A Minister in a Box Page 5

  - I’d like to bring up a special issue in the framework of our meeting today,” Assaf said in one of the committee’s conferences. “Seeing as this is a complex matter, I allow myself to elaborate more than usual. This concerns Jeronti, a country where Israel has vast interests. Jeronti has enormous reserves of oil, on top of other natural resources, some strategically important. The country’s problems stem from its social and religious structure: some thirty-six different tribes. Being a former British colony, English is their common language, but it’s pretty much the only thing they have in common. Jeronti’s population is equally divided between Christians and Muslims. There is a great deal of bad blood between them. The relations between Jeronti and Israel have had their ups and downs, primarily due to the tribal and religious wars there. The ministry of foreign affairs has been scrambling to operate there. Most often, difficulties stem from a conflict of interest. Mossad has a station in Jeronti. We recently came across an opportunity to expand our operations there. I would like to highlight the application we received from one of the leaders of the largest militias in Jeronti. He wants to enroll at our intelligence school. He is a Muslim, and is also opposing the central government. We shy away from intervening in any country’s internal strife. Nevertheless, we have information according to which this militia is about to seize control of Jeronti, so mustn’t miss this opportunity of forging closer relations with this country.”

  And so, the committee voted unanimously in favor of admitting Mkume Shibu into the Mossad’s program.

  *

  That has been one of the school’s most festive graduation parties. Each cadet was asked to show up wearing their national costume. Assaf himself put in an appearance in the guise of a kibbutznik, having exhausted all his creativity on secret missions. He had on khaki shorts, a Russian-farmer’s shirt and open sandals. He even sported a bucket hat and a false mustache befitting Stalin, much to the delight of his students, who could not help wondering whether other Israeli secret agents had the same get-ups in mind during their actual missions.

  Shibu got hold of the mic at the end of the party. Tall and handsome, wearing a white robe with golden threads and a white headdress, he greeted the Mossad and gave a toast, praising Assaf Shlomi in person. He concluded his tribute with “Shalom”.

  *

  One day, Assaf came to see the Mossad chief.

  - Good morning to you, my friend and commander. I’ve come to tell you I decided to retire from Mossad. I owe you a personal debt for everything you’ve done for me and for all the chances you have given me. Nevertheless, you know what they say, ‘enough is enough’!

  - I knew this day would come. I also know there’s no point trying to convince you to stay on. We will find the proper way to see you off. We shall find a replacement for you by tomorrow. Rest assured it will be a thorough transition. My regards to Michal.

  - Thank you, and good luck!

  Upon his retirement, Assaf signed an agreement in which he pledged not to engage in any pursuit that coincided with Mossad’s activities for the following three years.

  The very next day, Assaf went to a law firm, where he registered a new company, “Shlomi-ya”, a consulting firm on international civil projects.

  Chapter 5

  “Don’t mess with ’im, that’s Dudi Dayan from Dora!”

  Dora, an inner city neighborhood of Netanya, is scarcely known. There is little doubt, though, Dudi’s name was obscure to anyone in the city.

  - Oh, I beg your pardon, I had no idea you were sitting there.

  Dudi was what you might call ‘a colorful person’. A man of many contradictions: come morning, he could ‘waste manage’ a competitor, who’s body would be found later on somewhere in the sand dunes south of Netanya, and that very afternoon send a thick envelope to some bride who was too poor to buy her own wedding dress. He owned a boutique on main street, which he used to frequent every now and then, helping a customer choose an Armani suit he had imported himself. Clothes were his personal weakness.

  “Some people paint on the weekend,” he used to explain to his friends, “others write for fun or play sports, but I love clothes. Shame I do not have the time to spend as much as I’d like on this hobby of mine.” His words still reverberated as he went off to “attend” to some “associate” who was late paying his protection.

  Dudi cut a dashing figure, sporting the most elegant clothes to compliment his strong physique and handsome features, much to the delight of Netanya’s womenfolk. Assaf, his best friend, would someday explain this as “the criminal mystique”: the combination of the air of the “charming mobster”, a captivating leader, good looks and lavish generosity. Dudi was also highly respected by the menfolk, some of whom admired him, whereas others feared him. A real pro, he ran his own “boardwalk empire” with an iron fist and panache, fueled by the absolute confidence he exuded and his men’s total obedience. It was common knowledge that loyalty was aptly rewarded, as was betrayal.

  “You do not mess with Dudi!” was the common maxim around town.

  The anecdote about the brazen fool who stole from Dudi was whispered in close quarters. To this day, so they say, the police have yet to collect the poor sod’s entire remains. It had become commonplace for the police to have Dudi arrested first, whatever case they were working, as a matter of procedure. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt the police’s reputation, or undermine their investigation either, they would book him, only to have him appear, the picture of elegance, before the magistrate, ready to be arraigned. The police would then show extra care in processing him, avoiding so much as the slightest crease to his white linen shirt and shiny shoes. The rumor goes that some rooky policeman once dropped to Dudi’s feet to clean a speck off one of his shoes. The magistrates too played the game, often greeting him with a smile, only to order his immediate release due to lack of evidence. Dudi would then leave court all calm and smiling, straight to his boutique. Nevertheless, some police officers still entertained the hope of securing his conviction someday.

