Sanctuary (10 page)

“Nah.”

Marge watched as Decker smiled cryptically. She studied his face. “It’s a game with you, isn’t it?”

“Homicide is never a game.”

“Bullshit, Peter. You
want
to do this on your own time. You’re dying to prove the bastard wrong.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Marge thought a moment. “Nothing.”

Decker finally pulled into his driveway a little after eleven. He was surprised to find Rina not only waiting up for him but still in her street clothes. He asked her if everything was all right.

“Fine,” she answered. “We missed you.”

“I missed you, too. Everyone okay?”

“Dandy. Was it a fruitful night for you?”

“Not great. We’ve got one lead, Rina. A phone call made by one of the teenaged boys.”

“But that’s a lot, Peter. At least you know the boy is still alive.”

Decker didn’t answer. In fact, he didn’t know if Dov was alive or dead. Dov had made a phone call three days ago. “Why are you still up? You need your sleep.”

“I thought we might go out for a walk.”

Decker looked out his living-room picture window. It
was pouring. “I think the weather’s a tad nasty.”

“Not up for a romantic walk in the rain?”

“What’s on your mind, darlin’?”

Rina did a quick glance over her shoulder, her eyes brushing across the closed door to the guest room. She whispered, “How about we talk in the barn? Just you and me and the horses.”

Decker was tired. His head and neck ached, his shoulders were stiff and his old bullet wound throbbed. Weather like this sure didn’t help. But he tried to mask his weariness. “Sure, let’s go check on the horses and you tell me what’s on your mind.”

Rina put on her slicker. Decker hadn’t even taken his off. He slipped his arm around his wife, guided her through the kitchen, then opened the back door and a big, black umbrella. Huddled under a waterproof canopy with Ginger at their heels, they ran for the barn, their shoes muddied in the process. But once inside, the barn was warm and dry and smelled sweet from recently pitched hay. Decker turned on a hanging electric lantern which illuminated the ground with a halo of soft light. The horses were prone, surprised by the intrusion but not disturbed by it. Decker’s favorite mare, Beatrice, whinnied softly, the stray cats purred. Ginger nestled next to the tabbies and lowered her head to the ground. Decker folded the umbrella and pointed to a clean pile of hay.

“After you, madam.”

Rina took off her coat and plunked down into the hay. Decker sat next to her. “Well, it’s different.”

“I think it’s kind of romantic.”

“Ye olde variation of a roll in the hay,” Decker grinned. “What is it you don’t want Honey Klein to hear?”

“How did you know I wanted to talk about Honey?”

“Just call me Sherlock.” Decker pulled her down, then fell on top of her. “The barn does have its merits, don’t you think?”

Rina drew him into a kiss. “The hay is scratchy.”

“No prob, sugar, you can climb on top.”

Rina punched him lightly. Decker rolled her over until she was on top of his stomach and brought her into his arms. She was tense. He eased his hold.

“Rina, I don’t expect us to engage in fiery passion in a pile of hay. So just relax, okay? Tell me about Honey.”

A clap of thunder cracked through the sky. Rina startled, then cuddled deep into Peter’s broad chest. At this moment, it was wonderful to be with someone so big and protective.

Decker held his wife, kissed her forehead. “I hope Hannah doesn’t wake up. Did you bring the intercom?”

“Oh, yeah.” Rina dragged her wet slicker forward, fished through the pockets and pulled out a hand-held intercom. She turned it on. “So far so good. All quiet.”

“Tell me about Honey.”

“She finally convinced her kids to go to the zoo with her this afternoon. Convinced Minda and Mendel mainly. Mendel didn’t want to leave his
sepharim
, Minda didn’t want to leave the TV.”

“Aren’t most game shows over by the afternoon?”

“Minda discovered the Home Shopping Network.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Anyway, Honey did finally round them all up. I begged off, saying I wanted to watch Hannah because she just had her shots. It was the truth.”

“Go on.”

“I got through to Honey’s village. It took me a while to get hold of the Rebbe because the only number I had was for the local bakery. The village doesn’t have a lot of phones.”

“The Rebbe actually talked to you?”

“I claimed it was an emergency. And yes, he spoke with me. He took his time, too. He’s very…otherworldly. As I spoke with him, I felt I was talking to someone who had a direct line to the heavens. I can understand why he has so many devotees. He’s very charismatic.”

“What did he say about Honey?”

Rina looked pained.

“That bad?” Decker sat up, keeping Rina on his lap. “What?”

