Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 14

by Stone Kiss

  “I was under the impression that he didn’t do anything. That things simply improved.”

  “So he didn’t give you any specifics?”

  “No.”

  “What about Ephraim? Did he give you any explanation for the turnaround?”

  “No, he didn’t say anything to me. I always had the feeling that it took all of Ephraim’s energies just to be Ephraim. He was dealing with his own set of problems.”

  “I’m going to think out loud,” Decker said. “Don’t take offense.”

  “I understand.”

  “Chaim borrows from the bank to expand the business, then falls into deep debt. Recession hits and business turns terrible. He borrows here, he borrows there—from relatives, maybe from friends, to scratch by, to put the bankers at bay. But it’s not enough. He gets panicky enough to ask you to do something illegal—”

  “I don’t know if he viewed it as illegal.”

  “It’s iffy at best, Jonathan. And even after you explained it to him, which I’m sure you did and in great detail, he balks. He stops speaking to you. Your words, right?”

  Jonathan was silent, masking his apprehension by concentrating on his driving.

  “Then all of a sudden, things turn around,” Decker said.

  “I don’t know if it was all of a sudden,” Jonathan said.

  “Business was slowly getting better, you said. Let me parse this out for a moment. Business slowly getting better doesn’t mean a sudden influx of money—enough so that you’re no longer worried about loan officers breathing down your neck. Business slowly getting better implies a stretched-out process.”

  Jonathan said, “I’m not following you.”

  “That’s because I’m working this through as I go along,” Decker told him. “Okay. We have this slow recovery. But then I’m told that Ephraim was upset about Chaim’s business practices. So you know what I’m thinking, Jon. I’m thinking that Chaim wasn’t relying on his slowly recovering business to pull him through. I’m thinking that maybe the guy suddenly came into quick cash—possibly by illegal means. More than likely by illegal means—unless you know of any fortuitous inheritances.”

  “You’re making major leaps, Akiva.”

  “Yeah, that’s the fun part of what I do. The messy part is getting evidence to back up my ideas. Now let me play this out for a moment. The easiest way for Chaim to get illegal cash is by insurance fraud. Trouble is, claims take time. The turnabout was rather on the sudden side, correct?”

  “I don’t know how sudden it was.”

  “Well, how many months was it from the time he asked to borrow the shul’s money to the time you two reconciled?”

  Jonathan tapped the wheel. “About three months.”

  “Must have been a hell of a three-month upturn in sales, Jon. Now if it were during Christmastime, maybe. But we’re talking from June to September—traditionally slow retail months. Forgive my skepticism.”

  Decker’s stomach growled.

  “Take a sandwich,” Jonathan told him. “I’ve got tuna or chicken.”

  “Which one do you want?”

  “I honestly don’t care.”

  “Then I’ll take the chicken.” Decker rummaged through his half brother’s briefcase until he found the plastic bag and the sandwiches inside. “What do you do when you can’t wash?”

  “Just make Hamotzei. I’ve also got some fruit, chips, and a couple of diet Cokes. Raisie has a stake in feeding my gut. Help yourself.”

  Decker said a prayer and bit into his lunch. “Thanks, I’m really starved. Should we continue?”

  “You mean should you continue.”

  “Yeah, I am doing most of the talking. Anything you’d like to add?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “Where was I?”

  “Chaim’s upsurge in business during the summertime.”

  “You’re paying attention.”

  “I always was a good student.” Jonathan’s voice was bitter.

  Decker took another bite. “So how did Chaim get the money? Like I said before, insurance fraud not only takes time, but also the policyholder raises a red flag by making too many claims. Now, I was told that when you want big cash from insurance, you destroy the entire stock in one fell swoop courtesy of a professional arsonist. But even if they pay off and you get the cash, it won’t get you quick cash. For the same reason— claims take time, especially big ones. There would be a major investigation. So I’m asking myself what could Chaim do to generate quick cash.”

  “And what have you concluded?”

  “Several things.” Decker washed down the chicken-salad sandwich with his Diet Coke. “This is perfect. Thanks. You’re not hungry?”

  “Actually, I am.”

