In the Name of God. Stephen J. Gordon

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СКАЧАТЬ of the corner of my eye I saw one of my adult self-defense students watching us from a nearby table. He was a medium-tall, slightly chubby balding man who was always asking me questions. Don’t come over here...don’t speak to me, was all I could think.

      I looked at him, but then turned back to the men in front of me.

      “So you don’t think there was anyone else with the waiter?” Amit asked again.

      “No, I didn’t see him interacting with anyone other than to wait tables.”

      “Unless there was someone in the kitchen you couldn’t see,” this from the younger Israeli standing beside his boss.

      “Maybe, but during Mr. Lev’s speech, the waiter spent the entire time out here in the hall.”

      The cop seemed surprised. “You noticed that also?”

      I smiled what I hoped was a good smile. “I was bored, so, I looked around.”

      The young Israeli agent leaned over to his boss and whispered again. The senior agent looked up at his man and said, “Kain, ani yodey-ah.” Yes, I know.

      I looked at them looking at me.

      One of us needed to say something, so I did: “Why don’t you check the TV crew’s camera. Maybe they got something on tape.” Of course I already knew they did that, so I tried to make it sound like an innocent, helpful suggestion. I’m not sure it came out that way.

      “Yes, thank you for that idea,” the cop said. His comment sounded equally lame.

      Amit turned to me. “Gidon, you are an interesting man. I would love to speak with you some more.” He smiled pleasantly.

      “Where can we reach you if we need to get in touch?” the cop asked.

      I gave him my home number and stood up. Amit held out his hand and I shook it. “Thank you for your help. As I said before, you saved Mr. Lev’s life.”

      I shrugged again, trying to look embarrassed. I seemed to be shrugging a lot lately. “I’m glad I could. Good luck.” I headed back to my table, not waiting to be dismissed.

      I heard them start to talk behind me, but my hearing wasn’t good enough to make out what they were saying. I wondered how long it would be before they paid me a visit at home.

      “So, how’d it go?” Alli asked, as I approached her.

      “Not as good as I would have liked. I always say too much.”

      “Too much? I don’t understand.”

      “Neither do I,” I smiled. I really had no idea why I wasn’t more forthcoming. Was there a reason not to be? Old habit, I guess. I let out a silent breath. Man, I was too tired for all this. I looked at Alli, “So, did you save my cake?”

      “I did.”

      I looked down at it, but it wasn’t calling me anymore.

      There was movement to my right, from the head table. The plain-clothed cop who interviewed me, had walked over to the head table and had picked up the microphone from the dais. He flicked the switch on the mic and the loud speaker popped to life.

      “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Lieutenant Kuper. Thank you for your patience. Everything is under control. Mr. Lev is safe. We have the man who we think is responsible in custody. If anyone has information that can help us, please see me. Otherwise, you are all free to go. Thank you, again, for your patience.”

      There was a murmur about the room. I watched for a moment as people began to file out past the police. I nodded to Alli and we joined the slow-moving exodus. We stepped out in the hallway, which was lined on either side with display cases of menorahs, shofars, and other Judaica, and then we eventually found ourselves outside the building.

      The May Sunday night air was cool, and compared to the close confines in the social hall, it was liberating. We stood with the synagogue behind us, looking out onto Seven Mile Lane, a main suburban street, but of modest size. As invigorating as the air was, though, when we emerged from the synagogue, it felt as if we were stepping into a crime scene. Police cars with their blue lights flashing were parked almost bumper-to-bumper along the curb in front of us. A uniformed officer wearing an orange reflective vest was standing in the middle of the intersection, directing traffic. I was half expecting to hear the distinctive squawk of police radio, but the cops had lapel walkie-talkies.

      Out on the sidewalk there was already quite a crowd. Not only had all the dinner guests emptied into the public area in front of the synagogue, but there were several groups of local residents there as well. Even the opposite street corners were filled. Ahead of us on each corner was a mixture of old and young gawkers, neighbors probably, brought out by the light and sound show that accompanied the police. There were elderly couples in bathrobes, men and women in warm-up suits, and kids on bicycles. I looked up into the night sky. The helicopter was nowhere to be seen; no reason to hang around once the dignitary and his would-be assassin were gone.

      Alli tugged on my arm, wanting to head to my car. She began to lead the way to the right, through the crush of people. I found myself looking across the street to the bystanders. On the far corner, behind a young couple holding up an infant, was a group of kids...teenagers, I’d guess. They were standing close together, alternately looking at the crowd — us — and shifting their feet. A few had cigarettes dangling from their lips. One boy was on crutches. The crutches caught my attention; they were the aluminum type and glinted in the artificial white light of the synagogue flood lights.

      As we continued to move to the parking lot, someone was approaching us from the right. It was the slightly chubby adult student I spotted earlier while I was talking to the Shin Bet agent. I had prayed that he wouldn’t come over to me in front of the Israeli and he hadn’t.

      “Yo, Sensei!” the student called. God, he was loud.

      “Hi, Lenny.” Alli and I stopped walking.

      “So, what d’you think? Exciting, huh. What were you doing?...Helping out the Israelis, right?”

      I looked at Alli and shared a smile with her. “That’s it, Lenny, you know me.”

      “Good. They need help these days. They should go to you.” He paused. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say. Gotta go. See you Wednesday night.”

      “So long.”

      As I watched him move toward the adjacent parking lot on the right, another figure caught my attention. David Amit was standing at the edge of the crowd, near the curb in front of us, surrounded by his men. They were still scanning the group. All were looking about; all but Amit. He wasn’t interested in the mass of people. He was looking at me.

      A black sedan pulled to the curb. The Israelis, without exchanging any words, got in, and quickly pulled away. After the car turned a corner, I let my gaze drift back to the kids across the street. While some of the bystanders were beginning to head off, they hadn’t moved. They were still huddled on the opposite street corner, taking in all the action.

      Alli tugged on my sleeve once again and we made our way to my dark red Jeep. Thanks to the fact I had previously backed into my space, we were able to pull right out. I cut off a middle-aged tuxedoed man in a black Lexus and then headed out. We drove toward СКАЧАТЬ