The Walls of Jericho

Book 1: Ben and Danielle

by Jon Land

Genres: Thrillers; Crime Fiction; Political Thrillers

Synopsis

American Ben Kamal is a Detroit police detective whose police training makes him valuable to the new Palestinian police force on the West Bank. He's glad to help--but hooking up with the Israelis to find a serial killer was not part of the deal.

Danielle Barnea is the best that Shin Bet, Israel's FBI, has to offer, but she, too, resists the assignment.

Now Ben and Danielle are forced to leave personal differences behind as they realize that something much more complex than murder is behind the killings.

At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

Release date: April 1, 2011

Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

Print pages: 304

Sample

Walls of Jericho

DAY ONE
CHAPTER 1
"WHAT DO YOU know about the murders, Inspector?"
Ben Kamal shifted stiffly in the chair set before the desk of Ghazi Sumaya, mayor of the ancient city of Jericho. "The same thing everyone else does," he said, still wondering what he was doing here.
"And what is that?" Sumaya asked him.
"Seven in the past year in the West Bank: three prior to the Israeli pullout, four after. The latest occurred here in Jericho ten days ago."
The mayor leaned forward, the massive desk dwarfing his small frame. "You would agree that we're facing a serial killer, then. Al-Diib, they call him."
"The Wolf ... Because his victims have been savaged, mutilated beyond all recognition."
"The one you caught in America, they had a name for him, too, didn't they?"
"The Sandman." Ben nodded.
"Why?"
Ben lowered his gaze. "He killed entire families while they slept."
"Until you stopped him."
"Yes."
"That makes you something of an expert."
Ben raised his head again. Shafts of the early morning sun streamed through the open blinds, making him squint. Above him, a ceiling fan spun lazily, catching some of the stubborn light and splashing it across the portrait of Yasir Arafat that hung directly behind Sumaya's chair.
"I have experience, that's all," he said.
The mayor's deep-set eyes sought out Ben's compassionately. "Experience,Inspector, is exactly what we need. I spoke to President Arafat last night. He has been contacted by the Israelis. They want to assist us in the investigation."
Ben's eyes widened. "Assist us?"
"Their offer is genuine, I assure you. I've already conferred with a representative of their National Police this morning."
"Did you ask him what they have to gain?"
"Perhaps they have the same thing to lose: peace. And toward that end the Israelis want to send an officer to liaise with a Palestinian counterpart. Are you interested?"
"No, sir."
His response took the mayor off guard. "Perhaps you didn't understand my question. I was asking if you want to officially take over this investigation."
"I understood what you meant. I don't. I'm sorry."
"Perhaps it is I who should be sorry," Sumaya said, sounding genuinely hurt. "Sorry for standing behind you when everyone else was calling for your head."
"Put me in charge of this investigation and they'll be calling for yours as well."
"Some already are," Sumaya lamented, "more with each day."
He rose and moved out from behind his desk. The mayor wore a suit in an olive shade only slightly lighter than Ben's green police uniform. He was a small man, but carried himself in a way that made him seem taller. Sumaya had been part of the Palestinian delegation that had forged the original Gaza-Jericho First option. He had gained a master's degree in France years before and returned to the West Bank to chronicle the times he instead found himself a part of. His dark, graying hair had begun to recede, adding to the air of authority that hung over him.
"We have a credibility problem here, Ben," he continued. "These murders have become a symbol for our inefficiency. They are giving the growing pains we are experiencing a worldwide forum that the enemies of peace are seizing upon."
Sumaya walked to the window and drew the blinds shut, trapping the sun outside where it shone off the chiseled white stone structure of the Palestinian Authority headquarters on the outskirts of Jericho. His formal office was located downtown in Jericho's Municipal Building, but as a member of the Palestinian Council as well, he preferred using this one.
"The peace talks are scheduled to reconvene next week," the mayor explained. "Six months without dialogue and finally the new Israeli prime minister seems ready to negotiate the final stages of withdrawal from the West Bank." Sumaya tightened his stance, almost to attention. "Almost a year we've gone without an 'aamaliyya, an operation, carried out against Israel, and to a great extent your work is the reason. You have helped teach us how to arrest our own, Inspector. Hamas is running scared. We've infiltrated their ranks, preempted their strikes, jailed their militants. So they have seized upon these murders to destroy the credibility with the people we have worked so hard at building!"
Sumaya stopped to settle himself down, but the agitation remained in his voice when he resumed. "You understand what I'm getting at here? There can be no peace without the support of the people, and these murders have taken that support from us. The talks will collapse, if they ever get started now."
"Which is where this Israeli liaison comes in."
"Let's face facts here. The Israelis don't trust us any more than we trust them. What we have between us is a mutual nonunderstanding. Now, I have spoken to the President and we are of one mind on utilizing your skills and expertise."
"I'm hardly the proper representative for our people, sidi," Ben offered.
"I understand your bitterness over the treatment you have received in recent weeks. The behavior of your fellow officers has been inexcusable, and I wish I could have done more to change it."
"But I'll need their cooperation, along with that of witnesses, families of the victims too. If they read the newspapers, it is safe to assume that such cooperation will not be forthcoming, certainly not in the ten days we have left before the start of the peace talks."
"But we must try. Make an effort, a point."
"And if that effort fails, what point have we made? That we are just as inefficient working with the Israelis as we are working alone? Incompetent as well as weak? You're taking a very big risk here."
"The bigger risk lies in doing nothing, Inspector. If al-Diib is still at large one week from Wednesday, there may be no peace talks, and everything the authority has tried to accomplish will collapse. We have nothing to lose."
"And, of course, at this point neither do I."
"I wouldn't have put it that way." Sumaya cleared his throat uneasily. "You will have my complete cooperation, Ben."
"And will I have Commander Shaath's, too?"
"I know you have had a problem with him, since ... the incident."
"The two of us had problems before. That only worsened things."
"He resents foreigners, that's all."
"I'm not a foreigner. I was born here just as he was."
"But Shaath did not emigrate to America as a child."
"That was my parents' choice. I made the decision to return."
"As your father did before you. Did I ever tell you I knew him?"
"You mentioned it once."
"He was a hero," Sumaya reflected softly. "I remember meeting him in 1967, not long after he returned in the wake of the Six-Day War. He said I was too young to help, told me to wait for another time." His voice drifted. "I suppose he knew even then it would come."
"I was seven years old when he left. He never told me."
"I wept the day he was killed. We all did. He was given a hero's funeral."
"My family didn't learn of it until weeks later. They wouldn't ship his body to America."
"And how do you think he'd feel about you returning too, following in his footsteps?"
"I think he'd tell me I made a mistake."
"Why?"
"Because he had something to return to."
"And you ..."
"I thought I did."
The focus returned to Sumaya's expression, as if his point had been made. "But don't you see? You have now. This is your opportunity."
"I'd prefer not to take it."
Sumaya seemed miffed. "You understand I'm under considerable pressure here."
"Because of the murders ..."
"The murders and your own peculiar status. I went out on a limb for you, Inspector. I kept you from being transferred." His deep-set eyes blazed into Ben's. "Or worse."
"I appreciate that."
"Then help me now," Sumaya implored. "The Israeli police liaison will be here at three o'clock this afternoon. What should I tell him?"
"That I need more time to think about it."
"There is no more time." The mayor started to shuffle back to his chair. "You see, Inspector, the body of another victim was found in Jericho this morning."
Copyright © 1997 by Jon Land