Murderer in the Mikdash

By: Gidon RothsteinChapter ONEIt was just dumb luck, Rachel thought, marveling at the coincidence but adding bitterly, if, after the Arrival, we're still allowed to believe in such things. But if I hadn'tlooked up from window-shopping at that exact moment, I would never have seen him fullface, and I wouldn't have recognized him from any other angle.These thoughts came in between her gasps of breath as she tried to keep up withhim, average in height and weight but with distinctively stringy red hair and a permanently harried expression, as if he was perpetually overloaded with obligations. Ithad been a while since she had walked quickly; it was even more challenging having toduck into stores anytime he looked like he might turn around. Knowing that she couldnever describe him clearly enough to identify him to anyone else-- where were her journalist’s instincts when she needed them? Maybe it was true, anchorpeople were justthe pretty faces-- she trailed him through the winding streets of the city with the urgencyof slim but fading possibility.If only that policeman, the one with all the questions that night at Liat's, were herenow! Much of what had happened outside Liat’s building that night was just a haze. Sheremembered the ambulance workers frantically working to save her dying friend. Evenmore vividly, though, she remembered this stringy red-haired man, wearing a jacket thatidentified him as part of a volunteer ambulance corps. He wasn't doing anything, whichfirst caught Rachel's attention, just standing over Liat’s body, his face showing a

Murderer in the Mikdash

by Gidon Rothstein2complicated wash of emotions, in a way that told Rachel he was not really an EMT, thathe had some other connection to Liat and her death.As she had turned to call over a policeman and point him out, she had beendistracted for a moment. By the time she turned back, he was gone; she was doublydetermined that he not get away this time. When she had mentioned him to the cop, hehad shrugged in that particularly annoying Israeli way, saying he couldn’t do anythingwithout a better description. Anyway, the cop had said, while it is rare for a youngwoman to die of sudden respiratory distress, it does happen; her family preferred to closethe case quickly, to allow for burial without undue delay. With no compelling reason toact otherwise, they would list the death as natural causes, and wrap their investigation.Rachel assumed the man with the stringy red-hair and harried expression wouldnot know who she was, so she allowed herself to trail him fairly closely-- she wasn't goodat it as it was, and needed all the slack she could create. So intent was she on her pursuitthat she didn’t notice when they entered the Old City, or the direction in which they werewalking. As the man went through several security gates, Rachel considered her nextmove. Identify him to police personnel? Why would they care? She could already seethe cops giving her the blank, pointedly polite look that said you had just offered theminformation of no use. Rachel decided she had two immediate goals— get a better look at him, so she could describe him more exactly, and trail him to where he lived or wasstaying.“

Selihah, geveret, mazal tov `al ledet benekh

, excuse me, miss, congratulations onthe birth of your son.” The words of the security guard startled her out of her thoughts.

Murderer in the Mikdash

by Gidon Rothstein3Realizing that he had seen the badge on her arm, as had so many people in the last threeweeks, she automatically thanked him and began to move on.“I’m sorry, ma`am, but I won’t be able to allow you to go beyond here for another few weeks,” the security guard persisted.“But you don’t understand, that man…” Rachel sputtered, realizing that her targetwas quickly disappearing into the crowd. “Look, it’s very urgent that I get in touch withthat man right there. It’s a matter of catching a murderer!" She hoped that last hadn’tsounded

too

dramatic; she also wondered whether lying to a security guard- she had noidea of whether there even

was

a murderer, she just was having trouble accepting Liat's"sudden respiratory distress"-- carried any consequences in the New Israel.“Ma’am, if you’d like I can take a description of the man you were looking for, but I cannot let a woman in your condition onto the Temple Mount.”Something in the way he spoke finally brought Rachel’s attention fully away fromthe now-lost red-haired man and to the jet-black haired one standing before her. Hewasn’t a security guard in the usual sense, she realized, he was a Levi, and he was tellingher that she couldn’t enter the Temple Mount for a while longer. Why?"I'm sorry. What did you say?"The Levi sighed, as if this were a particular trying part of his job. "I won't be ableto let you onto the Mount until after you've completed the waiting period and offered theappropriate sacrifices." He seemed to know that this would not fly smoothly and waitedfor the onslaught to come.