Hundreds of faces turned to him, bearded faces with bewildered eyes that looked at his blue s.h.i.+rt and khaki pants, at his shaven sideburns. He felt naked without his black coat and black hat. He was The Painted Bird, surrounded by its own kin, who were ready to lynch him. Fear screamed inside his head.

He saw their disbelief giving way to rage. They tore up from their seats, hands clenching into fists, lips spitting words of revilement, a collective howl of d.a.m.nation, which grew louder as they advanced at him. Behind them, his father stood high on the dais, eyes shut, face upturned, hands stretched to the sides, palms open upward.

Lemmy's hand rose, the Mauser appearing between him and the mosaic of red faces. The muzzle aimed at the black of their coats, their heaving chests.

His finger applied pressure to the trigger while his hand rose higher, across their faces, above their heads, until the b.u.mp at the end of the barrel found his father's chest at the opposite end of the synagogue. It lingered there, while the men were almost upon him.

He raised his hand farther up and pressed the trigger.

The recoil threw him back, the explosion tenfold louder than he had expected. He fell down and saw the ejected casing hit the floor nearby. But when he looked up, he froze in terror.

The crystal chandelier, still burning bright, detached from the ceiling. The giant cl.u.s.ter of lights descended, gaining speed until it hit the center of the synagogue and exploded. The noise was terrifying, and the glistening crystal tears bounced up in the air and landed on the floor with ringing chimes, spreading throughout the center aisle and between the benches and under the hundreds of shoes of stunned men, who slipped and dropped to the floor with flailing arms.

The brightness of the chandelier disappeared. Twilight engulfed the synagogue, and an eerie silence.

"There's no punishment," Rabbi Gerster roared, "no punishment for the dead! Only the judgment of the Lord!" He brought his hands to his chest, gripped the lapel of his coat, and pulled his hands forcefully in opposite directions, ripping the black cloth apart. It made a loud tearing sound, like a hoa.r.s.e cry of pain. His eyes closed, the rabbi pressed his fists to his chest, against the torn cloth. With a voice full of agony he recited the mourners' prayer for the dead: "Blessed be He, Master of the Universe, the true judge."

"Amen," the men chorused, rising from the floor. "Amen." None of them looked at Lemmy anymore. For them, and for their rabbi, Jerusalem Gerster was dead.

Chapter 26.

Lemmy spent a week with Tanya-reading, talking, and making pa.s.sionate, tender love. When she sat for hours with the oversized headphones in the other room, he slept as if recovering from months of insomnia. For his eighteen birthday, she baked a chocolate cake and opened a bottle of wine, which they finished together. Now that he was officially an adult, she took him to a government office, where he obtained an Israeli ID card and received his military draft papers.

They barely slept that night. In the morning, they showered together and took the bus to an open field in West Jerusalem, where the IDF had set up a processing center for mandatory draftees, most of them recent high-school graduates. Several rows of military trucks waited in the sun, and female soldiers in olive-green uniform and hoa.r.s.e voices tried to keep order.

Standing among hundreds of young recruits and their families, Tanya hugged him tightly. She smiled through her tears. "Keep safe, will you? And no more rebellions. Once in uniform, you must obey orders."

Lemmy made a mock salute. "Yes, Madam!"

She waved as he climbed onto the back of the truck. "Don't forget to write!"

He blew her a kiss and mouthed, "I love you!"

The trucks departed in a cloud of dust and engine fumes. The families, many with younger children, waved at the convoy until it made the turn onto the main road to Tel Aviv. Fathers put on brave faces while mothers wiped tears.

Tanya walked to the main road, where she planned to catch a local bus back home. She noticed Elie's car, parked farther up the road under a tree.

Tanya got in. "You're becoming too predictable for a spy."

"It's all part of the plan." His face seemed even gaunter than before, his dark eyes sunken beside the protruding bridge of his nose. He was wearing a brown wool cap, pulled down over his ears. He emitted a medicinal smell, which she a.s.sumed came from the ointment on his burns. She watched the families leave the field, some getting into their small cars, others walking, or waiting for the bus. "The army is the best thing for him."

"I made a few calls. He'll be a.s.signed to Paratroopers Command. Their boot camp lasts six months, so even if war breaks out, he'll still be in training, safely away from battle."

She thought of Lemmy in uniform, so different from the Talmudic scholar he had been only a week earlier. He was free now to make new friends, gain confidence in himself, and become a normal Israeli. "Have you spoken to Abraham?"

Elie uttered a strange chuckle, something between clearing his throat and blowing his nose. "He's too furious to speak with anyone. Blames you for brainwas.h.i.+ng his boy."

The thought of Abraham being angry with her gave Tanya mixed feelings-a satisfaction in prevailing over him to set Lemmy free and a lingering doubt as to whether she had done the right thing, tearing a boy from his family and community.

