“Does any of this sound familiar? It ought to. It is the story of Judas, or at least a version of it, after all. Even his name Iscariot is interpreted by some scholars as a Hellenized transformation of sicarius. The suffix -ot could be interpreted as denoting his belonging to the Sicarii. Of course, it’s only a theory, but it is a theory that is supported by the knowledge that Menahem ben Jair and his brother Eleazar, the last known leaders of the Sicarii, were the grandsons of Judas. And, interestingly enough, the brothers died together at Masada in AD 73 when the entire sect committed mass suicide rather than be captured by the Romans. So why wouldn’t Masada be the perfect place for the first Disciple of Judas to be reborn? There’s a certain sick symmetry to it.” He shook his head.
Orla didn’t really understand half of what he had said. She had stopped listening halfway through when something the toad had said had derailed her train of thought. Something wasn’t right about this.
“Mabus has been their mouthpiece for the last five years. He is the one obsessed with taking terror to a new level in this country. He makes hate films and distributes them via the Internet. They call it Viral Fear. In them he claims responsibility for attacks in Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Gaza and along the West Bank. He taunts us openly. He goads our investigators as we hunt his people. Last year they instigated a one-of-them-one-of-us policy.
“After we captured their two men, they snatched two of my men, good men, and showed their beheadings on the Internet. It makes me sick what this man does. I watch the filth he spreads, and it makes me want to crush his windpipe with my bare hands, Miss Nyren. As I am sure you appreciate, I am not a violent man. For Mabus I would make an exception. For Mabus, I would get blood on my hands. What frightens me most, though, is not the films or the beheadings-we all know the risks when we enter this line of work. No, what frightens me most is he knows us; he knows how we think, because he was one of us.”
Orla understood that all too well. No one wanted an enemy who shared their mindset and knew the ins and outs of their protocols. It meant he could anticipate every response, every action, and compensate for it. It wasn’t just that it gave him an advantage; it was as though he could reach into their minds and pluck out each and every measure and countermeasure even before the first strike had been made. It made their enemy omnipotent. Godlike. But what she didn’t understand was how the toad knew it was him.
Gavrel Schnur reached down and opened one of the drawers in the pedestal legs of his desk. He pulled out a dossier marked “Mabus.” He flipped it open and laid it down on the desk between them. “We never found the man responsible for my old friend’s death,” the toad said. “But now,”-he tapped the photograph on the table with a thick stubby finger-“I think we have. I think I am finally beginning to understand a lot of things that have bothered me for a long time, Miss Nyren, and for that I thank you.
“Now, I believe I have upheld my end of the bargain and told you all we know of the Shrieks.” He pushed the folder across the table toward her. “It should prove interesting reading, if nothing else. This is every last scrap of information we have gathered on Mabus and his people. It’s yours. I wasn’t sure what arrangements had been made for your stay, so I took the liberty of booking a junior suite for you at the Dan Tel Aviv. It’s one of the nicest hotels in the city, with a stunning view of the water. And I really do mean stunning. I’m not just quoting a line from the sales brochure.” He chuckled at that. “I don’t know about you, but I appreciate a little space when I travel.” The toad cupped both sides of his pendulous belly with his hands and wobbled it. It was an oddly self-deprecating gesture. “But, don’t get me wrong, there’s ng quite so enjoyable as a little bit of indulgence, either.
“Take the dossier, digest it. There is much in there. I will arrange for Sokol to collect you in the morning. If there’s anything you don’t understand, or want to go over, we’ll pick it up tomorrow. How does that sound?”
Orla took the folder from the table and slipped it straight into her bag, as though she was afraid he might change his mind and take it away from her. She couldn’t imagine someone in a similar position in MI5 making the same offer. Perhaps she had misjudged the toad? “That is most considerate of you,” she said. “All of it. Obviously I hadn’t had the chance to think about where I was going to sleep tonight, so thank you. A bit of pampering is exactly what the doctor ordered.”
“Think nothing of it. You have flown a long way to solve the riddle of my friend’s murder. It is the least I can do to thank you. I am told the shiatsu massage is to die for. I wouldn’t know, personally. It has been a long time since I allowed anyone to touch my body.” His eyes momentarily drifted toward the model car on the bookshelf.
She understood.
She started to stand, realizing that her meeting with the toad was over.
“One last thing, if you would,” Gavrel Schnur said, looking up at her. “Before you go, perhaps you might tell me why this thorn in my side was prickly enough to draw you to my city?”
He’s good, she thought. He’d saved his fishing expedition until the very last moment and she was on her way out of the door. It was all about catching her off balance. She continued to rise, pushing the chair out behind her. The chair legs grated on the floor. She smiled at the sound; it was a petty rebellion that said he wasn’t going to get it all his own way. Gavrel Schnur wanted to know what they knew. It was as simple as that. He’d revealed their hand, and now, to continue the poker analogy, he was calling her.
She wasn’t about to lay all of her cards on the table though, not yet. Nothing had changed since she walked in to the toad’s lair. In this world information was still hard currency. It was that simple. He might have just given her a small fortune, or he might have tried to pass off a few counterfeit notes. Without checking out the file Orla had no way of knowing. Of course, to sell her the deal, he was pressing for something in return now. He didn’t want to wait. Quid pro quo.
“Let me read this tonight,” Orla tapped her bag. She kept her voice neutral, light, and made sure she didn’t allow her doubts to creep into her tone. She didn’t want to offend the toad, but neither did she want to tell him everything that she knew.
She reached the door and turned back toward the fat man, deciding, as her hand closed around the door handle, to offer him a little something to whet his enormous appetite. “We believe that this man you call Mabus could be behind the deaths of those people in the photograph with him.” She didn’t say how they had died, or what it was about their deaths that had brought it to Sir Charles’ attention. If Gavrel was as good as she suspected, he already knew and was just looking for confirmation. That, too, was the nature of information in this clandestine world of deceit, half-truths, shadows and eavesdropping. “It’s a link we are very interested in following up. When we get together tomorrow perhaps we can compare notes?”
“I’d like that very much, Miss Nyren,” the toad said.
18
Orla didn’t check into the junior suite at the Dan Tel Aviv.
There was something about the offer that just didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t put her finger on why it felt off, but try as she might she couldn’t imagine a British spy-master being so considerate or so extravagant. That was enough for her.
Instead she crossed the port and used her “flexible friend” to check into the Dan Panorama.
She had no luggage, but the porter insisted on accompanying her all the way to the room, then held his hand out expectantly. She tipped the guy, apologizing that she didn’t have any local currency. He assured her it wasn’t a problem. The air conditioning was on, and the TV screen welcomed her to the Dan Panorama and hoped she enjoyed her stay. The wide windows looked out over the crystal blue water. The balcony door was half open and inviting. She went out onto it and stood there for a full five minutes, hands braced on the balcony rail, just drinking in the incredible view.