  Decker unwrapped the tuna sandwich for him. Jonathan said a prayer and took a bite. “So how would Chaim get quick cash?”

  “Money laundering through his business, possibly. Chaim takes a cut of whatever he cleans. But then I have to ask myself how would Ephraim have found out about a money-laundering scheme since he wasn’t in charge of any of the finances, didn’t have any bookkeeping records or anything from the bank. So laundering wouldn’t be my first choice.”

  Jonathan finally made it onto the HH Parkway. It was bumper to bumper. He hoped the traffic would clear once he made it past the city. “So what would be your first choice?”

  “Narcotics. Drugs. Since you’re my rabbi—and you’re confidentially bound—let me tell you what my brother Randy, the Miami Vice cop, told me.” He recapped his conversation with Randy. “It seems that our brethren have been naughty boys regarding the illegal transport and sales of MDMA, better known as ecstasy. As a matter of fact, I recall a big scandal about New York Chasidim bringing in the drug. Am I right about this?”

  “It was years ago.”

  “About three years ago,” Decker corrected. “And it did have reverberations in the communities. So what do you think?”

  “If I’m correct about this, you’re deducing that Chaim got some money by being a courier of ecstasy.”

  “Actually, I’m thinking out loud.”

  “Then let me think along with you. Wouldn’t being a courier imply that Chaim had made frequent trips to Israel or to Europe where the drug was manufactured and then back?”

  Decker didn’t answer. He knew what was coming.

  Jonathan said, “I don’t think Chaim’s left New York for the last ten years.”

  “Maybe he didn’t do it bit by bit—or trip by trip. Maybe he did it in one big trip with one big score. You wouldn’t know if he took a quick trip or not, would you?”

  “No.”

  “I think the only way to know about his travels would be to check his passport.” Decker smiled. “Now there’s an idea.”

  “Forget it, Akiva.”

  “What would it hurt?”

  “You want me to go over to Chaim while he’s sitting shiva for his slain daughter and brother and ask him about his passport?”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Definitely not!”

  “You’re right,” Decker said.

  They crawled along the parkway in silence, both of them wolfing down the homemade lunch. When the van finally left the city limits—heading upstate via the Saw Mill Parkway—traffic eased, and the wheels began turning at a nice clip. Feeling better with food in his stomach, Jonathan resumed the conversation.

  “Do you have anything else to say, Akiva?”

  Decker spoke carefully. “Just that maybe Ephraim found out about Chaim’s drug dealing and considered telling your father-in-law.”

  “Ephraim wouldn’t… tattle on Chaim—especially if it were a one-shot done deal. What would be the point? To give an old man heartbreak? Besides, if Chaim did score big—one time—it would have been at least six months ago, after Chaim told me that the business was looking up. So how would that fit in with Ephraim’s so-called ongoing business conflicts with Chaim?”

  A good point. “Maybe he scored
more than once.”

  “Then he would have made frequent trips abroad. I’ve already told you that he didn’t. We’re back to where we started.”

  “Well, maybe he was debating another big score, but this time Ephraim found out.”

  “And how would Ephraim have found out? Frankly put, the two men didn’t like each other. They rarely talked and only to keep peace in the family. Ephraim thought that Chaim was a self-righteous prig, and Chaim thought Ephraim was an irresponsible jerk. They kept their personal business very separate from one another.”

  “But they did intersect in some capacity.”

  “In some limited capacity, yes.”

  “In business specifically,” Decker said.

  “Yes.”

  Inventory, Decker thought. Ephraim was in charge of inventory. “Hey, how about this, Jonathan? Maybe Chaim didn’t make frequent trips abroad. But maybe his products did. What about the merchandise? Did he import stock from Europe or Israel?”

  “The family operates on high volume, low price. They buy cheaper wares that come from Asia, lots of Korean-made—”

  “Well, isn’t Haifa a major port stop from Asia? Rotterdam too? I mean, how easy would it be to take off the backs of the computers or stereos or VCRs or portable phones or CD players and slip in a dozen bags of ecstasy pills. It wouldn’t have to be even that much. Say you bring in ten thousand pills a load, which is not very much to hide in big electronic equipment. At twenty-bucks-a-pop street value, you’re talking around a quarter of a million dollars a shipment. And how many shipments does Chaim get in a year?”

