Some crime novels you are there, right in the thick of it, living and breathing every move of the detective. But this book is different and it's that difference that's so compelling. Inspector Avraham comes across as an reluctant detective, maybe jaded, doing the job because he's good at it. Reading it I felt as though I was watching the story unfold through one-way glass in the room next door.
Had he already known when he woke up that the reason for the trip wasn't only to avoid the police's interrogation? The questioning at the station had scared him less the day after. When he had left the station, his hands trembled on the car's steering wheel, but since he had started carrying out the plan, the shaking had ceased. He was frightened not because of the questions the detective had posed to him but rather because of those he had not. And he had no reason to panic. At night he'd spoken with Chava Cohen and the conversation had gone well. The investigation had certainly turned away from him, or would do so in the days to come. He could have cancelled the trip - and in retrospect, if he had cancelled it, it was possible he wouldn't have been caught - but he already wanted to get away for other reasons.