"Better keep away from Abraham," he added. "He's got a temper, you know."

His tone made Tanya wonder whether Elie was telling the truth, or was he up to his usual manipulations. "Lemmy told me that his father was sad, that he hugged him before addressing the men, and tore his coat in mourning, as if his son had died. But you say he's furious?"

"Abraham isn't furious with his son. He's furious with you. But he's a soldier in our fight for survival. A secret agent of his caliber doesn't get distracted from his job by personal problems."

"He's not a machine. Losing a son is a tragedy for any parent."

"Abraham's job is to keep the ultra-Orthodox under control, not to babysit a troublesome teenager whose very existence was an error and whose behavior undermines Abraham's authority. It's better that what's his name is gone from Meah Shearim."

"His name is Jerusalem."

"Right. Jerusalem." Elie tapped the steering wheel. "Of course, to begin with, it would have been better if you had left the boy alone. Abraham's standing in the sect would have been stronger with a devout son to follow him. But once you exposed the boy to secular culture and to carnal pleasures, it's better he's out of the sect. They'll forget about him soon enough, except maybe his mother. Abraham is very concerned about her."

Tanya thought of the woman she had seen briefly that Sabbath morning months ago, when she had visited Abraham's home.

"He's her only child," Elie added as if Tanya didn't know. "I would have her committed to a mental inst.i.tution, but Abraham thinks she'll recover better within the sect."

"She'll recover only when she's reunited with her son. A mother is a mother, no matter what religious differences separate them."

"You don't know Neturay Karta."

"I know motherhood. She can write to Lemmy and meet him when he's on leave."

"I'll suggest it to Abraham." Elie turned on the engine. "Shall we conclude our business?"

Tanya took a deep breath. She was about to hand over the ledger, breaking her promise to the first man she had loved, SS General Klaus von Koenig. But she wasn't doing it for her own personal gain, or for wealth and influence. She was buying Lemmy's freedom. And the money-even if Elie somehow managed to get it from the Swiss-would be used to defend Israel and protect those who had survived the n.a.z.is' camps. It was justice, yet the ledger belonged to Klaus, who had saved her life and turned her into a woman, who had taught her art and music, who had treated her with kindness and affection while the rest of the world was engulfed in cruelty and death. She had not been blind-Klaus was a cultured, polished technocrat, who had applied his education and energy to serve ma.s.s murderers. But with her he had shared only his warmth, humor, and strength, forming a peaceful coc.o.o.n in a stormy world, earning her heart in that all-consuming pa.s.sion of a teenage girl's first love. And that Klaus, the one she had known and loved, would have understood why she was trading his ledger for Lemmy's freedom.

"Here." She held up the pocket-size booklet, bound in black leather, stamped with a red swastika. "But promise me that you won't interfere with the boy. Ever."

"Abraham's son?" Elie made a dismissive gesture. "What would I want with him?"

"Swear!"

He raised his hand. "I solemnly swear that I won't interfere with Jerusalem Gerster."

She watched Elie's thin fingers turn the pages. Each page listed precious stones and jewelry, categorized by size and quality, with meticulous notations of quant.i.ties and totals for each category. On the last page, hand-written in faded blue ink, it said: Deposit of above-listed goods is acknowledged this day, 1.1.1945 by the Hoffgeitz Bank of Zurich. Signed: Armande Hoffgeitz, President.

Chapter 27.

"As of this moment, you will forget your mommy and daddy and your coochie-moochie girlfriend!" The officer, stout with a freckled face, paced down the three-deep line of fresh recruits, holding up his machine gun in the air. "Your Uzi is your new mother, father, and girlfriend!"

"Yes, sir!" Lemmy yelled in chorus with the others.

"Hug your Uzi every morning, kiss it every evening, and sleep with it every night!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Now, get around the building! Thirty seconds!"

"Yes, sir!" The company of about sixty soldiers broke into a sprint, raising dust and spinning pebbles. Lemmy held the Uzi to his chest and ran as fast as he could. Beside him, a dark-skinned recruit tripped over a rock. Lemmy stopped and helped him up, and they chased after the others around the building, rejoining the line in attention.

"You!" The officer pointed at Lemmy. "Did you have a nice stroll? Did you enjoy the view? Shall I call a taxi for you next time?"

Lemmy yelled, "Yes, sir!"

Everyone burst out laughing. Even the officer laughed, suddenly appearing almost as young as the recruits. "Thirty seconds! Go!"

This time, Lemmy was the first to return. When the rest arrived and lined up, the officer clapped slowly. "A bunch of old ladies. Do you want to play bingo now?"

"Yes, sir!"

He grinned. "My name is Captain Zigelnick. But you can call me G.o.d."

"Yes, sir!"

"Drop and give me twenty pushups. Now!"