  It was a rhetorical question. Jonathan didn’t respond.

  Decker said, “It’s much easier to stuff the contraband into merchandise than to bring it across with people. And way more practical. Even if customs were to check for drugs, maybe they’d check one or two pallets. They’re not going to go through the entire shipment unless they’re suspicious, right?”

  Decker was becoming animated.

  “Ephraim’s doing inventory one day, checking numbers on a list with numbers of the actual wares, and a back falls off a VCR. He suddenly discovers a bag of pills that was accidentally left behind. He knows instantly what’s going on because he was a former drug addict. He goes to confront his brother but—”

  “Forget it,” Jonathan said quietly.

  “What?”

  “I said, forget it!” Jonathan’s face turned hard. “Screwing Chaim isn’t going to bring either Ephraim or Shayndie back to life. The family has already been destroyed, Akiva, do you hear me! Destroyed. My wife has been destroyed! I will not be a part of this. I will not bring any more misery to my family!”

  “Even if there’s evidence Chaim set up Ephraim?”

  “But you don’t have that evidence, do you?”

  “Well, no, not yet—”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute!” Abruptly, the rabbi’s face broke, tears rolling down his cheeks, blotted up by his beard. “If you want to come after someone—if you need to come after someone—then damn it, come after me!”

  “What are you talking about, Jon?” Decker studied his brother. “What’s wrong?”

  Without warning, Jonathan jerked the van sideways, swinging it onto the shoulder of the expressway. He almost skidded out as the van bounced on wet dirt and gravel and small patches of ice. He killed the motor, slumped over the steering wheel, and sobbed. When he spoke, Decker could hardly understand him.

  “I messed up, Akiva,” Jonathan choked out.

  “What? How?” Decker touched his shoulder, then slipped his arm around him. “C’mon, buddy, it can’t be that bad. Talk to me.”

  “It is that bad!”

  “Talk to me anyway.”

  He lifted his head, his eyes wet and red. “I messed up… with Shaynda. I lied to you. I… lied.”

  Vehicles were zipping past them, narrowly missing the van’s tail-lights. Heart hammering in his chest, Decker waited.

  “She called me—Shayndie called me.”

  Decker held his breath. “When?”

  “The morning she was murdered! That’s why it was such a shock! I had just spoken to her about three hours earlier.”

  “Around seven in the morning, then,” Decker said. “Did she call you at home?”

  The rabbi nodded. “She called me…” He strangled on a deep sigh. “She said she was okay… that she was being taken care of. But I couldn’t tell anyone—not even her parents, especially not her parents, especially not her father. She had sneaked out to call me, but it was against the rules if she wanted to stay where she was. If he found out that she broke the rules, he’d kick her out. So she had to go back really quickly… before anyone found out.”

  “Who’s he?” Decker asked.

  Jonathan shrugged helplessly. “We spoke for about… one, two minutes. Then she said she had to go. Just please, please don’t tell anyone that she had called.” He looked at Decker with puffy eyes. “I begged her to tell me where she was. I begged her to tell me who she was with. Of course she refused. Just that she was being taken care of by someone big and powerful. And that she was okay.”

  A long silence.

  “I told Chaim,” Jonathan admitted. “I couldn’t help it, Akiva. I just… he was my brother-in… if it had been my daughter…”

  He turned away, beside himself with despair.

  “I told him that he couldn’t tell anyone. I told him it was imperative that he kept this between the two of us. But he probably told Minda. Maybe she told the wrong person… I don’t know. I’m plagued with the thought that I inadvertently set her up.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it—”

  “She begged me not to tell anyone.…I should have taken it as a warning. Maybe my phone was tapped. Or maybe Chaim’s phone was tapped when I called to tell him. I should have pressed her to tell me more, but it was so short…”

  “If she called you at home, we could trace the call. It’s probably a phone booth, but that could give us an approximate location of where she was staying… assuming that she walked over to the phone booth.”

