The Jerusalem Assassin (20 page)

When the conversation ended, Gideon took off the headset. He shook his head. “Unbelievable! Just unbelievable!”

“Play it from the beginning,” Elie said.

The prince said, “Hello?”

“Allah’s blessings, Excellency.” The caller spoke with an Arabic accent.

“
Insha’Allah
.”

“Your generosity was put to good use. The Palestinian revolution is indebted to you forever.”

Prince Abusalim hesitated for a moment. “The suffering of our Palestinian brothers is a bleeding wound in the heart of every Arab.”

“Indeed, indeed.” Abu Yusef exhaled audibly. “May Allah open the eyes of our more fortunate brothers so they follow your example.”

“Your courage is certain to break through their hardened souls. Though next time you should care not to hurt the French, our hosts.”

“Indeed it was unfortunate.” Abu Yusef sighed. “But when you cut wood, chips fall. We are fighting for the Haram El-Sharif, which deserves your guardianship, as destiny has prescribed, to spread the rule of Allah under the Koran.”

“
Insha’Allah
.”

“Our operation last week was just the beginning. Allah will bring us victory. And he will bless you with fortunes ten times your generosity.”

“Yes,” said Prince Abusalim, “I think He will. How much do you need?”

“The fight is long and costly. Very costly.”

“Truth is, I’m having some difficulties right now.”

“I understand.” Abu Yusef paused. “Can we help?”

“There is a man who stands in my way. He will be in Paris soon.”

“We shall be honored to remove that man from your way.”

“Five million dollars.”

“Excellency!” Abu Yusef uttered a strange chuckle, probably out of shock at the size of the reward. “Your friendship alone is a sufficient gift. But of course, we accept!”

“Good. I’ll arrange to transfer half the amount. Call me on Wednesday morning for the details. The other half will be paid after you remove him.”

“Agreed! And who is that dog, that filthy infidel, who dared to stand in your way?”

Elie pressed the stop button. He took a piece of paper, scribbled on it, and showed it to Gideon. “Is this the target?”

“Correct.” He looked at Elie with astonishment. “How did you know?”

Elie put his hand on the thick bible. “There are no new stories. It’s all in here.” He pointed at the recorder. “Make a copy of the tape.”

“Hey,” Bathsheba said, “I want to hear the end!”

“The end is near.” Elie went back to the bedroom. “Wake me up at eight.”

*

Tuesday, October 24, 1995

The three of them waited outside until the doctors completed morning rounds in the ICU. Paula explained to Klaus Junior what had happened to his grandfather and how the doctors were trying to help him recover.

The room was painted light blue, with framed posters of greenery and water. Armande Hoffgeitz’s eyes were closed and various tubes entered his body. Steady beeps came from the heart monitor above the bed.

“Hi, Grandpa.” The boy touched the hand that rested on the sheet. “I have to go to school now. Get better so I can see you later, okay?”

Paula and Lemmy followed him out of the room.

“Is Grandpa going to die?”

Lemmy kneeled, his face level with his son’s. “We don’t know yet. But he’s very ill. Will you pray for him?”

The boy nodded.

Paula smiled through her tears.

Lemmy took him to school and drove to the bank. Christopher had summoned the staff to a conference room. Lemmy gave them a brief update on his father-in-law’s medical condition and prognosis.

Herr Diekman, the most senior account manager, stood up. “All of us pray for Herr Hoffgeitz’s quick and full recovery. In the meantime, we have complete confidence in your leadership.”

“Thank you. Paula and I appreciate your support and friendship at this difficult time.”

Everyone was silent for a moment.

“Being one of the oldest institutions in this city,” Lemmy continued, “the Hoffgeitz Bank is a symbol of stability. We take pride in our superb and uninterrupted client service. As vice president, I have assumed all administrative and managerial responsibilities for the bank. Any and all account transactions that exceed the equivalent of ten thousand dollars, cumulative for a single day, require my signature—including the accounts owned by Herr Hoffgeitz’s clients, which are under the supervision of Herr Schnell.”

Günter, who was standing against the wall, nodded. The other men exchanged glances around the table, but no one questioned the instructions.

“If you have any concerns, please come to me. Our message to our clients and the banking community is that business continues as usual at the Hoffgeitz Bank.”

