Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 07

by Sanctuary

  His ears perked up. A key being inserted into the slot. Decker jumped up and threw open the door, dragging Rina inside. She took her hand off the doorknob and held it up.

  “Wait for the speech until I get the door closed.”

  Decker didn’t move.

  Slowly, Rina freed the key from the slot and closed the door. She leaned against the wall and exhaled, waiting for the onslaught.

  Fighting control, Decker said between clenched teeth, “I don’t know whether to hang you or hug you. I vote for hug.”

  Decker gripped her so hard, he thought she’d break. Rina allowed herself to be swaddled by him. His embrace felt so protective. She was determined not to cry and was proud when the tears didn’t come. In truth, she had no energy left for weeping.

  Decker kissed his wife’s forehead. “There is an invention called a phone. Even in Israel.”

  “I didn’t have a phone card.”

  “A phone card?”

  “A plastic phone credit card to use the pay phones. And I didn’t want to stop off at the post office to buy it. Once I got into Jerusalem, I wanted to get back as quickly as possible.”

  “Why? What happened? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, Peter. But I’m hungry. Do you mind ordering up a little room service?”

  Decker dropped his arms to his sides and sat down on the bed, smoothing out his mustache with his fingertip. “I’ll be happy to order some food for you. I hope you don’t think this is too goyish, but if you do, too bad. I need a drink. A very strong drink!”

  “Get a glass of wine for me, too.”

  Decker stared at her with wide eyes. “What the hell happened, Rina?”

  “I got caught up in the situation. For future reference, I don’t think I’d make a very good cop.”

  “My fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to do my job. I’m so incredibly stupid sometimes!”

  “If we’re going to self-flagellate, I’m way ahead in the stupidity department.” She smiled at her husband, but knew it wasn’t going to assuage his wrath. “I followed Milligan, Peter. She went to Hebron.”

  Decker felt his face afire. “You followed Milligan into Hebron?”

  “Yes. And I know it was stupid beyond belief. All I got for my efforts was a shot-out window. But I’m here. I’m safe. Do you want to hear what I found out?”

  Decker slapped his forehead. “I don’t fucking believe you. How could you do that?”

  “I already said I was stupid.”

  “No, Rina. I was stupid. You were insane.”

  “I see it’s going to be one of those interchanges.” She picked up the phone and ordered room service. “I can’t fight on an empty stomach.”

  Decker stared at her, then stood up. “Pack your bags. You’re going home.”

  “Fine. It wasn’t my idea to come out here in the first place.”

  Guilt shot through Decker’s veins. He sat back down on the bed. He willed himself rational, then quietly asked, “Who shot at your car? Milligan?”

  “I have to think for a moment.” Rita sat next to him. “I don’t think it was Milligan. Because at that point, I had already stopped tailing her car. It was probably just a villager consumed with hate.”

  She began to recount her ordeal. “In Jerusalem, Milligan met up with two guys in a Fiat near the Israeli museum. The men were Arabs. One of them was named Ibri—short for Ibrahim. The other was named Gamal.”

  “How’d you find that out?”

  “I overheard them talking.”

  Decker paused. “I don’t think I want to know how that came about.”

  “Good idea,” Rina said. “Ibri was complaining to Milligan about something. She interrupted him, saying if his idea of heroism was blowing up a school bus, he was working for the wrong person. They mentioned a guy named Donald. No last name. Does he mean anything to you?”

  “No.”

  “Ibri said they worked for Donald, not Milligan. Milligan said that Donald worked for her. Then Ibri offered to take Milligan to see Donald. Gamal took Milligan’s Volvo into the Old City of Jerusalem. Ibri and Milligan went to Hebron. I stopped following them when the car went up an isolated road. I turned around, planned to go back, then someone shot out the window. Luckily, I caught up with an IDF jeep. I went to the Cave of the Patriarchs—”

  “Wasn’t that the place where the massacre took place?”

  “Yes. But it’s pretty secure now.”

  “Oh, I feel so much better.”

