Page 98 of The Collector
“But she’s more disciplined than you realize. And she has talent that only nature can bestow.”
“Or a mental disorder,” said Gabriel.
“You have a similar disorder. It just manifests itself differently.”
“Please tell me more, Dr. Lavon.”
“Your childhood left you with a textbook case of second-generation Holocaust survivor syndrome, which in turn instilled in you an almost uncontrollable need to repair things.”
“Or to prevent the Russians from unleashing Armageddon.”
“I was there a few weeks ago.”
“The Tel Megiddo dig?”
Lavon nodded. “I’m relieved to report that I saw no sign the end times are at hand.”
“You must not have been looking in the right place.”
Gabriel’s phone pulsed. Ingrid was hitting the gym in preparation for tonight’s festivities at the home of the secretary of the SecurityCouncil of Russia. The accompanying photograph depicted her left hand wrapped around the grip of a dumbbell.
“Nice ring,” remarked Lavon.
“Nice girl.”
“She’s a thief.”
“So am I,” said Gabriel. “I spent my entire career stealing secrets and lives.”
“For your country, not for money.”
“She gives it away.”
“Except for the money she used to buy her beachfront home in Denmark and her holiday villa on Mykonos.”
“Where she will spend the next several years in hiding because of her work tonight.”
“She doesn’t strike me as the sort of person to lie low for long. Needless to say,” added Lavon, “you suffer from that disorder as well.”
“Leah’s doctor informed me that I’m not a normal person and that I will neverbea normal person.”
“An astute observation. But then he did actually go to medical school.” Lavon watched the pedestrians filing past them in the street. “They certainlyseemhappy.”
“But not as happy as the Finns.”
“Ever been?”
“To Finland?” Gabriel shook his head. “What about you?”
“Once.”
“Office?”
“An archaeology conference in Helsinki. I have to say, the people didn’t strike me as particularly cheerful.”
“It probably had something to do with the fact that their city was overrun with archaeologists.”
Lavon lit another cigarette. “What is it now?”
