The Boudicca Parchments

Chapter 53

The man who had followed the Sassons and Helen Klein to the house had been told by HaTzadik not to use the phone. They had been wary of using the phone at the best of times. But now with HaTzadik concerned that they might be under surveillance, they had to be extra careful. So instead, he drove back to the city centre.

He was in fact one of the few members local of Shomrei Ha’ir who could even drive. Because the sect was so fanatically opposed to the State of Israel, they refused not only to participate in its elections or to serve in the army, but even to cooperate with its institutions. Hence learning to drive was very difficult for Israeli members of Shomrei Ha’ir even though foreign based members — in the UK and USA — had mastered the skill driving of driving and were licensed to do so.

In the case of this man, he was Israeli, but he had not always been a member of the sect. For most of his life, he had been a secular Jew with no religious upbringing whatsoever until a personal crisis had caused him to “see the light” and become a ba’al teshuva — a master of repentance — who had hazar bitshuva, returned in repentance. This was not a convert, but a lost soul who had returned to the fold — the Jewish equivalent of a “born again” Christian.

As such he capable of equalling if not exceeding the fanaticism of other members of the sect. It also meant that he could be ruthless in his dealings with other human beings in order to fulfil the wishes and demands of HaTzadik, his beloved “rebbe” or teacher.

Once he reached the city centre, he drove around for twenty minutes before he found a place to park. Then he walked to Mea She’arim.

“The house is in the basement. There’s gold-painted metal gate. You go down the stairs and to the right and that’s where they are.”

“And you just drove by once?”

HaTzadik was grilling his man on the details. This time Shalom Tikva was taking personal command of the operation and he didn’t want it to go wrong yet again. He would proceed the plan with hours of prayer, knowing that success or failure was in the hands of Hashem. But in the meantime, he would plan it carefully and diligently.

“No I stopped further down and started chatting to a religious couple about buying a property in the area. I asked if it’s quiet on shabas and used that as a starting pointing.”

“And what did you find out?”

“About what it’s like on shabas?”

“About anything!” snapped HaTzadik, irritated. “What are the neighbours like?”

“There’s a hostel for mentally retarded girls.”

“A hostel?”

“Well… a sort of mini-hostel. It’s a basically an apartment where they’ve got several teenage and young adult girls staying.”

“And staff?”

“A woman comes to visit them during the daytime.”

“That’s it? But surely if they’re retarded…”

“They’re not severely retarded; just mildly. And some of them have behavioural problems. Anyway they were the only neighbours I was able to find out about.”

“What about access?”

“Well there’s only one actual entrance — and that’s the gate I told you about, But there’s a garden that overlooks the sloping hill and the valley. I took a look at the valley. There’s no road anywhere near it, but a fit person could climb up the hill and get to the garden that way.”

“And how easy would it be to get from the garden into the house?”

“Not that easy. All the windows have solid bars.”

“But what about how they get to the garden from the house?”

“Well from what I could see they had heavy shutters, that they presumably lower at night — or maybe just to keep the sun out. But there’s also an iron door and again, I assume they lock it at night.”

“But when you looked at it… during the day?”

“It was open.”

“And aside from that,” HaTzadik added, “if there’s a garden… and if there are little girls… they probably like to go outside and play.”