He returned to his office and spent an hour returning phone calls and answering mail. Before lunch, he summoned Christopher. “I was wondering, has Günter completed entering the data into the system?”

“Yes. I’ve followed his progress on my computer. He has inserted numbers for all of the accounts that Herr Hoffgeitz handles personally, which amounts to less than thirty accounts actually. Is there a problem?”

“My father-in-law had a heart attack right after a mysterious phone call regarding an account of an old friend. Why?”

“Maybe your wife knows who it is?”

“I won’t drag Paula into the bank’s business.” Lemmy rocked in his chair. “It’s my responsibility to find out what’s going on before the bank’s reputation could be damaged. You agree?”

Christopher nodded. “You want me to ask Günter again?”

“He won’t talk. But the computer now holds all the records of deposits and withdrawals in each of the bank’s accounts since the beginning of this year, correct?”

“Yes, but because Herr Hoffgeitz’s accounts are segregated from the clients managed by you and the account managers, I can only see the total turnover for his clients’ accounts as a combined group, not individually.”

Lemmy played with the pen. “What’s the total value of all the deposits currently with the bank?”

“Calculated in U.S. dollars, our total holdings in all the accounts add up to about forty-two billion.” Christopher rose. “I can find the exact number—”

“And what part of it is held in the accounts of Herr Hoffgeitz’s clients?”

“As a group, almost sixty percent.”

“About twenty-four billion dollars?”

“Yes.”

“Good. What I need from you are two numbers. First, the total turnover—deposits and withdrawals—in Herr Hoffgeitz’s clients’ accounts as a group during the month of September. Second, the total turnover in the rest of the bank’s clients’ accounts as a group, also during the month of September. Can you do that?”

“Easy.” Christopher left to run the numbers.

Lemmy brought up Herr Hoffgeitz’s office on his computer screen. Günter was sitting in the president’s chair on the far side of the room, surrounded by the light from the window behind him. Using the arrows on his keyboard, Lemmy zoomed in. The face drew closer, filling the screen, the lips trembling, the eyes shut tightly, the tears flowing.

A moment later, Christopher knocked on the door.

Lemmy punched the escape key and unlocked the door.

Christopher placed two pieces of paper on the desk.

The numbers were shocking. Lemmy examined them carefully, calculating in his mind, and then sat back in his chair, struggling to keep his feelings from showing on his face. On the desk before him was the reason for Elie Weiss’s lifelong obsession with the Hoffgeitz Bank.

“Herr Horch? Anything wrong?”

“Don’t you see?” Lemmy grabbed a pencil and jotted down a few numbers, then turned the page. “I rounded up your numbers for simplicity. Herr Hoffgeitz and Günter manage accounts for a small group of clients. We don’t know who they are, but we do know there’s a total of about twenty-four billion dollars, right?”

Christopher nodded.

“During September, the total turnover in his clients’ accounts was about twenty-one million dollars. That’s about—”

“Less than one-tenth of one percent of the total balance of all his clients’ accounts combined.”

“Correct.” Lemmy wrote the number down. “Now, in the rest of the bank’s accounts, including those that I manage and the accounts handled by the others, we have total balance of about eighteen billion dollars altogether, correct?”

Christopher nodded.

“And according to your numbers, the total turnover in and out of these accounts during the last month was four hundred and seventy million dollars, which is a little more than—”

“Two-and-a-half percent.”

“Correct!” He threw down the pencil. “See?”

“How strange.” Christopher stared at the numbers in astonishment. “Herr Hoffgeitz’s clients barely move their money. Why?”

“Good question!”

“Maybe some of his clients are not active at all?”

“Bingo!” Lemmy picked up the pencil. “If Herr Hoffgeitz’s clients are divided into two groups—active accounts and inactive accounts—how much would each group hold?”

“You mean, if we assume that Herr Hoffgeitz’s active clients behave like the rest of the bank’s clients?”

“Correct.”

“We could extrapolate the turnover amount in Herr Hoffgeitz accounts—twenty-one million dollars—by the normal turnover percentage of two-and-a-half percent.”

“In other words, take the turnover amount in his accounts and multiply it by forty, which comes to—”

“Eight hundred and forty million.”