Lemmy kneeled carefully and strapped on the Uzi so that it rested against his back while he dropped forward on his hands. He heard the officer berating the soldiers who had put their machine guns on the ground.

By the tenth pushup, he was surrounded by grunts and groans. Lemmy gritted his teeth, ignored the burning in his muscles, and counted in his mind. At twenty, he stood up.

Zigelnick pointed at him. "Give me another twenty!"

After more running and pushups, they marched into a rectangular building with bathrooms and showers at one end, an office at the other, and rows of metal-framed beds with foam mattresses in between. Lemmy picked a bed next to the soldier he had helped-Sanani, who spoke Hebrew with the crisp accent of a Yemenite Jew, which also explained his dark complexion.

It rained outside as they lined up. Captain Zigelnick led them down a rocky crevice. Soon, their new boots were caked in mud, and the rain soaked their uniforms. Some of the trainees cursed under their breath, but to Lemmy the wet uniform felt better than any dry black coat. They started up a new hill. Sanani raced him to the top. When the rest of the company gathered, they lined up three-deep and someone started singing, "Jerusalem of Gold, and of bronze, and of light..."

It was a popular song by poet Naomi Shemer, infused with Jewish longing for the Old City, as if the threatened war with the Arabs was not about Israel's very survival, but about recovering the ancient Israelite capital.

Others joined. "The enchanted city, which sits alone, a wall across her heart."

Captain Zigelnick joined the singing. "And no one travels to the Dead Sea, by way of Jericho."

Their voices rose louder, echoing from the surrounding, barren hills. "Jerusalem, which is made of gold."

Lemmy stood shoulder to shoulder with his fellow paratroopers-in-the-making, a chorus of devotion to the Old City he had watched from across the border every Friday of his young life, listening to his father's prayers. He thought of the narrow alleys and the smell of fish from his mother's hands. And the sound of Benjamin's laughter.

"Read our history, and you'll know the future!" Elie watched the two agents push aside their cups of coffee and gaze at the open book. This page of Samuel II told of a hot day in Jerusalem, when King David had enjoyed the cool evening breeze on the roof of his royal palace. He noticed a beautiful woman bathing in a pool of rainwater on a nearby roof and sent a courtier to summon her to his royal bed. When she became pregnant, the king a.s.signed her husband to the front line, where he died in battle. The widow married the king and gave birth to an heir. 'And G.o.d disapproved of the evil which King David had committed.'

The younger agent, Dor, looked up with a grin. "Naughty boy, the king of Israel."

"Like he had a choice? Bathsheba was irresistible." Yosh was an older man, whom Elie had recruited over a decade earlier.

Elie closed the book. "Great men are all alike-three thousand years ago, and yesterday. You know the rumors about Moshe Dayan. I want facts about his affairs: Who he's seduced, where, when, and what happened to their husbands-names, ranks, and service records, especially if they died."

"It's not going to be easy," Dor said. "Dayan is a popular man and a member of the Knesset. We'll have to sniff around his former military staff, his driver, his neighbors, his friends-"

"I don't like it." Yosh pushed Samuel II aside. "I didn't sign up with your department to a.s.sist inept politicians in a lascivious blackmail operation to keep Dayan out of the defense ministry."

"Who said anything about the defense ministry?"

"Oh, come on!"

"And you signed up with me because you were kicked out of s.h.i.+n Bet for equally lascivious activities." Elie paused to let his rebuke sink in. "Now go and do your job!"

Chapter 28.

Three weeks after she had accompanied Lemmy on his first day in the army, Tanya found a letter from him in her mailbox. He described how the harshness of boot camp had forged the company into a tight-knit group. He was learning new skills and growing stronger after a bout of the stomach flu. There was a long paragraph about a five-day hike they had taken in the desert as part of a drill involving a mock attack on a tank-battalion base which, he wrote, was a lot of fun! As if antic.i.p.ating her question, Lemmy added at the end of the letter that he had been thinking of his parents and wondered whether Tanya could find out how they were, especially my mother. From this Tanya deduced that he had received no letters.

Late that night, after the chatter on the UN radio dwindled down to silence, Tanya turned on the automatic recording device and called a taxi.

When they reached Meah Shearim, she asked the driver to wait for her at the gate. Dressed in an overcoat and a knitted wool cap, she walked quickly through the alleys and climbed the stairs to the third-floor apartment.

Rabbi Abraham Gerster opened the door wearing black pants, a white, b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt, and a black yarmulke.

"Shalom, Abraham."

He glared at her. She feared he would slam the door in her face. But he beckoned her into his study.

"You got some nerve coming here." He leaned on his desk. "How is my son?"

"He's in basic training. Paratroopers corps." A reading lamp by the cot shed light on an open book by his pillow, but otherwise the small room was dim. She could not decipher the expression on Abraham's bearded face. "He's doing well," she added.

"I can't say the same for us."