The Kabbalist (15 page)

“The Carmelite
Monastery?” asked Luria, surprised.

“Yes, indeed,” said
Eldad, “the very place that got us together four years ago.”

Luria wanted to say
something, but thought better of it.

Eldad went on. “From
the vicinity of the monastery, there is a good view of Acre. Napoleon fixed his
glass on it and was shocked to discover two British ships of war anchored near the
city. The ships, under Commodore Sydney Smith, arrived there a few days earlier
to support the Turks and El-Jazzar. Napoleon immediately realized the danger
for the cargo ships which carried his supplies, guns and siege equipment. He
promptly sent warning to his small flotilla, which was anchored in Tantura
(today’s Dor), preparing to move towards Acre, but by the time his messengers got
there, the ships had already left. Of the nine ships, six were captured by the British,
and their heavy guns were incorporated into Acre’s defense batteries. The
remaining three took to sea and fled all the way to France. This was a major
blow for the planned siege of Acre.”

Eldad took a deep
breath. “As a lecturer I resort, every so often, to anecdotes to keep the
students attentive. Here are two anecdotes for you. The man who organized the
Acre defense with great skill, and put the guns lost by Napoleon to use, was
Colonel Antoine de-Phelipoux, a Frenchman of noble descent, who was a personal
friend of Sydney Smith, the British commander. De-Phelipoux, who joined the
British to fight revolutionary France, was an ex-classmate of Napoleon in the
military academy in Paris. He finished first in the class where Napoleon was
third. The two were bitter enemies from the day they met.”

He smiled. “And here is
another small detail. One of those who witnessed Sydney Smith’s ships arriving
at Acre, was a young Hassid and Kabbalist of twenty seven, who happened to be
visiting the Holy Land at the time, and found himself in the middle of a war.
He interrupted a tour of a few months, in which he had visited Haifa, Tiberias,
Safed and Meron, and hurriedly caught a ship from Acre back to Europe. This man
became, in due course, one of the most influential men in Hassidic history. His
name was…”

“Rabbi Nachman of
Breslau,” said Luria.

The professor was taken
aback. “Very good; I am impressed.”

“I have relatives among
the Breslau Hassidim,” explained Luria. “One of them mentioned this story to
me.”

“OK, then. Let’s get
back to our narrative now,” Eldad pressed on. “Napoleon advanced on Acre, and
on March 28
^th
made the first attack upon the walls. The Frenchmen succeeded
in breaching the northeastern corner of the wall and charged in. However, the
attack failed, and Napoleon decided to wait for heavier guns and ammunition
from his Egyptian base. Since it now turned out that it was going to be a long
siege, he had to secure the area. In three weeks, Napoleon’s men took over the
valley of Jezreel and the Galilee and reached Tiberias on the shores of the Sea
of Galilee. During this takeover, the French fought the
‘Battle of Tabor’
,
in which they defeated a much bigger Turkish force which had arrived from
Damascus to join forces with the local Arabs.”

“Hold on a second,”
interrupted Luria. “Did they arrive at Safed?”

“Yes. A small force
occupied Safed, driving away the Turkish garrison. Why?”

“Just my curiosity, I
was born in Safed. Please go on.”

“By the end of April, the
long-awaited guns had arrived. However, the sand in Napoleon’s hourglass was
running out. Now he had another serious problem on his hands – The Plague. The
disease assumed epidemic proportions among his troops, causing many casualties.
Napoleon did not lose time and on May 10
^th
started his offensive on
the walls. But this was not the creative Napoleon from other campaigns. He
repeated the same offensive plan he had used in March – concentrating his
forces at the northeast corner of the wall - and fell right into an elaborate
trap prepared by El-Jazzar and de-Phelipoux. The besieged, who had successfully
guessed Napoleon’s move, prepared a new, internal line of fortifications and
let the French storm through the outer wall. Once inside, the Frenchman found
themselves channeled into a walled valley of death, with their enemies shooting
at them from both sides. Hundreds were killed or captured. The next wave was
broken as well. The soldiers’ morale was now so low that Napoleon, arriving to
cheer them up, was booed away. He was left with no choice but to withdraw. He
ordered Acre bombarded with all his remaining ammunition and on May 21
^st
,
his expeditionary force started withdrawing.

