"What did you do then?"
He hesitated, which made me even more curious to hear what he had to say. What could be more damaging to his prospects than what he'd already admitted to?
"I knew Moria and Baruch did not get along. That they barely spoke, hardly saw each other. Rumor was she hated his guts, wanted nothing to do with him, while he was desperate to fix that. I thought I'd take advantage of both those emotions."
"How?"
"I explained to Moria that I could arrange things so her father would lose his investment while I made it big. She could help. Help cause him serious pain."
"You were trying to involve her in a fraud scheme," I said.
His eyes flashed. "Don't look at me like I'm something that got stuck to your shoe. You think your client is a saint? You know how many backs he's stabbed, how many partners he's used and discarded? He deserves to be on the receiving end for once. And what I planned was totally legal. Dirty, maybe, but legal."
"What did Moria say?"
"She wouldn't go for it. I tried to persuade her several times, but she wouldn't budge."
"What happened that day when she screamed at you in the street?"
"That was the last time I saw her. I followed her home from the hospital, tried again to get her to help me with her father. When we got to her street, I said to her, 'Don't you want to get back at him for what he did to your mother?' That's when she exploded on me."
I could imagine the scene, this snake pouring poison in Moria's ear, dredging up her traumatic past for his own greed. It's a wonder she didn't slap him.
"You know Moria was the one who found her mother dead?" I asked.
"Yes." His tone was flat, as though he didn't see the point of my question.
"You had to know how difficult that was for her. Yet you still used it to try to get her to do your bidding."
"I thought she'd jump at it. Baruch pushed her mother to suicide, for God's sake. That's what everyone says. I was offering her a way to get some payback."
While making yourself rich in the process, I thought with disgust. Arye Harpaz didn't care about Moria, a traumatized young woman whom he'd planned on exploiting for his benefit. He didn't care how being reminded of her mother's death made her feel. Nor did he give a second's thought to what betraying her father would do to her. Arye Harpaz cared only for himself.
Harpaz guessed none of my thoughts. He was too busy blurting out more of his own. "They say he was seeing women on the side, the ugly, bald pig. Though who they were, I don't know." He looked at me with sudden interest. "Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Know the names of the women Baruch had affairs with?"
"No, I don't."
"But you could find out, right? You're a detective. I'll pay you well."
"Why do you care who they are?" But the answer came to me before he could speak. "You think one of them will have information you can use to force Gafni to invest in your business."
He smiled. A devil's smile. Perfect white teeth. Made to fool people.
"I tried finding out myself back at the time, but couldn't. Maybe all the women were married and were keeping their mouths shut."
Or maybe he was going to prostitutes, I thought. The affairs were just a more socially palatable cover.
"Will you do it?" he asked. "Will you find out for me?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to. It's not the sort of case I investigate."
He nodded a couple of times, muttering, "Fine, fine, all right." Then a cunning light shone in his eyes; he produced a fat wallet and counted out a hundred and fifty liras. "For you. To not tell Baruch anything we talked about tonight, and to tell him you were wrong about me and Moria being lovers."
I shook my head.
He sighed. "How much? You need to be reasonable."
"You don't have to pay me anything to say nothing about tonight."
"So take the money and just clear up what you already said about me and Moria."
"No. Because I don't believe you. You're a liar, Mr. Harpaz. You use people to further your own ends, and you don't care what it costs them. I think you did have an affair with Moria, and I'm not going to betray my client and lie for you, understand?"
He stared at me incredulously. "Five hundred liras. That's my last offer, Mr. Lapid."
It was a good one. The sort of money that could tide me over for a long while. But I wasn't tempted. Not when it came from him.
"It doesn't matter how much you offer me. The answer would still be no."
He grabbed my coat. "You can't do this to me. Not to me."
"You did it to yourself." I pushed him off me and turned for the door. I was done here.
The shattering of glass alerted me to what was coming. I ducked and whirled, and the jagged bottle end streaked over my head. If Harpaz had been smarter, he would have hit me with the full bottle. Then he might have caught me by surprise.
I punched him hard. Right on the nose. There was a satisfying crunch, and then he was on the floor, moaning incoherently, blood streaming over his face.
I stood over him, breathing hard. "There's more where that came from if you ever try something like that again."
The door to the room smashed against a wall. There was the barkeep again, knife in hand. Behind him was the solitary customer, brawny and glowering.
"What the hell?" the barkeep growled.
"Mr. Harpaz attacked me and got more than he bargained for. He could use a doctor," I said. "I'll be heading off."
"Like hell you will. He's a valued customer; you, I never met before today."
"I'm just a guy who defended himself and now wants to leave. So step aside. I don't want any more trouble."
"You gonna let him talk to you that way, Mendel?" the customer said, clearly drunk beyond good sense. "In your own place?"
Mendel glared. "You make trouble in my place, you damage my reputation. You need to pay for that."
"Or else?"
"Or Mendel will cut you up some, and I'll help," said the customer, flashing crooked teeth. "And we'll take what's coming to us from your wallet, like it or not."
I nodded slowly. My fingers ached from slugging Harpaz. My ribs were full of stabbing pain from putting my body behind the punch. This had to end quickly and without more violence.
I pulled out the gun. Pointed it straight at Mendel's face. "Drop the knife and kick it here."
His face turned white, and he complied. I stepped on the blade and turned the gun on the equally stunned customer.
"You got something to say?"
He shook his head and raised his hands. Decent of him to stick them up without my asking.
"Step inside. Both of you. Go sit on those chairs there."
They obeyed. They looked like misbehaved pupils awaiting their headmaster's ruler.
Harpaz, his mouth ringed by a beard of red, raised himself on his elbows and gave me a look of abject hatred. "I'll get you for this, Lapid. I'll get you."
"You'll have to get in line," I said, not bothering to point the gun at him. To the other two, I added, "I'm going to walk out now. I'll close this door behind me. Count to five hundred and only then come out. And if I ever see either of you two again..."
I pulled the trigger.
The bullet blasted a chunk of floor near their feet. They both jumped with a yelp. The report echoed around the small room, and the air stank of spent gunpowder and blood.
I walked backward until I passed through the door and then slammed it shut. I hurried out. I didn't think they'd come after me, but you can never know with fools and drunks.
36
It was raining with rage, and I was glad. The heavy downpour had probably muffled most of the report.