The Kill Artist

their teapot.
    When she was gone he asked, "Do you have a girl?" He knew no boundaries when it came to asking personal questions. No corner of a man's life, friend or enemy, was off limits.
    Gabriel shook his head and busied himself with the tea-milk on the bottom, tea on top, English style. Shamron dumped three packets of sugar into his cup, stirred violently, and pressed on with his inquiries. "No little loves? No loose women that you lure onto your boat for a pleasure cruise?"
    "No women on the boat. Just Peel."
    "Ah, yes, Peel. Your watcher."
    "My watcher."
    "May I ask why not?"
    "No, you may not."
    Shamron frowned. He was accustomed to unimpeded access into Gabriel's personal life.
    "What about this girl?" Shamron cocked his head in the direction of the waitress. "She can't take her eyes off of you. She doesn't interest you in any way?"
    "She's a child," said Gabriel.
    "You're a child."
    "I'm closing in on fifty now."
    "You look forty."
    "That's because I don't work for you anymore."
    Shamron dabbed omelet from his lips. "Maybe you won't take another woman because you're afraid Tariq will try to kill her too."
    Gabriel looked up as if he had heard a gunshot.
    "Maybe if you help me take down Tariq, you can forgive yourself for what happened in Vienna. I know you blame yourself, Gabriel. If it wasn't for Tunis, Leah and Dani would never have been in Vienna."
    "Shut up-"
    "Maybe if you help me take down Tariq, you can finally let go of Leah and get on with your life."
    Gabriel stood up, tossed a crumpled ten-pound note onto the table, and went out. Shamron smiled apologetically at the girl and followed softly after him.
    * * *
    At the base of the cliff, on the little gray-sand beach at Polpeor Cove, stood the ruins of a lifeguard station slip. A bright wet moon shone through the broken clouds, and the sea held the reflection of light. Gabriel thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket, thinking of Vienna. The afternoon before the bombing. The last time he had made love to Leah. The last time he had made love to anyone… Leah had insisted on keeping the blinds of their bedroom window open, even though it overlooked the courtyard of the apartment house and Gabriel was convinced the neighbors were watching them. Leah hoped they were. She found perverse justice in the idea of Jews-even secret Jews living as an Italian art restorer and his Swiss girlfriend-seeking pleasure in a city where they had suffered so much persecution. Gabriel remembered the damp heat of Leah's body, the taste of salt on her skin. Afterward they had slept. When he awakened he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him. "I want this to be your last job. I can't take this anymore. I want you to leave the Office and do something normal. We can stay in Europe and you can work only as a restorer. Promise me, Gabriel."
    Shamron joined him on the beach.
    Gabriel looked up. "Why did you go back to the Office? Why couldn't you stay in Tiberias and live life? Why did you go running back when they called?"
    "Too much unfinished business. I've never known anyone who left the secret world with all his affairs in order. We all leave behind bits of loose thread. Old operations, old enemies. They pull at you, like memories of old lovers. I also couldn't bear to watch the Alsatian and Lev destroying my service any longer."
    "Why did you keep Lev?"
    "Because I was forced to keep Lev. Lev made it clear to the prime minister that he would not go quietly if I tried to push him out. The last thing the prime minister wanted was a paralyzed Operations division. He got weak knees and made Lev untouchable."
    "He's a snake."
    "The prime minister?"
    "Lev."
    "A venomous snake, however, who needs to be handled carefully. When the Alsatian resigned, Lev believed he was next in the line of succession. Lev is no longer a young man. He can feel the keys to the throne room slipping through his fingers. If I come and go quickly, Lev may still get his chance. If I serve out my full term, if I linger and take a long time to die, then perhaps the prime minister will choose a younger prince as my successor. Needless to say, I do not count Lev as one of my supporters at King Saul Boulevard."
    "He never liked me."
    "That's because he was envious of you. Envious of your professional accomplishments. Envious of your talent. Envious of the fact you earned three times as much in your cover job as Lev earned on his Office salary. My God, he was even envious of Leah. You're