have no idea who could have done
this . . . No, she has no enemies as far as we know . . . Yes,
sometimes I
do
worry about the price of fame. There are a lot
of unstable people out there, and being so recognizable . . .
But I don't honestly think it could have been a demented fan.
Fans would never . . . No, we have no idea at all . . .'

As Dani watched her, a feeling of amazement held him in
thrall. The flush of her nervousness had brought a glowing
colour to her face, and her constantly shifting eyes caused
them to gleam with the lively brightness he knew would be
caught so well on film. Even in distress and advancing age,
during this, what was probably the single most painful moment
in her entire life, she shone as photogenically as she had at the
height of her fame.

'Of course, we never expected anything like this, otherwise we would have had bodyguards. But they're such a violation of one's privacy. And as I said, we truly never expected any
thing like this to happen. But then, who does?'

Dani's amazement grew. Tamara was still obviously under
severe stress, but some of her tension was melting away. The
reporters and photographers were actually respectfully giving her time to think before replying to their questions. They even
began to behave more civilly to each other. A lot of their
pushing and shoving had stopped.

tamara tames the press,
Dani mentally headlined it.

'It goes without saying that we'll do everything within our
power for Daliah's return,' Tamara was saying. 'They could
even trade her for me, although I'm not so sure they'd be crazy
about an old woman.'

Dani exchanged glances with Schmarya, and it was then that
he knew he was not imagining it. Tamara was wrapping the
reporters around her little finger.

'Once she's back?' Tamara asked. 'I couldn't advise her to stay out of the public eye, could I? I mean, that's her job, just
as it was once mine. Is there a reporter among you who would
refuse a job simply on the grounds that it was dangerous?' Her
eyes roved over them. 'No, I expect not. So, yes, I'd advise
her to live her life as she has been doing.'