  - All rise!

  Everyone at the Tel Aviv District Court’s main hall rose to their feet, including people who viewed the proceedings as a spectator sport. They would never miss a good murder story. The audience naturally comprised of civil attorneys who came to see what the fuss was all about, journalists in search of tomorrow’s headlines, anxious family members and the usual cackle of Dudi’s female fans.

  - Criminal case number two eight eight dash eight, the State of Israel vs. Dudi Dayan. Justice Yitzhak Kimhi presiding, alongside Justice Naomi Tzivion to his right and Justice Ya’akub Khamzi to his left.

  The judges’ clerk resumed her seat, her excitement attesting to this being her first criminal trial. Nevertheless, her apprehension at the grave responsibility she bore did not prevent her from noticing her mother’s proud smile from the second row of the courtroom’s aisle.

  Justice Kimhi, as esteemed as he was experienced in years and procedures, turned to the peoples’ bench, and asked, imposing and dignified, “are the people wishing to make their case?”

  Justice Tzivion looked at the state attorney inquisitively. Much younger than her fellow justices on the bench, her fair hair and good looks earned her the spectators’ favor, all the more so as she was rumored to be a rising star, with persistent news of her impending appointment to Israel’s Supreme Court.

  The third judge, Justice Ya’akub Khamzi, a Christian Arab, who was appointed to the Tel Aviv District Court some time earlier, was part of this panel of judges for three years now. Rather bored and aloof looking, this was the last criminal case before him prior to his retirement. He felt he had seen it all before and could hardly be surprised anymore. Consequently, this particular trial bode nothing special as far as he could see.

  The attorney for the prosecution replied:

  - Yes, may it please the court.

  She was the district attorney’s sec
ond deputy. Her second and third chair, two junior attorneys, sat right next to her. Behind the prosecution’s bench, sat, alert and ready, their young interns.

  Presiding over all these proceedings was Justice Kimhi. Seasoned and astute, he realized why it was that the district attorney did not try this particular case herself, or at least delegate the case to her first deputy. When you assign a case to your number three, this can mean either that the evidence stacked against the accused is so unimpeachable, that you can allow the younger attorneys gain some experience without running the risk of them botching the case, or the opposite, that the case is so flimsy, you’d better let someone else take the wrap for losing it. Either way, Justice Kimhi couldn’t resist himself. He just had to share his ruminations with his fellow judge. He snuck a note to Justice Tzivion, who in turn smiled briefly and folded it back.

  The deputy district attorney continued:

  - May it please the court, the people hereby accuse the defendant that on Tuesday, at half past one in the afternoon, he, and another person, did shoot one Ya’akov Dahari, in broad daylight, in Netanya’s main street, Independence Street, killing him within three shots. The people would therefore ask that the defendant, Dudi Dayan, be found guilty of murder in the first degree according to Article 300 in the Penal Code of 1977. The State has incontrovertible evidence to support this, inter alia, thanks to a witness who has turned state’s evidence.

  “Silence in the courtroom!” Justice Kimhi responded to the hisses that greeted the people’s opening statement.

  - If order is not maintained, I shall clear the courtroom and resume proceedings in closed doors! Kindly proceed, madam counselor.

  - The people have ample circumstantial evidence to corroborate the case against the defendant. As the indictment shows, our charges rely on some two hundred and fifty witnesses, most of whom were technical spectators at the scene, but seeing as the perpetrators wore masks at the time of the shooting, their collective testimony does not amount to much. We can consequently dispense with summoning them.

  - How long do you require to make your case?

  - May it please the court, Justice Kimhi, I cannot estimate the time the defense would require for cross examination, but I do believe I would probably require four hearings, maybe six at the most.

  - Does the defense have a statement?

  The defendant’s legal team, comprising two self-conscious attorneys, whispered to one another. All too familiar with the evidence, they could hardly respond any differently:

  - May it please the court, we shall respond to the actual charges, one by one, in the course of the trial.

  When asked how long the defense would require to make its own case, they replied that they could neither, at that point, anticipate how long their cross examination would take, nor how long they would require to introduce their counter evidence, but they did quip that interrogating the people’s witness who had turned state evidence would require numerous lengthy hearings.

  At that moment, the defendant, who was until then peaceful at the dock, surrounded by four burly guards, snapped:

  - I am innocent! It’s all lies!

  But the presiding judge was no doubt impressed with the prosecution’s opening speech, for he shouted back at the defendant:

  - One more disturbance and I’ll have you removed!

  He then proceeded to adjourn the meeting, not before scheduling ten additional hearings to hear the case out.

  *

  - Case 288/8, the date is October 8, Justices Kimhi, Tzivion and Khamzi presiding, the people, the defense and the defendant are all present. I hereby invite the prosecution to call its first witness.

