"Both. What he did was terrible, of course. But he was driven mad by the loss of his son and his wife's condition. I can't help but feel sorry for him."

I drank some coffee. I wondered whether I had been driven mad by the loss of my wife and daughters, and if so, whether I had ever recovered.

"Are you really going to visit his son's grave?" Greta asked.

"Yes. And Talia Shamir's grave as well."

"Oh?"

"Michael asked me to, when we were walking to the police station. He thought Talia might forgive him now that he was about to confess."

"So you were right. Confessing was good for him."

"In some ways, yes."

"His future will not be easy. He will be in jail for a very long time."

"I don't think it'll be that long," I said.

"Oh?"

"He'll do a few years for sure, maybe seven or eight. Then they'll let him out."

"You really think so?"

I nodded.

"Even though he committed a murder?"

"But he's also a hero. Young countries tend to be forgiving of their heroes. Certain kinds of heroes, anyway. And as you said, Michael was driven to madness by circumstances. I believe all that would be taken into account and he will be treated with lenience."

Greta thought it over. "I'm not sure how I feel about that. Hero or not, he is a murderer. He should be punished accordingly."

"I could be wrong. They might make an example out of him. The ruling powers in Israel are no fans of the Irgun."

Greta sighed. "All this infighting amongst ourselves. So senseless."

"It's part of who we are," I said. "We Jews are argumentative. Always have been. It's our culture."

"Yes, but now that we have a country of our own again, we need to come together."

"With time, maybe we will."

"I hope so," Greta said. A frown etched deep lines in her forehead. "So the only remaining mystery is the identity of the woman Haim Sassoon saw fighting with Esther a few days before the murders."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," I said. "I know who she is."

"You do? Who?"

"Yael Klinger."

"How do you know that?"

"The same way I discovered Michael was the killer: by accident. I was walking up King George a couple of days ago when I happened to see two men unloading produce from the back of a Tnuva truck. It reminded me of something Alon Davidson said. The night he kissed Esther by the docks, he said he saw her getting out of a truck. Moshe Klinger drives a truck for Tnuva. I paid a visit on Haim Sassoon yesterday and asked him whether the woman he saw with Esther had fiery red hair. The question triggered his memory and he said that she had. Yael Klinger has fiery red hair."

"So Esther and Moshe Klinger—"