See No Evil by Ron Felber Page A

capable of attacking a perceived enemywith the same passion as she would defend a friend. The terrain that lay between those two poles was often not very wide so that he was careful never to show too much of his inner self, especially the part so firmly rooted in the underworld.
    During those initial happy days of their marriage, Hanna’s response to his private, other life was to leave him alone, often taking trips by herself or with a girlfriend to Switzerland for skiing, Morocco for touring, or Israel for spiritual renewal. Call it genetics, but in that sense, Hanna was exactly like her father, who spoke six languages and had become famous in Brazil during World War II where he led a government- funded team of U.S. physicians in setting up the country’s medical system, virtually eliminating a malaria epidemic that threatened to kill thousands. Hanna, like him, was bright, self- contained , and a world traveler. She was pleased to be Mrs. Elliot Litner, but not about to deeply explore any of the peccadilloes that surfaced over the first months of their marriage.
    Originally, the plan was to live with Mort near Prospect Park, but Hanna turned out to be fertile. Almost immediately after their honeymoon, she became pregnant with twins. The idea then was to find a place of their own before she gave birth, and so Elliot looked for homes, disappointed to find that during those Carter administration years, inflation was running 20 percent with home-mortgage interest rates not much less than that. Worse, between his gambling, which had consumed more than $250,000 over the previous three years, and nonstop partying with Silvio, Elliot had almost no savings . So that even for a superstar surgeon, getting a $400,000 mortgage wasn’t easy. But how do you tell your new wife and father-in-law that?
    He’d mentioned his dilemma to Frank Silvio one afternoon washing up after surgery and the next day was contacted by Mount Sinai board member Al Rosengarten. Overlunch, Rosengarten asked him about his financial problems and was very sympathetic. “You know, Elliot, we have some friends in common, and I know they’d like to help,” the garment district tycoon offered. “Why don’t you let me see what I can do? Would you and Hanna be available for a Realtor friend of mine to show you some homes this weekend?” Elliot agreed, and that Saturday, a representative from Burgdorf took them around focusing very specifically on an estate over the bridge in Englewood, New Jersey.
    The house, a Colonial, was situated on a hill with three acres of land. It had five bedrooms, a den, playroom, two balconies , a hot tub, and Olympic-sized swimming pool. “Oh, I really love it, Elliot!” Hanna sighed, nuzzling up to him. What would a place like this cost, he wondered: $1.3 million? $999,000, bid down, maybe? “Oh, not at all, Dr. Litner!” the Realtor answered. “This home goes for $290,000.” Well, you could have knocked him over with a straw and a deep breath, and with that, he simply said, “Yes.”
    The next morning had the same ethereal quality to it as the president of Citibank called him at the hospital to apologize for the problems he’d experienced getting a mortgage approval, personally offering to walk through the $250,000 mortgage he’d be needing for the Englewood house. Then, at day’s end, Al Rosengarten came by to see how everything had gone over the weekend.
    “I-it’s unbelievable,” Elliot stuttered to the small, tightly wound, impeccably dressed man before him. “You wouldn’t believe the house we’re getting, and it’s only $290,000. I thought it’d be three times that, but I guess your friends know what they’re doing.”
    “You deserve that kind of treatment, Dr. Litner. You’re associate director of cardiac surgery at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the United States, maybe the world. Sowhy shouldn’t you get a break now and again. Good fortune is not a disease, is it?”
    “No, sir, it