Triple (43 page)

VUPLE

She wished she could think of a way to explain all that to her father.

She knew that he disapproved of Israelis. Dickstein was an old student, and

her father had been genuinely pleased to see him and prepared to overlook

the fact that the old student was on the enemy side. But now she planned to

make Dickstein a permanent p.~rt of her life, a member of the family. His

letter said "Forever is what I want," and Suza could hardly wait to tell

him, "Oh, yes; me, too."

She, thought both sides were in the wrong in the Middle But The plight of

the refugees was unjust and pitiful, but she thought they ought to set

about making themselves new homes-it was not easy, but it was easier than

war, and she despised the theatrical heroics which so many Arab men found

irresistible. On the other hand, it was clear that the whole damn mess was

originally the fault of the Zionists, who had taken over a country that

belonged to other people. Such a cynical view had no appeal for her father,

who saw Right on one side and Wrong on the other, and the beautiful ghost

of his wife on the side of Right

It would be hard for him. She had long ago scotched his dreams of walking

up the aisle with his daughter beside him in a white wedding dress; but he

still talked occasionally of her setding down and giving him a

granddaughter. The idea that this grandchild might be Israeli would come as

a terrible blow.

SO, that was the price of being a parent, Suza thought as she entered the

house. She called, "Daddy, I'm home," as she took off her coat and put down

her airline bag. There was no reply, but his briefcase was in the hall: he

must be in the garden. She,put the kettle on and walked out of the kitchen

and down toward the river, still searching in her mind for the right words

with which to tell him her news. Maybe she should begin by talking about

her trip, and gradually work around-

She heard voices as she approached the hedge.

"And what will you do with him?" It was her father's voice.

Suza stopped, wondering whether she ought to interrupt or not.

"Just follow him," said another voice, a strange one. "Dickstein must not

be killed until afterwards, of course."

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She put her band over her mouth to stifle a gasp of horror. Then,

terrified, she turned around and ran, soft-footed, back to the house.

"Well, now," said Professor Ashford, "following what we might call the

Rostov Method, let us recall everything we know about Nat Dickstein."

Do it any way you want, Hassan thought, but for Gods sake come up with

something.

Ashford went on: "He was born in the East End of London. His father died

when he was a boy. What about the motherr

"Shies dead, too, according to our files."

"Ah. Well, he went into the army midway through the war-1943, I think it

was. Anyway he was in time to be part of the attack on Sicily. He was

taken prisoner soon afterward, about halfway up the leg of Italy, I can't

remember the place. It was rumored-you'll remember this, I'm sure-that

he had a particularly bad time in the concentration camps, being Jewish.

After the war he came here. He-~

"Sicily," Hassan interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Sicily is mentiobed in his file. He is supposed to have been involved

in the theft of a boatload of guns. Our people had bought the guns from

a gang of criminals in Sicily."

"If we are to believe what we read in the newspapers," said Ashford,

"there is only one gang of criminals in Sicily."

Hassan added, "Our people suspected that the hijackers had bribed the

Sicilians for a tip-off."

"Wasn"t it Sicily where he saved that man's life?"

Hassan wondered what Ashford was talking about He controlled his

impatience, thinking: Let him ranible-thaes the whole idea. "He saved

someone's life?"

"The American. Don't you remember? Ive never forgotten it Dickstein

brought the man here. A rather brutish G.I. He told me the whole story,

right here at this house. Now were getting somewhere. You must have met

the man, you were here that day, don't you remember?"

"I can't say I do," Hassan muttered. He was embarrassed

. he had probably been in the kitchen feeling Eila up.

"It was . . . unsettling," Ashford said. He stared at the slowly moving

water as his mind went back twenty years, and

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his face was shadowed by sadness for a moment, as if he were remembering

his wife. 17hen he said, "Here we all were, a gathering of academics and

students, probably discussing atonal music or eidstentialism while we

sipped our sherry, when in came a big soldier and started talking about

snipers and tanks and blood and death. it cast a real chill: thafs why I

recall it so clearly. He said his family originated in Sicily, And his

cousins had fated Dickstein after the life-saving incident Did you say a

Sicilian gang had tipped off Dickstein, about the boatland of guns?"

"It's possible, that's all."

"Perhaps he didn't have to bribe them."

Hassan shook his head. This was information, the kind of trivial

information Rostov always seemed to make something of-but how was he

going to use it? "I don't see what use all this is going to be to us,"

he said. "How could Dickstein's ancient hijack be connected with the

Mafia?"

"The Mafia," said Ashford. "Mat's the word I was looking for. And the

mazes name wag Cortone-Tony Cortone-no, Al Cortone, from Buffalo. I told

you, I remember every detail."

"But the connectionT' Hassan said impatiently.

Ashford shrugged. "Simply this. Once before , Dickstein used his

connection with Cortone to call on the Sicilian Mafia for help with an

act of piracy in'the Mediterranean. People repeat their youth, you know:

he may do the same thing again."

Hassan began to see: and, as enlightenment dawned, so did hope. It was

a long shot, a guess, but it made sense, the chance was real, maybe he

could catch up with Dickstein again.

Ashford looked pleased with himself "It's a nice piece of speculative

reasoning-1 wish I could publish it, -with footnotes.",

"I wonder," said Hassan longingly. "I wonder."

"It's getting cool, let's go into the house."

As they walked up the garden Hassan thought fleetingly that he had not

learned to be Me Rostov; he had merely found in Ashford a substitute.