“This was not a simple
affair. The army started retreating, dragging the wounded with it. In Haifa,
matters grew worse when the sick and wounded, treated in the Stella Maris
Monastery up Mount Carmel, joined the retreat. At one stage, Napoleon
considered leaving opium doses for the wounded and encouraging them to commit
suicide rather than fall into the hands of the avenging Turks. The gloomy
procession made its way south. In Jaffa they stayed awhile, to inflict upon it
total destruction, and on June 14
^th
the army entered Cairo in
triumph.”

“Triumph?” Luria was
nonplussed.

“Napoleon decided this
was a triumph. He could not afford failure. Neither his reputation nor his
deterrence capacity towards the Egyptians permitted it. He made sure the
soldiers got refreshed and received brand new uniforms, and then staged a big
parade. All in all, Napoleon lost a third of his men on this misguided
adventure. However, he was back in time to get ready for the British-Turkish
invasion he was expecting, and by the end of July he annihilated the Turkish
expeditionary force in what is known as the second battle of Abukir. A month later,
Napoleon left Egypt and sailed to France, never to return. He left behind him a
cut-off army with no supply lines, under the command of General Kléber. In
November of the same year, he assumed his rule over France.”

Eldad passed his gaze
over Jeanne and Luria like an actor finishing his piece and examining the
effect he had on his audience. “And this, in a nutshell, is the story of
Napoleon’s visit to this land,” he concluded on a dramatic note. “He stayed about
four months and left only death and destruction in his path, on top of a
humiliating military fiasco.”

Silence descended upon
the room for a while. Finally, Eldad turned to Jeanne. “The letters you showed
me are interesting,” he said, “but they do not present any new or yet-unknown
facts. Now, how can I help you?”

“Professor Eldad,” said
Jeanne, “you must have noticed in Gaston's letter that before his death, Pascal
wished to make sure his father received a certain package he had prepared for
him. This package never made it through.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have found the
journals of Pascal‘s father, Roland. He never got it."

“Do you have any idea
what that package contained?” wondered Eldad.

“A souvenir, perhaps,
that Pascal wanted his father to have.” Jeanne directed a quick glance at
Luria. “His efforts to make sure it got to his father in every scenario show
that he deemed it important, but I don’t really know, and I want to find it.”

The professor looked
incredulous. “You expect to find it now? After 200 years?”

“I know the chances are
slim, but I feel compelled to try. These findings may have a historical value,
but are even more important to me from the personal and family perspective.”

“I see,” said Eldad. “And
how do you plan to go about it?”

“There is the lead in
the letter I just showed you. I guess we can start there.”

“Lead? What lead?”

“Captain Bernard
Moreau. The man in whose hands the missing package was entrusted.”

“And what do you know
about him?”

“Captain Moreau did
return to France. Roland de Charney went to see him. He noted this in his journals.
He traveled to Bernard’s home to meet his son’s friend and, of course, to
retrieve the package Pascal had gone into such great lengths to send him.”

“Did the journals say
what he had expected to find?”

“Not a word about it.
It was just referred to as ‘the package’. One might suspect he consciously
avoided mentioning anything that would give away its content.”

“OK. But he did not
receive it. What happened?”

“Bernard did not have
it.”

“What do you mean he
did not have it? What did he say?” asked Eldad impatiently.

Jeanne sighed. “He did
not say anything. Bernard suffered cerebral damage and couldn’t even talk
intelligibly. Roland de Charney met an imbecile cripple who drooled and mumbled
incoherently. In his journal entry, Roland wrote that he considered himself
lucky compared to Bernard’s father, who had to see his beloved son reduced to
such a humiliating condition.”

“And the package?”
Eldad could not conceal his curiosity.

“It was never found.
The senior Moreau told Roland that Bernard had nothing on him when he arrived.”

“So where do you expect
to start looking for it?” The professor sounded disappointed.

“The last piece of
knowledge we have, locates this package in today’s Israel, outside the walls of
Acre, in the baggage of a wounded French staff officer…”

“Wait a moment,” said
Eldad, rising suddenly from his chair, excited. “I
can
think of a place
where a wounded French officer could have ended up. What is more natural than a
hospital?”

“A hospital? What
hospital?” wondered Jeanne.

It was beginning to
dawn on Luria.

“Stella Maris! The
monastery at the tip of Mount Carmel!” cried out the professor. “I told you
that the monastery served as the rear hospital for Napoleon’s army. There is a
very good chance that Bernard Moreau was treated there, though I doubt they
have records. The place was completely destroyed by the vengeful Turks.”

