"Yes."

I nodded. "That's the way it feels to me. Though what it might be, I cannot imagine."

"It seems odd, given how much she wants you to catch this killer."

"That's the thing I don't understand myself."

We talked some more and gradually the conversation shifted from the case to mundane things. I told her about Erwin Goldberg and the books he'd sold me. She told me about a government inspector who'd come nosing around the café, hoping to catch her using black-market food in the kitchen. "The man must have been blind. There were all these restricted items spread out on the work counter and he didn't see them. Just shook my hand and thanked me for being a good citizen."

After a while, she remarked that the water in the bowl I'd brought her had gotten cold. I fetched her a towel to dry her feet. After she'd put on her socks and shoes, she asked me if I might help her to tidy the place up. I turned the chairs over on the tables and swept and mopped the floor while she washed, dried, and put away the dishes. We worked in companionable silence and had the place clean and ready for tomorrow's business in a little over thirty minutes.

"I still have some accounts I want to go over," Greta said. "Come. I'll see you out."

At the door I turned to her and gazed into her compassionate blue eyes that stared right back at me. I wanted to say something, maybe thank her for taking the time to listen to me ramble, and was forming the words in my mind, when she held up a hand. "It's all right, Adam. You go on home now. Sleep tight."

We said goodnight and I stepped out onto Allenby Street. The street was deserted, all the shops and restaurants and cafés closed for the night. Darkness blanketed doorways and storefronts where light from streetlamps failed to reach. A solitary car cruised by, its engine humming. Then it made the turn onto Sheinkin Street and was gone, leaving an empty road behind.

Hardly anyone owned a car in Israel. Only the very rich could afford one. Even during the day, privately owned cars were a distinct minority of the vehicles in Tel Aviv. Most of the traffic consisted of trucks and buses and government-issued cars, such as police cruisers and army vehicles. Horse-drawn wagons were not an uncommon sight. At this time of night, traffic was almost nonexistent.