  Rina ignored the sarcasm. “I left the city with a caravan of army jeeps.”

  She took Peter’s hand. “Milligan had to catch an important meeting at the American Colonial Inn. The hotel is in East Jerusalem. Not for Jews, but the place is popular with non-Jewish tourists and reporters. We should check Milligan out. I got the willies when she talked about blowing up a school bus.”

  “What? You think that’s actually in the planning?”

  “No, but—”

  “Oh shit!” Decker began to pace. “If so, we should call the police immediately.”

  “And tell them what?”

  “That you overheard a conversation where Milligan talked about blowing up a school bus.”

  “Peter, she might have been using strong words to prove a point. If we report it as fact and nothing comes of it, you’re going to lose credibility with the police. But I realize we just can’t let a comment like that slip away.” She looked at her husband. “First, tell me who Milligan is and why you’re so interested in her.”

  Decker started from the beginning, explaining Milligan’s career in VerHauten, segueing into her financial involvement in companies also carried by the late Arik Yalom. He recapped his conversation with Marge: how Milligan could make a fortune if VerHauten ever decided to develop Southwest Mines. But Arik Yalom’s interest in the company seemed to be a sticking point. Then Yalom was murdered, and Gold and the boys disappeared to Israel. Suddenly Milligan was here, too, asking questions about Shaul Gold.

  “Does Gold actually own Arik’s portion of Southwest Mine stock?” Rina asked.

  “I’m not sure. But that’s my assumption.”

  “Him and not the boys?”

  Decker sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe the boys do own it and that’s why they fled. But if that was the case, why would Milligan be asking about Gold?”

  “Well, she couldn’t ask the grandparents about the boys. That would be pretty obvious, right?”

  “You’re thinking that Milligan’s trying to get to the boys via Gold.”

  “Isn’t it a possibility, especially since Gold is looking for the boys?”

  Decker paused. “You’re very bright. So now I don’t know who to be worried for first. The boys or a school bus.” He ran his hand over his face. “What I’d like to know is, who were these men Milligan was talking to?”

  “If she’s out to get someone…the boys or Gold…maybe they were hired help, Peter.”

  “These men were hit men?”

  “Why not?” Rina asked.

  “Because why would a woman of Milligan’s smarts and stature travel all the way to Israel—a land I’m sure she doesn’t know much about—to murder Gold or the boys. She’d hire out.”

  “Maybe that’s what she was doing. Maybe she came here to hire some locals to kill them.”

  “Unless these men were very good friends of hers, I think she’d be taking a very big chance.”

  “Maybe they’re not good friends of hers. But maybe Donald is. Donald certainly isn’t an Arab name.”

  “You’re right. Who is this Donald?”

  The room fell quiet.

  Rina laughed, “Well, we can go to the American Colonial Inn, pull Milligan out of the meeting, and ask her.”

  “A fine idea in theory,” Decker said. “It’s the practical application. So much is going on…I’ve got to sort all this out. I don’t want to act rashly.”

  “Peter, why are you here?”

  A very good question. It put every
thing into perspective. “To find the Yalom boys before someone else does them harm.”

  “I think it’s a very good idea to investigate Milligan. And we probably should call or go to the police and tell them what I overheard. But if you think the boys are in grave danger, they should be our top priority.”

  “Right,” Decker said. “You’re right again. We can’t get sidetracked too much. Yes, we’ll report what you heard. But I’ve got to remember why I’m here. Gold is looking for the boys, Milligan’s looking for Gold. If I find the boys, I’m betting I’ll find Milligan and Gold as well.” He turned to Rina. “You know this country. Where do you think they’d be?”

  “First thought?” She shrugged. “Well, you mentioned something about Dov wanting to be religious but his father wouldn’t let him. Maybe he’s hiding in a yeshiva. There are quite a few ba’alei tchuvah places in Jerusalem that take in American boys, no questions asked. And, let’s face it. All those boys in black coats and hats look alike, tough for a killer to spot him. Plus, it’s hard to get inside a yeshiva unless you know the ropes.”