“This is a very good
idea!” Jeanne was now all fired up. “So we do have a starting point.” She
thought for a while. “The package might have been lost on the way to the
hospital, during the retreat to Egypt or during the sail back to France, but
yet, this is worth looking into. Thank you, Professor.”

Professor Eldad’s
reaction was alarming. He suddenly grew pale and dropped back in his chair.
“God Almighty,” he muttered.

Jeanne and Luria
exchanged worried glances. “What is it?” asked Jeanne. “Are you all right,
Professor?”

Eldad opened his mouth,
but nothing came out. He looked like a fish out of the water. Eventually, he
managed to speak. “What was in that package?” he croaked. “Are you telling me
the whole story?”

“Sure we are.” Luria
was puzzled. “What are you implying?”

Eldad slowly regained
control over himself. “I am asking myself,” he said quietly, “whether you
really do not understand or whether you are just pretending not to.”

“Understand what?”

“That this package may
have contained something, which somebody was willing to kill for!”

A hidden muscle
twitched in Luria’s face.

“What?” Jeanne was
alarmed. “What are you saying?”

Eldad smiled. It was
not a pleasant smile. “You may ask our friend here.” He gestured with his head
towards Luria. “He knows exactly what I am talking about.”

Jeanne turned her eyes
inquisitively to Luria, but he was not really there. He was daydreaming.

And it was a bad dream.

T
he ringing woke
Superintendent Yossi Luria up. He looked around in a stupor. On the other side
of the bed, Ella was wrapped up in her separate blanket, with only her red
curls visible on the pillow. He fumbled around until he found his mobile phone
and pressed it against his ear. “Luria,” he said tersely, looking at the
digital clock on the cabinet. The red digits read 03:33.

“Luria, this is Danny,”
said the voice on the other side. Danny was one of the more competent
detectives in Luria’s unit.

“What is it, Danny?”

“Sorry to wake you up
at this hour, sir. We have a homicide, and I am at the scene. I thought you
might want to know.”

Homicide; Luria was all
at once awake. “Yes. Sure, what happened?”

“The Stella Maris
Monastery, French Carmel.”

“Yes. I know the
place.”

“It’s one of the monks.
The body is still at the scene. Want me to wait for you?”

“Yes. I am on my way.”
Luria threw the blanket aside and jumped out of bed.

“What happened?” Ella
sat up, dazed, and looked at him.

“It’s a homicide. I
must go,” said Luria. “You can go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“Half past three. Just
go back to sleep.”

“I don’t know. I am not
sure I will fall asleep. I have an exam in the morning.”

He kissed her forehead.
“Try to sleep, honey.” The scent of her hair was sweet.

It was a cold night,
and he was trembling when he entered the bathroom. He rinsed his face and
stifled a yell as the ice-cold water hit him. He then brushed his teeth, looked
at the tired face in the mirror and decided to skip shaving. He went back to
the bedroom and quickly put something on. Finally, he wrapped himself in a
shapeless raincoat, shoved a flashlight into one of its pockets, and stepped out
into the wet night. After a ten-minute drive through Haifa’s dark and damp streets,
he arrived at the scene. From a distance, he could already see the flashing red
and blue lights of the police cars at the monastery entrance. He slid next to
them and stopped the car. Danny, in civilian clothes, was walking towards him
with a big umbrella and the two hurried into the monastery building.

“What happened here?”
asked Luria.

“Around two o’clock,
Control got a call from the Abbot, Father Rafael. It seems that at about 01:30,
Brother Michel, one of the monks, thought he heard noises coming from the main
building. He walked in there and found the library door open. The library was
lit by a small lamp, which was standing on the reading table. Peeping inside,
he saw somebody lying on the floor. The frightened Michel rushed to wake up
Father Rafael, and they both entered the library. They found Father Fernando
Diaz lying on the floor, his head in a pool of blood. They immediately called
for an ambulance and alerted the police. The man was most likely dead already.”

“Has anything been
taken?” asked Luria.

“I have asked Father
Rafael this very question. He claims nothing seems to be missing.”

“Security cameras?”

“A basic setup of four
cameras covers the exterior of the building, including the entrance. One of our
men is collecting the data as we speak.”

Luria nodded. “I see.
Let’s go in.”

