The Trials of Zion by Alan M. Dershowitz

Author:Alan M. Dershowitz [DERSHOWITZ, ALAN M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC014000
ISBN: 9780446558518
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2010-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

XXVIII

Rendi

HE’D HAD THREE DRINKS, and still Habash felt miserable. Wasn’t scotch supposed to dull your pain?

The bartender at the small club at the top floor of the newly reopened American Colony Hotel took Habash’s empty glass and refilled it. When Habash had arrived at the bar after escorting Abe home, he placed a two-hundred-shekel note on the counter and told the bartender that he’d be there awhile. His plan was to stay until the image of Emma tied up in a dingy cell was erased from his mind.

He was going to be at the bar a long, long time.

The moment the trial recessed, Abe and Habash had run back to Pal-Watch and begun amassing a crew to help them examine the video footage. The two men never mentioned what they both feared to be true: that by gambling on Dr. Avigdor’s having lied to the judge, they were grasping at a straw that wasn’t there. But Abe was determined to pore over that footage and to find somebody—anybody—to dispute their client’s testimony about where the bomb was placed.

Habash downed his fourth drink in one gulp and watched the rattling ice cubes slip around the glass. He had no doubt that Dr. Avigdor was lying. He’d encountered this sort of roadblock before. Government agencies were notoriously uninterested in truth and justice. They often decided who they wanted to pay for a crime, then put all their energies into making sure that person looked guilty.

He was becoming jaded.

“Penny for your thoughts.” A cool hand placed on Habash’s back made him jump. Rendi slid onto the barstool next to him and signaled her drink order to the bartender. “Bulletproof vest, eh?”

Habash only nodded.

“I never pegged you for a big drinker,” she said evenly as the bartender served her a Diet Coke.

“I never was,” Habash grumbled. He wished he could disappear. Emma’s stepmother was beautiful. But worse, her eyes were wise and calculating. Habash felt as if she could read his mind. She must have been a hell of a spy in her day.

“Does Emma know how you feel?” she asked quietly.

“What?” Habash again jumped.

Rendi assessed him, staring at him for a long, silent moment. Then she smiled. “Of course she doesn’t. You don’t know how you feel.”

Habash wanted to walk away, but he had never been a disrespectful person. Still, he couldn’t think of what to say to her. “It is my fault that she is going through this.”

Rendi swirled the liquid in her glass. “It’s not. She’s the daughter of a very famous man. And she’s been interested in the Middle East for a long time. She lost a friend here, and since then she’s wanted to help. So she would’ve found a way here, with you or without you.”

Rendi leaned forward and squeezed his arm. “I know you feel guilty, Habash. But when Emma comes home—and she will come home—be sure to tell her what she means to you.”

She left without tasting her drink. Habash watched her go, and for the

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