“That’s right. So out of twenty-four billion dollars in the accounts that Herr Hoffgeitz manages exclusively with Günter’s help, only eight hundred and forty million dollars are in active accounts.”

Christopher thought for a moment. “And the rest is sitting in inactive accounts—”

“Or a single account.”

“With a total balance of over twenty-three billion dollars!”

“Based on September’s figures,” Lemmy said. “But even if the numbers fluctuate a bit, we can safely assume that a huge part of Herr Hoffgeitz’s clients’ holdings remains inactive.”

“That’s incredible!”

“
Interesting
may be a better word. But also logical, because he would normally assign the routine handling of clients to one of the accounts managers. Herr Hoffgeitz would only keep special accounts under his own management.”

“Special in what way?”

“That’s what we need to find out.” Lemmy walked around the desk and stood by the door. “Great work, Christopher. You’ll make an excellent assistant to the president.”

“Thank you!”

“Now try to sniff around Günter, but don’t frighten the old guy, okay?”

Christopher disappeared behind the door, but a moment later buzzed Lemmy on the intercom. “Prince Abusalim az-Zubayr is on the line. He wants to talk to you.”

*

At the Hilton suite in Paris, the lights blinked on the eavesdropping system. “Outgoing call,” Gideon announced.

“Put it on the speakers,” Elie said.

“What happened?” Bathsheba clapped. “No more secrets?”

Gideon hushed her, and a man’s voice came from the speakers. “Welcome back, Excellency. How is Paris treating you?”

“It’s good to be back, Herr Horch. Six-one-nine, El-Sharif.”

“How can we help you?”

“I know this voice!” Bathsheba pointed at the machine. “That’s the man who left the message earlier.”

Elie put a finger to his lips.

“Another transfer,” the prince said, “to the same bank in Senlis.”

“Of course. How much would you like to give Monsieur Sachs this time?”

“Two-and-a-half million dollars. And there will be another transfer of the same amount in a week or so, after he completes a certain job for me. I’ll let you know.”

“It’s an honor to serve you. The transfer will take place tomorrow, Wednesday, the twenty-fifth. It might take the French a few hours to get the cash ready. Should be available for pickup in the afternoon.”

“Perfect. Be well, my friend.”

Gideon turned off the speakers. “We’re back in the game.”

“It’s not a game,” Bathsheba said. “And who’s Herr Horch?”

“This is it,” Elie said. “Tomorrow afternoon. We must prepare well. We won’t have a second chance.”

“Wasn’t Horch a carmaker?” Gideon reset the recording device.

“This guy doesn’t make cars.” Bathsheba looked at Elie. “How the hell did you manage to turn a Swiss banker into an Israeli agent?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“I do worry! What if he’s a double agent? What if he’s sick of you blackmailing him or whatever you’re doing to make him work for you? What if he’s setting us up for Abu Yusef?”

“She’s right,” Gideon said. “We need to know if Horch is reliable.”

“He’s more reliable than the two of you put together.” Elie lit another cigarette and opened his bible. “Better start to prepare. Everything will depend on your performance.”

*

Prince Abusalim rang room service for a bottle of iced champagne and an assortment of sweets. He went to the bathroom and watched his naked image in the wall-to-wall mirror, taking pleasure in his muscular body as it produced a healthy stream of urine.

Wearing nothing but a bandage on his hand, he returned to the bedroom, where a voluptuous blonde was spread out on the bed, supported by a mound of pillows, eating square bits of chocolate from a silver bowl nestled between her breasts.

He wondered if he should let her stay the night.

The book of Koran rested on the night stand. He opened the drawer and dropped the Koran out of sight. “You eat too much chocolate, my little Rubens.” He squeezed the flesh of her thigh.

She giggled, reaching for his groin. “Maybe I’ll eat
this
chocolate.”

“That’s my girl.” He grabbed her hair. “
Bon appétit
.”

*

Paula served tender pork chops and sweet potato fries for dinner. Klaus Junior nibbled at the food as he listened to Lemmy reading aloud get-well cards sent by bank employees, clients, and a few of Armande’s old friends.

While Paula served cheesecake for dessert, the phone rang.

Lemmy got up. “I’ll take it in the study.”