The library was lit. At
its center stood a reading table surrounded by a few wooden benches. Near one
of the benches, the farthest from the door, Luria could see the body. Yellow tapes
marked the area and a small forensic team, a doctor and a police photographer,
were working quietly around the body. A young monk was staring at them; he
looked overwhelmed. Danny introduced him to Luria. “This is Brother Pedro. He
was asked by Father Rafael to help us. Brother Pedro, this is my chief,
Superintendent Luria.” They shook hands.

Luria and Danny then
approached the police team. A young man was putting a few instruments in his
bag. He closed it and was about to walk away, when his eyes met Luria’s.

“Hello, Doctor Nevo,” said
Luria.

“Luria!” Called out the
young man and immediately lowered his voice. “We must stop meeting like this.”

Luria smiled. From his
previous encounters with the doctor, he learned to appreciate his special brand
of humor as well as his professionalism. “What can you tell me, doctor?”

“Like I have already
told your man, this is a clear-cut case. The deceased was hit by a blunt
instrument, which was forcefully brought down the right side of the head, near
the right temple. He then collapsed, and the back of his neck hit the bench.
There is damage and bleeding from the head wound, but the cause of death is a
broken neck.”

“Blunt instrument?”

“The wound on the
temple could have been inflicted by a metal object, perhaps the handle of a
gun.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, it could have
been any hard object, but a gun handle would fit the size and shape of the
wound. I will have more details after the autopsy. This is all I have for the
time being.”

“Time of death?”
inquired Luria.

“About three hours
ago,” said Nevo. “Any more questions?”

Luria thought a while.
“No. Thanks Doctor. Good night.”

The doctor waved his
hand dismissively, apparently much in doubt whether this night would turn out
to be a particularly good one, and walked towards the exit.

Luria looked at Danny.

“We have searched the
place and found no such object,” said Danny.

Luria bent down and
knelt next to the body. The face of the dead monk rested on its left side, with
the visible right side covered in dried blood. He stood up and surveyed the area,
trying to take in the details. “What was the monk doing here when he was
attacked?” he wondered aloud. “This is a library, so he must have come here to
browse a book or something… Were there any books or documents on the table?”

Danny shook his head.
“We have found none.”

“Could he have heard a
noise, rushed in to see what happened and was then attacked?” Luria was
speculating.

“Unlikely,” said Danny.
“Look at the position of the body and at the blood on the bench. He was sitting
on the bench when he was attacked from behind. I believe he never knew what hit
him. He was knocked on the head, fell sideways, hit the bench and rolled over
to the floor.”

Luria looked again at
the bench and body. His man’s reasoning was sound. “OK,” he said, “suppose he
was already seated at the table. Where are the books he was supposed to be
browsing?” He pondered the issue a bit. “Perhaps he had not removed them from
the shelves as yet.”

Danny did not agree. “So
why was he sitting down? And look at what I have found.” He presented two small
sealed plastic bags. Inside one was a fountain pen; its cap was in the other.

“A fountain pen,”
observed Luria.

“I found the pen on the
floor near the body. The cap was on the table.”

Luria looked at him
appreciatively. “Then, our man was writing something.” Danny nodded.

“So something is
definitely missing in the scene; a sheet of paper, a notebook, a book perhaps?”

Danny nodded again.
Luria gazed at the walls and at the shelves that covered them. “If the
photographer and the forensics are finished, you can have the body removed,” he
said and Danny signaled the men, who were waiting not too far from them.

Luria walked slowly to
the shelves nearest to where they were standing and looked at them carefully.
He then pulled out the flashlight from his raincoat pocket and examined the
books on the shelves. He stood at the same spot for a long time, scanning all
the books. He then started walking slowly along the walls, examining the lines
of books standing on the shelves with his flashlight and occasionally stopping
for a closer look. Eventually, he returned to the spot where he had started and
signaled Danny to come over.

“Look at the books in
this row.” Luria focused his flashlight on one of the shelves. “Do you see
anything special?” Danny made an effort but had no idea what to look for. He
shook his head, feeling embarrassed.

“Take a look at these
five volumes,” Luria directed his flashlight at the row of books on the
right-hand side of the shelf.

Danny looked again.
“They are protruding a bit, sticking out compared to the other books on the
shelf,” he observed.

“Very good,” said Luria.
“Now, take a closer look and note the dust layer on these volumes. You can
clearly see that while the other books are covered with a more or less uniform
layer of dust, on these specific volumes, dust is conspicuously missing in
places. Can you see the marks of fingers and a palm? Somebody has touched these
volumes recently.”

Danny whistled in
wonder. “You are right. And you think these are the books the monk had been
browsing tonight.”