  Justice Kimhi then continued:

  - Let this be a warning to the defendant, that were he to cause any disturbance during these proceedings, I shall have him removed forthwith!

  The district attorney’s second deputy rose up.

  - I hereby call out first witness, Mordechai Nahari. Having signed an agreement to turn state evidence, he was awarded immunity of the counts of murder in the first degree, provided he testifies truthfully concerning the allegations specified against the defendant. He was further promised that all charges and open criminal cases against him shall be dropped immediately following his testimony. May it please the court, here is the letter of agreement. Opposing counselor has a copy of that, which they received during discovery. Please call Mordechai Nahari to the stand.

  The first witness for the prosecution made his way to the stand accompanied by his own detail of sturdy bodyguards, but he was nevertheless trembling with fear as he fixed his eyes firmly down into the witness box as he took an oath so say nothing but the truth. He then proceeded to give his testimony:

  - On Tuesday at half past one the defendant and I were on Independence Street in Netanya. When we saw Dahari coming towards us, the defendant pulled out a gun from his back pocket and shot Dahari three times.

  In response to which, Dudi screamed at the top of his lungs:

  - You dirty liar! I never shot anyone! I don’t even know you!

  The four guards assigned to the defendant pounced on him and forced him down back to his seat. Due to all this commotion, the chief magistrate called a recess and left in a hurry, together with the other two judges.

  After the short break, the justices returned, having beefed up Dudi’s detail with additional correctional officers.

  - I would like the defense team to advise their client that should he make any further disturbances I shall be forced to conduct his own trial in his absence. The prosecution may call its first witness back to the stand!

  The witness resumed his testimony under the watchful eye of three hulking guards seated at various points within the courtroom, who also kept eying the defendant.

  - Immediately after the shooting, Dudi handed me the gun he used to fire at Dahari, as he told me he would the day before.

  The prosecutor asked:

  - What else was in your arms?”

  - Right before Dudi pulled out the gun, he gave me a pair of leather gloves and put on a pair for himself as well.

  - Do you happen to recall what color were those gloves?

  - Yes. Khaki. Like an army uniform.

  - Go on.

  - Well, I took the gun from him and hid it in my own jacket pocket. I then ran up north and Dudi ran towards the beach. After about half a mile or so, I headed for the coastal road, where I descended to the underpass. I found this pile of rocks and stashed the gun there, under the rubble. I ran to the other side of the underpass and dropped both gloves in this ditch by an orange grove. Then, I ran over to the junction, hopped on a bus to Hadera and walked the rest of the way home.

  - Let me show you this silver Beretta gun number k296785. Do you recognize it?

  - Yeah. This here is the gun Dudi used to shoot the victim. It’s the same piece I hid under the coastal road.

  - How can you be so sure? What makes you identify it so definitively?

  - Its grip has a slight bend down there. I can also tell by its color.

  The counselor for the prosecution handed the gun to the bailiff.

  - May it please the court, let the record show the people mark this gun ‘Exhibit One’.

  After it was so noted, she resumed the course of her questions:

  - Now, do you recognize this pair of gloves?

  - Yes. These look a lot like the ones I had on during the murder, which I threw into that ditch.

  The prosecutor handed the bailiff the gloves and Justice Kimhi ordered they be marked as ‘Exhibit Two’. Both exhibits were rewrapped up in protective plastic and returned to the file.

  - Am I to understand you are through examining your witness, counselor?

  - Yes, your honor.

  - Then I hereby call the defense to have him cross examined.

  Chief M
agistrate Kimhi seemed highly pleased at the testimony, which only served to strengthen his preliminary conviction the defendant was indeed guilty of the murder. Dudi withstood two whole days of testimony and cross examination and, save for a few minor inconsistencies, he stuck to his guns and professed his innocence the entire time.

  It was then police Sergeant Yitzhak Va’anunu’s turn to take the stand.

  - I serve at the Netanya precinct. The moment we received a report on a shootout on Independence Street, I went over to the scene, where I was ordered to look for any suspects and gather any evidence that might be related to the incident. In the course of my pursuit, I reached the emergency underpass under the coastal road. Right in the middle there, I spotted this suspicious looking pile of rubble. When I examined it, I found this silver Beretta gun, which I bagged as evidence and brought back with me.

  - Here is ‘Exhibit One’ which I am showing you. Do you recognize it?

  - Yes. This is the same gun I found at the underpass. I can tell by its number and by the bend on the grip right there, at the butt.

  - This here is a pair of khaki leather gloves, marked as ‘Exhibit Two’. Do you recognize them?

  - Yes. This is the pair I found in the ditch.

  The next witness for the prosecution was Superintendent Avi Naor from Forensics. He testified that the lab test found the gun cartridges found at the scene, along with two bullets retrieved from the body, were fired from a Beretta gun, serial number k296785.

  As for the gloves, he testified they could not be used to retrieve any finger prints.