Chapters (43)
A slight movement of his mouth was the only reaction. "What about her?"
"I'm a detective, and I'm investigating her murder. I would like to talk to you about it, about Esther."
"I've already spoken to the police about it at the time."
"I know. I read the police report and spoke to the detective who handled the case." I was trying to make it seem as if I had the cooperation of the police and that it would be wise of him to speak to me. If this made any impression on him, he was doing a good job of hiding it.
Those penetrating blue eyes appraised me for a moment; then they shifted to my right. From the corner of my eye, I could see Dana, the secretary, her body tilted forward, clearly engrossed in our conversation. I suppose typing is always duller than murder.
Strauss frowned, and I thought he was going to rebuke her. Instead he turned to me and, in a tone that suggested he would rather have his wisdom teeth pulled, said, "All right. Come in. But I haven't got long, so you better keep it short."
His office was spacious and well-appointed. A gleaming wooden desk; a pair of sturdy ladder-back chairs; a sideboard with bottles and glasses on it; and a wall hung with framed pictures of Strauss beside various dignitaries, including at least one government minister I recognized and a former mayor of Tel Aviv. On another wall were various academic diplomas. He'd studied in Jerusalem and Beirut. These days, of course, the latter city was in an enemy country. On the desk lay tidy stacks of papers, a couple of expensive-looking pens, a humidor, and a glass ashtray housing a number of fat stubs. The rich scent of cigar smoke permeated the office.
Strauss poured himself a tall drink, then walked behind his desk and sat down. Only then did he think of asking if I wanted anything and seemed relieved when I told him I didn't. He instructed me to take one of the two visitors' chairs. He sat with his hands on the blotter, fingers laced, his posture relaxed.
"Your name is Lapid?"
"Yes."
"Never heard of you. Been in the investigation business long?"
"Since I arrived in Israel two years ago."
"A newcomer, eh? Where are you from?"
"Hungary."
"I thought it was something like that. Your accent and all. You should give Dana your name before you leave. We sometimes employ private investigators. Maybe we can find some use for you. We pay well."
"Thank you, but at the moment I'm not looking for more clients." This was a lie. My schedule was far from full, and I could always do with extra cash. I just didn't like him trying to put money into my hand when I was there to question him.
"Who is your client on this case?" he asked.
"A relative of Esther and her baby."
"You can't say the name?"