“According to the Rebbe, Honey’s assessment of her life was pretty accurate. Gershon was always a…different type of man. Very devout. The type of guy who refused to sit during any portion of davening. You know how long the Sabbath prayers can be.”

He did know. Even for the most no-nonsense of
minyans
—prayer gatherings—it would take at least an hour, hour and a quarter to say all the required verses. If someone wanted to add cantorial singing, the service could easily be stretched to two or more hours.

He said, “She isn’t running away from a guy because of that, is she?”

“No. I’m just trying to give you some background.”

“Go on.”

Rina cleared her throat. “Now I’ve known people who stand during the entire service. But Gershon went beyond that. On Shabbos, for instance, he’d attend both the early minyan and the regular minyan. And he’d stand through both of them.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. There is certainly no halachic basis for it. You don’t get brownie points for saying the same prayers twice.”

“So the guy’s a fanatic. Some people would call us fanatical.”

“There’s more, Peter. About a year and a half ago, something very traumatic must have happened to Gershon. Like Honey said, he won’t speak about it, but it must have been pretty bad. Because he changed drastically. He was never a friendly sort of guy, but he’d say hello or
shalom aleichem
. He was polite. Abruptly, he stopped talking to people, Peter. He stopped caring about his appearance. He stopped bathing—”

“How would the Rebbe know about his bathing habits other than through Honey?”

“Because Gershon started wandering the streets at night, talking to himself.”

Decker made a face. “Great. And we’re letting these people stay in our house.”

“Can you let me finish, please?”

Decker smiled. “Continue.”

“The Rebbe said that if anyone ran into him and asked him what he was doing all alone, talking to himself, he would say he was just trying to work things out. He was…coherent when you talked to him. But his behavior…” Rina bit her lip. “No one, including Honey or the Rebbe, was sure what exactly he was trying to work out.”

“Does he hold down a job?”

“Yes, he’s a diamond dealer—”

“That’s right. And he’s still functional as a diamond dealer?”

“Apparently,” Rina said. “They’re not millionaires, but the Rebbe says he does okay.”

“The Rebbe knows his income?”

“Gershon tithes twenty percent to charity. To the penny. He shows the Rebbe his tax statements, then makes out a check for twenty percent of the gross. By law, you only have to give away ten percent. But Gershon took it a step further. The Rebbe wouldn’t tell me how much he makes of course, but he did tell me that he makes money. That’s not the problem.”

“It could be the problem if he owes money to the wrong people.”

Rina paused. “I wouldn’t know. The Rebbe didn’t mention any threatening phone calls.”

“But Honey did.”

Rina nodded. “Maybe it’s true. Maybe it’s on Gershon’s mind. Or maybe it’s all
in
his mind. There’s more to my tale.” She sighed. “About six months ago, he declared himself a Nazir.”

“What’s a Nazir?”

“Remember Samson of Samson and Delilah fame? He was a Nazir. That’s why his hair was so long. You’ve heard of Jesus of Nazareth?”

“Slightly.”

“Some say Jesus was a Nazir—a Nazirite, I think they call it in English. If I remember correctly, Nazirites take this vow which is: They don’t drink wine or alcohol, they don’t shave or cut their hair, and they don’t defile themselves by contacting dead bodies—”

Decker laughed.

“What?”

“I’m listening to you thinking: Hey, I could manage the alcohol and hair part, but I’m not so sure I could take that ban on dead bodies—”

“No joke. You couldn’t do what you do and be a Nazir, Peter. You come into contact with dead bodies on a regular basis.”

Decker paused. She was absolutely right.

“The ban on dead bodies also means that Nazirites can’t visit cemeteries or hospitals—anyplace where a person might have died.”

Decker held her at arm’s length. “This is for real?”

Rina nodded. “Wait, it gets weirder. Gershon not only took the vows to be a Nazir, he separated from his wife.”

“Ah, so they
are
in the process of a divorce.”

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean that kind of separation. I meant a physical separation. The Rebbe wouldn’t come out and say it, but I think he meant sex. I think Gershon refuses to have sex with his wife. Now, I’m no expert on Nazirites—you’ll have to ask Rav Schulman for the specific details—but I never remember anything about Nazirites not being allowed to have sex with their wives.”

Decker stared at her. “You know, I meet a lot of strange people in my line of work. But I do believe you’ve introduced me to the strangest.”

