Bethlehem Road Murder by Batya Gur

Author:Batya Gur
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harper Paperbacks
Published: 2020-10-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Signs of the disturbance were already evident at the junction of Emek Refaim Street and Bethlehem Road. Two police cars blocked the intersection, and two policemen stopped every vehicle for inspection. It was only eight o’clock on the morning of a holiday, and there was already a long line of cars stretched beyond the roadblock. One of the policemen signaled to Michael’s car to stop. Balilty, who was still deep in his report on the questioning of the journalist that night and the difficulty he had in finding Moshe Avital, stuck his head out the window, intending to scold him, but the policeman had already hurried over to the car and said excitedly to Michael: “They’re waiting for you, sir, on Yiftah Street,” and respectfully he also turned to Balilty and said: “Sergeant Ben Yair asked me to tell you that you were right. They found something in that house there, just like you thought.”

“The little girl? Did they find the girl?” asked Balilty.

“No, not the girl,” said the policeman, “but they’ve found someone else: an Arab, I’ve understood—I don’t know the details. They just told me to tell you that they’re waiting for you to get there.”

So as not to disclose his anger at Balilty, Michael said nothing and kept a poker face. Only after they had driven away from the policeman did Balilty say to him apprehensively: “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but over there, behind the house on Bethlehem Street, on Mordechai Hayehudi Street, there’s an abandoned house. It used to be Labor Party offices. Do you know it?”

Michael waited for him to continue.

“So last night, in the middle of questioning Orly Shushan, I suddenly had this feeling . . . like a psychic attack. You know what I mean?” And without waiting for an answer he went on talking, thus making things easier for Michael, who had not yet decided how he was going to deal with this intelligence officer who was acting as though he was in charge of the case. “It was like I saw a picture, really like a dream. I seemed to see that little girl curled up there. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before; I’m not one of those psychics. You know what I mean?”

“Of course I know what you mean,” replied Michael coldly. “You saw a picture. And did you hear voices?”

Balilty ignored the sarcasm. “I sent two people out there. What was there to lose? Just to be on the safe side,” he added in English. “Now did you hear what he just said?”

Michael stopped on Bethlehem Road before the turn into Yiftah Street. He pulled the hand brake and did not turn off the motor, but let it run a while longer until Balilty grew impatient. “Okay, there were too many things to bring you up to date on,” said Balilty. “I just didn’t get around to telling you. Don’t tell me you’re angry at me.”

“It’s not a question of anger,” replied Michael severely.

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