  “You think Gold would know the ropes?”

  “Possibly,” Rina said. “But as an Israeli, he probably doesn’t know too much about ba’alei tchuvah yeshivas for Americans. By this time, the Yalom boys are more American than Israeli.”

  Decker agreed. There was a knock at the door. Immediately, Decker’s heart started pumping hard. Maybe someone had followed Rina back to the hotel. He put his finger to his lips and quietly got off the bed.

  “Peter,” Rina whispered. “It’s probably room service.”

  He let out a big laugh. Mr. Paranoid! Still, he wasn’t taking any chances. He chained the door before he opened it and insisted that Rina duck out of sight. Better to feel silly than sorry.

  It was room service—a waiter named Mohammed. Decker signed the bill but gave the young man a cash tip. Apparently, it was generous because Mohammed grinned, sporting a clear view of his gold front tooth.

  Rina ritually washed her hands, then bit into her sandwich. She was ravenous and it was delicious. Decker sipped his Scotch, noticing that Rina was gulping her wine. She was more nervous than he had ever seen her. Didn’t stop her intellect. Matter of fact, it heightened it.

  She said, “We really should go to Jerusalem. That’s where the two big ba’alei tshuvah yeshivas are. Milligan’s there. And so are the national police headquarters located at French Hill.”

  Decker wiped his mouth. “Then let’s do it.”

  Rina finished her sandwich. “Peter, you said that the boys fled shortly after they came home from school. What caused them to run away? The house hadn’t been trashed, had it?”

  Decker shook his head no.

  “So from the boys’ perspectives,” Rina went on, “they just walked in their front door and saw that their parents weren’t home. Why would the boys have taken off?”

  Another very good question. If the boys weren’t involved, how did they know something was amiss. He said, “The only thing I can think of is that the parents left them a sign.”

  “A sign?”

  “A signal of some sort.” Decker thought out loud. “Arik knew that Milligan had a lot to gain if she could get hold of his stocks. Maybe he knew she was capable of doing some pretty ruthless things to further her ambition. So he was worried. He told his sons that if they ever came home and saw such-and-such picture was crooked, or if such-and-such lamp—”

  Decker suddenly stopped talking.

  “What?” Rina asked.

  Decker’s eyes were on Rina, but his mind was elsewhere. “Or if a certain porcelain dog was turned around…” He wagged his finger in the air. “If you see that damn dog in the open shelf in the entry hall turned around, you go grab the money I left hidden for you in the inside mezuzah, you go grab your passports, and you get out of town immediately!”

  His focus returned to Rina.

  “There was a porcelain dog sitting in Yalom’s entry hall facing backward. It would have been a very easy thing for Arik Yalom to do. Just a simple flick of the wrist on his way out the front door. The boys saw it and fled.”

  “They must be terrified.”

  “I’m sure they are.” Suddenly, Decker pulled his wife into an embrace. “I love you so damn much!”

  “I like it when you’re passionate.”

  “That’s not passion, baby, that’s relief.” Decker blew out air. “Let’s go find the boys.”

  Decker opened the door, then turned to his wife. “By the way. Did I mention that Honey Klein’s probably in Israel?”

  Rina stopped in her tracks. “What? She’s here? You can’t just drop that on me, Peter!”

  Decker slipped his arm around Rina’s shoulder and scooted her out the door. “Tell you all about it on the ride over to Jerusalem.”

  31

  Rina looked out to a grove of sunflowers, stalks bending under the weight of their fruit, black faces with golden manes craning their necks toward the sunlight. Her eyes stared out the window, but her mind was on other things. She couldn’t believe that Honey Klein had set out to murder her husband. The police and their conclusions just didn’t square with the girl Rina had known, the woman and mother who had visited their home.

  She faced her husband. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe it.”

  Decker said, “Honey was trapped. As long as Gershon refused to give her a Jewish divorce—a get—she couldn’t go on with her life. She couldn’t see her way out of the relationship, so she took matters into her own hands.”