  “I should have gone to you.” Jonathan wiped his eyes. “Asked you for advice before I acted. The way I did it… not only did I break confidentiality… but it may have cost Shayndie her life.”

  Decker exhaled, then shrank in his seat. Jonathan misinterpreted his body language. “You despise me.”

  The laughter from Decker’s throat was strong and sour. “Oh my my!” He turned to his brother. “You think you screwed up, guy?” He looked at the van’s ceiling. “I messed up big time! I saw her, Jonathan. I saw her and let her go—”

  “What?”

  “I let her go because she was being protected… or so I thought.”

  “What? Who?”

  “It’s better if you don’t know,” Decker said.

  Jonathan grabbed Decker’s shoulders, fury in his eyes. “I just bared my soul to you. Your response is not good enough!”

  Decker’s immediate reaction was to punch back figuratively, but he stopped himself. Jon was right. He clasped his hands to prevent them from hitting or shaking. His heart was beating so rapidly, he felt choked off from oxygen.

  Steady, steady!

  “Okay…” He caught his breath. “Okay, here’s the deal. If we’re going to sort this out, we’ve got to lay it all out in the open. But nothing—and I mean nothing—goes beyond the van!”

  No one spoke. Cars continued to speed by, front bumpers perilously close to the van’s rear end. Decker grumbled, “We should get off the shoulder before we get hit.”

  “In a minute.” Jonathan raked his beard with his fingernails, breathing hard. “Okay. It stays between the two of us. Who was Shayndie staying with?”

  It took a few moments for Decker to get the name out. “Christopher Donatti.”

  Jonathan’s expression was stunned. “Christopher Dona—”

  “Ever hear of him?”

  “Of course, I’ve heard of him. His
father’s trial was front-page news for six months! What the hell was she doing with him? What the hell were you doing with him?”

  “I’ll answer your second question first. When Ephraim’s murder scene was examined, one of the cops mentioned that the hit looked like Donatti’s work, but probably wasn’t—too low level and too sloppy. But having nothing else to go on, I went to see him.”

  “You went to see Christopher Donatti?”

  “Yes, I went to see him.”

  “Just like that?”

  “If you let me explain—”

  “You went to see a hit man!” Jonathan was agitated. “Not just any hit man. You went to call on one of the most notorious criminals in mob history whose father ran the New York Family for over fifteen years? And for what reason?”

  “Could you get the sarcasm out of your voice. It’s pissing me off.”

  Jonathan looked away. “I’m just… speechless.”

  Silence.

  “I apologize for my rudeness,” Jonathan whispered.

  Decker said, “S’right. I deserve it.”

  “No, you don’t. I assume you were trying your best.…” Jonathan blew out air, then wiped his smudged glasses with his handkerchief. “Why did you go to see Donatti if you suspected him of killing Ephraim?”

  “I didn’t suspect Donatti because the cops didn’t suspect him.” Decker became morose. “I went for help, Jonathan. Donatti and I had a past history together. I thought he might be a good source of information.…” Decker hit the dashboard. “It was asinine! I’m a stupid schmuck, okay?”

  “You’re not a schmuck, and you certainly aren’t stupid.” Jonathan sighed. “Who knows what drives our actions? We think we do, but we don’t. God is behind everything and He may have had His reasons.”

  “That’s kind of you to say.”

  “I’m certainly in no position to judge, am I?”

  No one spoke as cars continued to speed by.

  Decker continued. “I saw Donatti a few times. He told me he had her.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Donatti collects runaway kids—strays. Young girls and gay boys with nowhere else to go. He uses them… pimps them—”

  “Oh my God! Did he—”

  “No, no. He didn’t pimp her. She hadn’t been with him long enough. He had picked up Shayndie over the weekend… before I got to him. But he didn’t tell me right away. We had to play this little cat-and-mouse game first. That’s how it’s always been between us—head games. Later on, he told me he had her. He said he told me as a favor so I wouldn’t worry about her and I could concentrate on Ephraim’s murder. At the time, I thought he was being truthful, but you can’t tell with psychos. The man is a stone-cold killer and a pathological liar. You work with whatever you can get.”