“Perhaps,” said Luria,
“but this is not the whole story.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you told me
there were no documents on the table when you arrived here, and we also agreed
that the monk was working at the time he was attacked. With this in mind, I
find it hard to believe that after having been fatally hit, he stood up, put
the books back on the shelf, and returned to lie down at the same spot.”

Danny blushed and felt
like a complete idiot.

“But before we take a
look at these volumes, which may have interested the late Father Fernando,” added
Luria. “I would like forensics to take a look at them.”

Danny went to get the
forensics man, while Luria kept on eyeing the shelf with interest. Danny came
back with the technician, explained to him what they wanted him to do and the
two detectives watched him put on his latex gloves and carefully dust the
visible back of the volumes. “There are some neat prints here,” said the
technician when he was finished. “Now we can hunt for some more data.” He
started carefully retrieving the volumes and arranging them on the table. When
he got to the third one, he froze, his eyes fixed on the wall that could now be
seen behind. “And what have we got here?” He exclaimed eventually, letting out
a low whistle.

Luria used his
flashlight to probe. On the wall, above the shelf, they could see a small metal
door with a dial mounted on it - a safe. Luria and Danny exchanged glances.
“Look for fingerprints on this door,” said Luria.

They waited for the
technician to remove and scan all the volumes and then a few more minutes as he
worked on the safe. When all was done, Luria put the volumes back in place.
“Now,” he told Danny. “Please ask Father Rafael and Brother Michel to step in.”

In his eighties, Father
Rafael was a highly recognized Israeli figure, whose life story got him
countless articles in the press and a best-seller biography. He was born to a
Jewish-Polish family. When the German onslaught began in 1939, he escaped as a
boy into the Soviet occupied part of Poland. When in 1941 the Germans invaded
the Soviet Union, he fled with false papers and worked as a translator for the Vilna
police which cooperated with the Germans. From this position, young Rafael
managed to forewarn the Vilna Ghetto residents about a number of police raids,
and smuggled in guns and false ID documents. Having been exposed, he ran away and
found shelter in a monastery, where he converted to Christianity. After the war
he joined the Carmelites, with the intention to arrive at a monastery in Israel.
Fifteen years later his request was approved, and he was also awarded Israeli
citizenship.

The two monks were now
facing the two detectives. Brother Michel was evidently unsettled, shooting
frightened glances at his superior, who once in a while laid a hand on the
young monk’s shoulder to calm him down. Occasionally, Brother Michel would turn
his head, look at the blood stains on the floor and quickly turn his head back.
Father Rafael, on the other hand, was in full control and looked calm. Luria
was impressed with the quiet power emanating from the old man, whom he had
heard so much about but never met before. Danny introduced Luria to the two
monks.

“I would like to
express my condolences for the loss you have suffered tonight,” Luria spoke to
Father Rafael in Hebrew. “I assure you the police will do all within its power
to find out what happened and bring the perpetrators to justice.”

Father Rafael nodded.

“It must have been a
terrible night for you, and we will not bother you more than necessary. We
already have your statements of what happened here tonight, but I would like to
ask you again whether anything has been taken from this room. Are there any
valuables that could have attracted a burglar? Perhaps an object that might have
been valuable to some collectors?”

“Superintendent Luria,”
Father Rafael spoke fluent Hebrew in a warm though somewhat quivering voice. “As
I have told your colleague, this room contains nothing but books. In the
monastery church, there are ritual objects with some artistic value, but nobody
seems to have been there tonight. Nevertheless, we checked and nothing seems to
be missing. Same goes for this room. We’ll do a more thorough check in the morning,
but I don’t believe anything has been taken.”

“If this was an
attempted robbery,” said Luria, “we would like to know what drew the burglar
here.”

“Couldn’t it have been
a random burglar?” wondered Father Rafael. “Couldn’t somebody have broken in
with the hope of finding some valuables, before being interrupted by poor
Father Fernando?”

Luria took a few steps
and stopped near the shelf with the volumes concealing the safe. He glanced at
Father Rafael’s face to see his response. The old man stayed perfectly calm.
Luria extended his hand and slowly pulled out the volumes, one by one, still
watching the two monks. Brother Michel was looking at his superior, obviously
alarmed. Father Rafael did not respond, but Luria imagined he saw a flicker of
a smile in his somber eyes. After the volumes had been removed, the safe became
visible. “And what is this?” asked Luria.