  “Honey would not kill her husband.”

  “And why not? Jews aren’t immune to abject despair that leads to immoral acts.”

  “You think she could live with herself and with her children, knowing that she purposely murdered their father?”

  “How about if the father was abusing the kids?”

  A horn honked from behind, a flash of lights in the rearview mirror. Peter glanced over his shoulder, then looked at the speedometer. “I’m going over a hundred kilometers. What the hell does he want from me?”

  “Just let him pass.”

  “Jerk.” Decker pulled to the side and let a red Honda speed by. “I wish I had my unmarked…pull out the light and flash the mother. Man, I’d love to give him a ticket.”

  “He wasn’t, you know.”

  “Who wasn’t? What are you talking about?”

  “Gershon Klein. He wasn’t physically abusing the children.”

  Decker’s attention was still focused on the obnoxious driver. He turned to Rina. “How do you know?”

  Rina blew out air. “Because I asked her.”

  “When was this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We never had time to talk about it. I was going to tell you, but then Honey disappeared. You were preoccupied with this big murder case. I didn’t want to disturb your concentration. I thought about it on the plane ride but you slept the whole way—”

  “You slept. I didn’t sleep a wink. Too busy being serenaded by fifty throat-cracking adolescents singing Crash Test Dummies songs in Spanish.”

  “Well, for whatever reason, we didn’t talk.”

  Decker said, “You specifically asked Honey if Gershon was abusing the kids?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did she say?”

  “She said something like…” Rina sighed. “Oh boy, here goes. She said she’d kill him if he ever did that—”

  “Oh boy is right!”

  “No, Peter, it wasn’t like that. You’re taking her words out of context. She went on to say that Gershon had been a good man and a wonderful father—”

  “Yeah, she was friggin’ in love with the guy. That’s why she was trying to divorce him.”

  “She was cognizant of his problems. She knew he wasn’t…how did she put it…he wasn’t meant for organized life anymore.”

  Decker said, “The woman did him in, Rina. Trust me on this one.”

  Another honk from behind. Decker yanked
the wheel to the right and allowed the Camry to pass. “I’m Jewish and they’re pissing me off. I could only imagine what a goy would think.”

  “It’s a young country.”

  “It’s in its late forties.”

  “That’s a country in its teens. And like lots of adolescents we know and love, it has no manners. Give it time.”

  “What were we talking about?”

  “Gershon Klein.”

  “Did Honey happen to mention to you that she was trying to divorce the guy?”

  “No—”

  “Yeah, she conveniently forgot that.”

  “I think one of the kids walked in.”

  The car began to balk as it made its climb through the mountains, toward Jerusalem. The air was clean and filled with the tang of pines.

  “Peter, does it make sense for Honey to murder Gershon by drowning him in a bathtub?”

  “It was probably the most effective weapon she had in the house.”

  “Then why would she bother to shoot him, drag him over to his office, then trash the place to make it look like a robbery?”

  Decker was quiet. “I haven’t worked that part out yet.”

  Another blast from a horn. This time it was a woman who passed him. Equal opportunity rudeness. Decker said, “Why do they have a stupid law like that on the books?”

  Rina turned to him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Why can’t a woman file for a Jewish divorce? The law is so damn archaic as well as sexist. It’s unfair enough to raise even your underdeveloped feminist hackles.”

  The car turned silent.

  Decker said, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I didn’t mean to be hurtful. I’m sorry.”

  “Peter, where is it written that you can’t be traditional and a feminist at the same time? One doesn’t preclude the other.”

  “You’re right. I apologize—”

  “I know who I am and I’m happy. There are still a few relics like me who are proud to be full-time mothers.”

  “I’m proud of you, Rina. I’m proud of who you are and I wouldn’t want you to change for the world.”

  He was really trying! Biting back a smile, Rina gave him a mock sneer. “You’re just kissing up to me because you’re lost in Israel without me.”