Deeply set and utterly black, those eyes caught the light and smothered it, creating the illusion of great, impenetrable depth, with something baleful lurking just under the surface. A maniac's eyes. The eyes of a man who would not think twice before hurting another person. I'd seen such eyes before, as a policeman and in Auschwitz.
I'd have to fight him. I wasn't about to let him shoot me where I stood. But I did not like my odds. I'd seen how fast he was. The instant I moved, he would fire. Judging by those eyes and the hatred on his face, it was a wonder he hadn't shot me already.
Just then, a familiar, agitated voice sounded, "Amiram, Amiram, what the hell? What are you doing?"
Meir Gadot, his shirttail only half tucked in his trousers, hurried into the light with short, snappy steps. A chubby, moon-faced man with blubbery lips and blotchy cheeks, he looked from me to his cousin with wide, darting eyes.
"What are you doing?" he said again. "What's with the gun?"
"It's some kind of trick," Amiram said, not taking his eyes off me. "This man said he was Lapid."
"He is Lapid," Meir said.
Amiram flicked an angry glance at his cousin. "Then you're a goddamn fool for bringing him here, Meir. He's a cop."
"He's not a cop," Meir said, waving his hands side to side for emphasis.
"He is. I knew it the minute I looked at his face. I can always tell. Hell, I can smell their putrid stench too." And as if to prove it, he sniffed loudly and made a disgusted face. "I'm not going to prison again, Meir. I told you that already."
"Put the gun away, Amiram. I tell you, he's not a cop. He was one, but not anymore."
Amiram narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, was?"
"He was a cop once, but he hasn't been one for a while. Ask him; he'll tell you."
Amiram snorted at this, but then he said to me, "All right, what's your story?"
So I told him about my being a policeman in Hungary before the war, and that I'd stopped being one over ten years ago.
"You've never worked for the police here in Israel?"
I shook my head.
"Not even when the British were in charge?"
"No."
Another glance at Meir. "How do we know he's telling the truth?"
"He was vouched for, Amiram. And he's worked for me before. He's okay. Trust me."
Still Amiram hesitated, slowly running a thin tongue over his bloodless lips, like he was sampling the taste of imminent violence and was reluctant to let this opportunity for bloodshed pass. Then, with a look of childish disappointment, he lowered the gun and gave me a grin that was all teeth and no warmth.
"No hard feelings, right?"
It took a couple of breaths before my chest no longer felt constricted, before my skin regained some heat, before my heart stopped pounding. I shook my head slowly, a rush of relief making me slightly dizzy.
I looked a question at Meir, hoping my face showed none of the rage that was quickly replacing my subsiding fear.
"Amiram's my cousin," Meir said. "We're working together now."
"You never told me about this," I said.
Meir shrugged. "It's a new development."
I turned to Amiram. "How long have you been out?"
A raised eyebrow. "Six days. How could you tell?"
"What Meir just said. And what you said before about not going back to prison. And you're pale, like you didn't get enough sun for a long while."
"Two and a half years," he said. "Two and a half goddamn years."
"Adam's a private investigator," Meir said, the blotches on his cheeks fading now that the tense moment had passed. "That's why I hired him."
Amiram flashed me a crooked smile. "So now you work for criminals like us?"
"Like Meir," I said, letting my anger get the better of me. "You, I haven't decided yet."
His smile vanished. His jaw clenched so hard I would not have been surprised to hear it crack. The fingers holding the gun flexed around the grip.
Meir's blotches were flaring again. "Come on now, you two. Let's all be friends here, all right?"
"I don't think he wants that," Amiram said.
"You're the one with a gun in your hand," I said.
He glanced down at it, then back up at me, smirking. "Yeah, and don't you forget it."
For ten seconds, no one spoke. The only sound was Meir's heavy breathing. The air smelled of dust and old wood, but mostly of the rage-and-fear-induced sweat of all three of us. Meir was sweating the most, his forehead dripping. He mopped a hand across his brow, but that didn't seem to help much.
"Put the gun away, will you, Amiram?" he said.
"No. I think I'll keep holding it for now. Just in case I need it."
But I didn't think he was going to use it. Not anymore. He might have wanted to, but being out for only six days meant that Meir was the guy in charge, not him. For now, at least.
"All right. All right. Just keep calm. You got something for me, Adam?"
"Yes," I said. "Why don't we talk in private?"
"We're partners," Amiram told me. "Or haven't you figured that out by now?"
"Meir is the one who hired me, so I'll talk to him and no one else." I gave Meir a look. "Your call."
Meir bit his fat lower lip. His cheeks were blazing red now. He looked pleadingly at me, but when he saw I wasn't about to budge, he let out a deep sigh and addressed his cousin. "Let me talk to Adam alone, all right?"
Amiram glared at him. "What the hell, Meir?"
"Just for a few minutes. I'll tell you everything afterward."
Amiram's features knotted in fury, but then he shrugged as if it didn't matter to him one bit. "Fine by me. I can use some fresh air anyway. It stinks in here. Smells of cop." Then he stuck his gun under his jacket, smoothed the lapels, and began sauntering to the door, draping himself in a thick pretense of indifference. I noticed he moved lighter than a cat, sort of gliding along, almost as if his feet weren't really touching the ground. His footfalls were no louder than whispers. Neither Meir nor I spoke until we heard the door bang shut after him.
Meir wiped his brow again, this time with a hairy forearm. "You didn't need to do that, Adam."
"He shouldn't have pulled a gun on me."
"Amiram's a bit itchy now. Just getting out and all."
"That kind of itchiness could get him in serious trouble. Along with anyone who's working with him. What are you doing partnering with someone like that?"
"Not partnering. It's my operation, same as always. He's working for me."
"Uh-huh. You didn't answer my question. Why are you involved with a man like that?"
"He's my cousin," Meir said. "I owe him. He watched over me a lot when we were kids. Saved my hide a couple of times. He's not so bad, Adam. That bit with the gun, just a misunderstanding. Don't judge him by that."
"That's the kind of misunderstanding that leaves people dead. What did he do time for?"
"Burglary."
"Hurt anyone in the process?"
"No. No one."
"What about when he was locked up before?"
Meir stared at me. "What makes you think he was?"
"A guy like that, with his attitude, at his age, it's a safe bet."
"Nothing big. Robbed a few more apartments, caught fencing what he stole. The man can pop just about any lock in twenty seconds flat and not leave a mark."
"That's nice. Anything violent?"
Meir shook his head, but the way his blotches darkened made me think that while Amiram might not have been convicted of a violent crime, Meir had seen him hurt others before. Perhaps as part of watching over Meir in his childhood.
And now I had a decision to make. Whether to tell Meir what I'd uncovered in my investigation. If I kept it to myself, I'd have to return the money he'd already paid me, and forfeit the remainder I still had coming. But if that meant not giving his gun-wielding cousin a target to lash at, it was a price I was willing to pay.