“Peter, it isn’t funny. The Rebbe says that Honey is really suffering. She doesn’t know why he’s doing this to
her—to himself. Because he refuses to talk to anyone.”

“Did she tell the Rebbe about the strange phone calls?”

Rina nodded.

“What’d the Master say?”

“The Rebbe said that they should be careful.”

“Profound.”

“Peter, I don’t know what to do.”

“What to do?” Decker smiled. “That part’s easy. We’re doing enough by letting this woman and her kids stay with us. We’re not obliged to do anything more.”

“Peter, that sounds so cold.”

“I’m not saying kick her out. I’m just saying don’t be her shrink, okay?”

Rina didn’t answer.

Decker looked her in the eye. “
Okay
, Rina?”

“I shouldn’t listen to her problems?”

“No, as a matter of fact, you shouldn’t. She came out here to be entertained, so entertain her. Take her to Disneyland or Universal Studios—”

“I’d rather listen to her problems. It’s easier.”

Decker laughed, then lay back down in the hay. “I don’t mean to sound callous, Rina, but you’ve got your health and your family to think about. She sounds like bad news—”

“Troubled news.”

“It’s not what you need right now. It’s not what your kids need.”

“It’s not what
you
need,” Rina said.

“You’re right about that!” Decker said. “I’m working on five simultaneous cases, one I’m doing on my own time. Because my own lieutenant can’t justify my hours working on a scene with no bodies.”

“You can’t go over his head?”

“No, no, no,” Decker said. “No, you don’t go over your Loo’s head. Not without losing your own. LAPD is a military organization, honey. You either play by the rules or you’re a very lonely person.”

“That’s not fair.”

Decker laughed at her flat assessment. “No, it’s not. But thems the breaks. Anyway, tomorrow at dawn, Marge and I are going for a walk in the mountain passes to hunt for bodies. All this and we’re not even getting paid for the pleasure.”

Rina’s watch suddenly beeped. “Jeez, it’s midnight. If you’re going out at dawn, you need your
sleep
. Do you really have to get up so early?”

“’Fraid so.”

“Then I’m sorry I kept you up so late.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He pulled Rina on top of him. “Of course, you can make it up to me.”

“Here?”

“The household is asleep and we have the intercom to Hannah’s room. Why not?”

Rina laughed to herself. “I don’t know if I can do it in front of all the animals.”

Decker grinned. “Just close your eyes, sugar. I guarantee you they won’t mind a bit.”

“Your dog’s driving me nuts,” Marge complained.

Decker adjusted his backpack. “You’re just sore because you forgot your hiking boots.”

“Hell with the boots. I need cleats, it’s so damn muddy.”

“You’d make a poor foot soldier, Margie. Colonel Dunn wouldn’t approve.”

“The word ‘approve’ isn’t in the colonel’s vocab list.”

Ginger turned in circles, sniffing each morsel of ground as if it were fine wine. They had been walking for over two hours in three different secluded areas, and still the setter showed no signs of tiring. It was literally a field day for her.

Decker said, “It’s the rain. It brings up all sorts of interesting smells. It drives her nuts and she gets confused. You’ve got to remember their brains are about the size of a pea.”

“Really?”

“Maybe a large pea.”

Marge took out a plastic bag. “Then maybe we should let her sniff the clothes again.”

Decker nodded. Marge gloved her hand, then took out Dalia Yalom’s white blouse and bra along with Arik Yalom’s pants and undershirt. “Here, girl,” she said. “You’re not interested in every single turd that has ever been dropped. You’re only interested in finding these people.”

Ginger raised her head, eyed Marge quizzically, then nosed the clothing. Once again, she was off. Decker had to trot to keep pace with her.

“Does she know what she’s doing?” Marge asked, breathlessly.

Decker shrugged.

“Orit Bar Lulu is going to be pissed if we come back with nothing, especially after waking her up at five in the morning to get the clothes.”

“She’ll just have to live with the pain.” Decker tugged gently on the leash. “Slow down, girl. Give an old man a chance to enjoy the scenery.”

The mountainside was wet and soggy, the mud seeping out from under their shoes. The air was nippy and smoky with dew, but morning sunlight was beginning to filter through the fog. Decker had on a red-plaid flannel shirt, brown chino pants, and an Englishman’s cap given to him by his father-in-law, the expert on caps.
Maven
was the word Rina had used. Marge wore a cable-knit sweater under a down-filled vest, corduroy pants, and high-top sneakers. She hated jackets. They limited her mobility.