On Friday, at around 8 a.m., Labor MK Binyamin Ben-Eliezer called me. He wanted to respond to my latest column. Relying on information provided to me by the Jerusalem-based lawyer Theodor Oryan, I had written that Ben-Eliezer's past conduct disqualified the presidential hopeful. During our phone conversation, Ben-Eliezer stressed that his hands were clean, that the purported wrongdoing was unfounded, and that he had earned every penny he had spent. He made his point. Later that day, at the police station in Lod, he was asked to explain why his bank account saw some mysterious transactions. After he finished that ordeal, I asked him whether he knew he would be heading to the police station when he rang me up that morning. "I had no idea," he answered. "This is part of an ongoing witch hunt that was launched when I bought my new home in Jaffa over a year ago. I hope all ends well." But all did not end well. Less than 24 hours later, he would drop out of the race. The former defense minister and Labor Party chairman has a long, treacherous road ahead. It won't be "set about with lilies" (Song of Songs 7:2). The unraveling of his candidacy has unleashed a torrent of misguided sound bites suggesting the system is what brought him down; a chorus of commentators could be heard lamenting that if only the public, rather than the Knesset, elected the president things would have unfolded differently. Well, that is not true. When it comes to alleged corruption, what difference does it make who is vested with the power to vote for president? The allegations will be as true (or as false) regardless of whether the candidates are on a nationwide ballot or just a secret Knesset ballot. In the wake of his decision, everyone appeared to wish Ben-Eliezer well; especially his rivals, who breathed a sigh of relief. They said they hoped the police investigation would be shut and that investigators find no evidence of misconduct or even better, that they clear him of any crimes. They duly noted that he is still innocent until proven guilty. Having said all that, Ben-Eliezer had no choice but to end his campaign. Because the money that was allegedly deposited into his back account set off many alarm bells and created a cloud of suspicion, and because even those who were convinced by his explanations no longer considered him presidential material. A high-ranking elected official should never borrow money from someone like Avraham Nanikashvili, even if the businessman loans the money through legal means. An even greater sin would be to take such a loan and keep it. Maybe this was not really a loan, considering that Ben-Eliezer has allegedly yet to pay back the money -- some three years after the purported transaction. While there is no smoking gun that would point to a quid pro quo, such funds are tainted by their very nature, even if they were not used as bribe money but were simply handed to him in envelopes without expecting anything in return. Even if Ben-Eliezer's conduct does not rise to the level of outright bribery, by accepting the money he may have violated other sections of the penal code and could face breach of trust and fraud charges. Regardless of whether there was criminal misconduct, Ben-Eliezer shirked his moral duties to abide by proper norms. The Ben-Eliezer investigation is a spinoff from the much larger investigation into the alleged corruption in the Ashdod Port and in Shemen Oil & Gas Resources Ltd. The probe has resulted in an ever-increasing list of would-be suspects. They are all pieces of one giant puzzle, be it because they are suspected of outright crimes or because they are somehow associated with the alleged offenders. Rabbi Yoshiyahu Pinto, union leader Alon Hassan, businessman Jacky Ben-Zaken, former Israel Defense Forces Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. (res.) Gabi Ashkenazi, Nanikashvili and Ben-Eliezer are the main the protagonists. The new revelations and the scope of the alleged corruption may be depressing to some, but I believe this housecleaning is a welcome development.