“Warn her? Warn her of what?”
“That her blood pressure might not stand up to it a second time.”
Christina had never told me what the doctor went on to explain—that the birth of our first child had been complicated, and that the doctors had advised her against becoming pregnant again.
“Why hadn’t she told me?” I demanded. Then I realized why. She had risked everything for me—foolish, selfish, thoughtless me—and I had ended up killing the one person I loved.
They allowed me to hold Deborah in my arms for just a moment before they put her into an incubator and told me it would be another twenty-four hours before she came off the danger list.
You will never know how much it meant to me, Father, that you came to the hospital so quickly. Christina’s parents arrived later that evening. They were magnificent. He begged for my forgiveness—begged for my forgiveness. It could never have happened, he kept repeating, if he hadn’t been so shortsighted and prejudiced.
His wife took my band and asked if she might be allowed to see Deborah from time to time. Of course I agreed. They left just before midnight. I sat, walked, slept in that corridor for the next twenty-four hours until they told me that my daughter was off the danger list. She would have to remain in the hospital for a few more days, they explained, but she was now managing to suck milk from a bottle.
Christina’s father kindly took over the funeral arrangements.
You must have wondered why I didn’t appear and I owe you an explanation. I thought I would just drop into the hospital on my way to the funeral so that I could spend a few moments with Deborah. I had already transferred my love.
The doctor couldn’t get the words out. It took a brave man to tell me that her heart had stopped beating a few minutes before my arrival. Even the senior surgeon was in tears. When I left the hospital the corridors were empty.
I want you to know, Father, that I love you with all my heart, but I have no desire to spend the rest of my life without Christina or Deborah.
I only ask to be buried beside my wife and daughter and to be remembered as their husband and father. That way unthinking people might learn from our love. And when you finish this letter, remember only that I had such total happiness when I was with her that death holds no fears for me.
Your son,
Benjamin.
The old rabbi placed the letter down on the table in front of him. He had read it every day for the last ten years.
Here is an excerpt from HONOR AMONG THIEVES
CHAPTER ONE
February 15, 1993
New York
ANTONIO CAVALLI STARED intently at the Arab, who he considered looked far too young to be a Deputy Ambassador.
“One hundred million dollars,” Cavalli said, pronouncing each word slowly and deliberately, giving them almost reverential respect.
Hamid Al Obaydi flicked a worry bead across the top of his well-manicured thumb, making a click that was beginning to irritate Cavalli.
“One hundred
million is quite acceptable,” the Deputy Ambassador replied in a clipped English accent.
Cavalli nodded. The only thing that worried him about the deal was that Al Obaydi had made no attempt to bargain, especially since the figure the American had proposed was double that which he had expected to get. Cavalli had learned from painful experience not to trust anyone who didn’t bargain. It inevitably meant that he had no intention of paying in the first place.
“If the figure is agreed,” he said, “all that is left to discuss is how and when the payments will be made.”
The Deputy Ambassador flicked another worry bead before he nodded.
“Ten million dollars to be paid in cash immediately,” said Cavalli, “the remaining ninety million to be handed over once we can prove to your satisfaction that everything is in place. The final seventy million to be deposited in a Swiss bank account as soon as the contract has been carried out.”
“But what do I get for my first ten million?” asked the Deputy Ambassador, looking fixedly at the man whose origins were as hard to hide as his own.
“Nothing,” replied Cavalli, although he acknowledged that the Arab had every right to ask such a question. After all, if Cavalli didn’t honor his side of the bargain, the Deputy Ambassador had far more to lose than just his government’s money.