Sabina's Pursuit of The Holy Grail
Chapter 18: A Dead End and a Clue.

A short walk later, I arrived at the coffee shop where I had seen the murders the day before. Or rather, I arrived at the location where the coffee shop had been, as the building was razed overnight. Razing a building where a triple murder took place wasn’t the normal police procedure, so clearly something was amiss.

I knocked on the neighbour’s door, and she came out to answer the knock. “What happened here?” I asked the neighbour.

“Why should you know?” she snarled at me.

“I am not from here, but I can make it worth your while,” I replied as I pulled out a bunch of 100-Shekel-bills.

I could sense the woman’s internal dilemma. On the one hand, she was a poor Palestinian, who needed the money. On the other hand, helping a foreigner the day was risky. I reached out, grabbed her hand, and looked into her eyes. “Please help me, it’s important.” I said.

The woman’s face changed, and she became friendlier. “Come in,” she said, and I entered the small house.

I handed her the pile of notes, and she invited me to sit down by a small table. “So, what happened next door?” I asked.

“There was gunfire, and a while later, six men left the building. Shortly afterwards a missile hit the building, and it collapsed.” The woman revealed

“What about the other customers in the cafeteria?” I asked.

“Cafeteria? It was just a home, not a place of business,” the woman replied, with a puzzled look on her face.

I tried to recall what had occurred on the day before. Had I walked into someone’s home, believing that it was a coffee shop, and ordered tea? It wasn’t impossible, I had been quite riled up the previous day.

“The men that left, can you describe them?” I asked the woman.

“Yes, there were six of them. Two police officers in combat gear, one man in a brown trench coat, and three hooded men in white robes,” the woman replied.

This confirmed that yesterday’s murders were staged by a group of high-level conspirators. But why would they do such a thing? What should I do?

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” I asked the woman.

“These are dangerous questions. A poor woman like me, should never reveal too much, or else the authorities will shoot me,” the woman replied nervously. I reached in my pocket for another pile of banknotes, but before I had reached them, the woman spoke again. “I found this outside the house, one of the men must have dropped it.” The woman handed me a police ID. I took the ID, and I gave her another 100 Shekel bill as gratitude.

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I put the ID in my pocket and spoke again. “Is there anything else that you can tell me?”

“Please don’t ask any more questions. I have children to look after.” The woman stammered, and she was close to tears.

“I understand. Thank you for your assistance. I will pray for you.” I said to reassure the woman.

Knowing that I couldn’t get any more information from this terrified Palestinian woman, I made my way back to the safehouse. I knew exactly who I would ask for help in this tricky situation.

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