The One From the Other Read Online Free PDF Page B

followed us as we passed through a beaded curtain and into a sweaty back room that was full of beer crates and chairs stacked on top of tables. Polkes took down three chairs and placed them on the floor. Meanwhile, Golomb helped himself to three beers from a crate, prized the tops off with his thumbs, and set them down on the table.
    “That’s a neat trick,” I observed.
    “You should see him open a tin of peaches,” said Polkes.
    It was hot. I took off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves. Both Jews kept their lightweight jackets buttoned. I nodded at their bulky armpits. “It’s okay,” I told Polkes. “I’ve seen a gun before. I won’t get nightmares if I see yours.”
    Polkes translated into Hebrew and, smiling, Golomb nodded. His teeth were big and yellow, as if he usually ate grass for dinner. Then he took off his jacket. So did Polkes. Each of them was carrying a British Webley, as big as a dog’s hind leg. We all lit cigarettes, tasted our warm beers, and looked one another over. I paid more attention to Golomb since he seemed to be the one in charge. Eventually, Polkes said:
    “Eliahu Golomb is on the Command Council of Haganah. He’s in favor of your government’s radical Jewish policy, since it is the belief of Haganah that this will only increase the strength of the Jewish population in Palestine. In time, this can only mean that Jews will outnumber Arabs, after which the country will be ours for the taking.”
    I always hated warm beer. I hate drinking it from a bottle. I get mad when I have to drink it from a bottle. I’d rather not drink it at all.
    “Let’s get something clear,” I said. “It’s not my government. I hate the Nazis, and if you had any sense, you would, too. They’re a bunch of goddamn liars and you can’t believe a word they say. You believe in your cause. That’s fine. But there’s very little in Germany that’s worth believing in. Except perhaps that a beer should always be served cold and with a decent head on it.”
    Polkes translated all that I had said and when he finished, Golomb shouted something in Hebrew. But I hadn’t finished my diatribe.
    “You want to know what they believe in? The Nazis? People like Eichmann and Hagen? They believe that Germany is a thing worth cheating for. Worth lying for. And you’re a pair of goddamn fools if you think any different. Even now those two Nazi clowns are preparing to meet your friend, the Grand Mufti, in Cairo. They’ll make a deal with him. And then the next day they’ll make a deal with you. And then they’ll go back to Germany and wait to see which one Hitler will go for.”
    The barman arrived carrying three cold beers in glasses and put them on the table. Polkes smiled. “I think Eliahu likes you,” he said. “He wants to know what you’re doing in Palestine. With Eichmann and Hagen.”
    I told them that I was a private detective and about Paul Begelmann. “And just so you know there’s nothing noble about it,” I added, “I’m being paid quite handsomely for my trouble.”
    “You don’t strike me as a man who’s entirely motivated by money,” said Golomb, through Polkes.
    “I can’t afford to have principles,” I said. “Not in Germany. People with principles end up at Dachau concentration camp. I’ve been to Dachau. I didn’t like it.”
    “You’ve been to Dachau?” said Polkes.
    “Last year. A flying visit, you might say.”
    “Were there many Jews there?”
    “About a third of the prisoners were Jewish,” I said. “The rest were communists, homosexuals, Jehovah’s Witnesses, a few Germans with principles.”
    “And which were you?”
    “I was a man doing a job,” I said. “Like I told you, I’m a private detective. And sometimes it takes me way out of my depth. It can happen very easily in Germany right now. I forget that myself sometimes.”
    “Maybe you would like to work for us?” said Golomb. “It would be useful to know the minds of these two men we were supposed to