Perhaps his former proud independence had gone forever. There was

something unmanly ,about it. He wondered if the other Fedayeen felt the

same way, and if that was why they were so bloodthirsty.

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Ashford said, 'The trouble is, I don't suppose Cortone will tell you

anything, whatever he knows."

.Would he tell you?"

"Why should he? HaT hardly remember me. Now, if Eila were alive, she could

have gone to see him and told him somestory...99

Vell . . .- Hassan wished Eila would stay out of the conversation. ITU

haveto try myself."

They entered the house. Stepping into the kitchen, they saw Suza; and then

they looked at each other and know they had found the answer.

By the time the two men came into the house Suza had almost convinced

herself that she had been mistaken when, in the garden, she thought she

heard them talk about killing Nat Dickstein. It was simply unreal: the

garden, the river, the autumn sunshine, a professor and his guest ...

murder had no place there, the whole idea was fantastic, like a polar bear

in the Sahara Desert. Besides, there was a very good psycbological

explanation for her mistake: she had been planning to tell her father that

she loved Dickstein, and she had been afraid of his reaction-Freud could

probably have predicted that at that point she might well imagine her

father plotting to kill herlover.

Because she nearly believed this reasoning, she was able to smile brightly

at them and say, "Who wants coffee? rve just made some."

Her father kissed bw cheek. "I didn7t realize you were back, my dear."

"I just arrived, I was thinking of coming out to look for you." Why am I

telling these lies?

"You don't know Yasif Hassan-he was one of my students when you were very

small."

Hassan kissed her hand and stared at her the way people always did when

they had known Eila. "Yotere every bit as beautiful as your mother," he

said, and his voice was not flirtatious at all, not even Battering: it

sounded amazed.

Her father said, "Yasif was here a few months ago, shortly after a

contemporary of his visited us-Nat Dickstein. You met Dickstein, I think,

but you were away by the time Yasif came."

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"Was there any oonnee-connectionr she asked, and silently cursed her

voice for cracking on the last word.

The two men looked at one another, and her father said, "Matter of fact,

there was."

And then she knew it was true, she had riot misheard, they really were

going to kill the only man she had ever loved. She felt dangerously close

to tears, and turned away from them to fiddle with cups and saucem

"I want to ask You to -do something, my dear," said her father.

"Something very important, for the sake of your mother's memory. Sit

down." -

No more, she thought; this ean!t get worse, please.

She took a deep breath, turned around, and sat down fac. ing him.

He said, "I want you to help Yasif here to find Nat Dickstein."

From that moment she hated her father. She knew then suddenly, instantly,

that his love for her was fraudulent, that he had never seen her as a

person, that he used her as he had used her mother. Never again would she

take care of him, serve him; never apm would she worry about how he felt,

whether he was lonely, what he needed ... She realized, in the same flash

of insight and hatred, that her mother had reached this same point with

him, at some time; and that she would now do what Ma had done, and

despise him.

Ashford continued, 'Mere is a man in America who may know where Dickstein

is. I want you to go there with Yasif and ask this man.11

She said nothing. Hassan took her blankness for incomPrehension, and

began to explain. "You see, this Dickstein is an Israeli agent, working

against our people. We must stop him. Cortone-the man in Buffalo-may be

helping him, and if he is he will not help us. But he will remember your

mother, and so he may cooperate with you. You could tell him that you and

Dickstein are lovers."

"Ha-hah!" Su2Ws laugh was faintly hysterical, and she hoped they would

assume the wrong reasons for it. She controlled herself, and managed to

become numb, to keep her body still and her face expressionless, while

they told her about the yellowcake, and the man aboard the Coparelli, and

the radio beacon on the Stromberg, and about Mahmoud and his hijack plan,

and how much it would an mean for the

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Palestine liberation movement; and at the end she was numb, she no longer

had to pretend.

Finally her father said, "So, my dea4 will you help? Win you do it?"

With an effort of self-control that astonished her, she gave them a

bright air-hostess smile, got up from her stool, and said, "TVs a lot to

take in in one go, isn't it? I'll think about it while rin in the bath."

And she went out.

It all sank In, gradually, as she lay in the hot water with a locked door

between her and them.

So this was the thing that Nathaniel had to do before be could see her

again: steal a ship. And then, he had said, he would not let her out of

his sight for ten or fifteen years .

Perhaps that meant he could give up this work.-

But, of course, none of his plans was going to succeed, because his

enemies knew all about them. This Russian planned to rain Nat's ship, and

Hassan planned to steal the ship first and ambush Nat. Either way

Dickstein was in danger; either way they wanted to destroy him. Suza

could warn him.

If only she knew where he was.

How little those men downstairs knew about herl Hassan simply assumed,

just like an Arab male chauvinist pig, that she would do as she was told.

Her father assumed she would take the Palestinian side, because he did

and he was the brains of the family. He had never known what was in his

daughter's mind: for that matter, he had been the same with his wife.

Eila had always been able to deceive him: he never suspected that she

might not be what she seemed.

When Suza realized what she had to do, she was terrified all over again.

There was, after all, a way she might find Nathaniel and warn him.

"Find Nat" was what they wanted her to do.

She knew she could deceive them, for they already aisumed she was on

their side, when she was not.

So she could do what they wanted. She could find Natand then she could

warn him.

Would she be making things worse? To find him herself, she had to lead

them to him.

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