Faye Kellerman - Decker 04 - Day of Atonement
Page 14
'What is it?' Decker said.
Moshe focused his eyes on his lap. 'It's really no big... well, it is a big deal if my parents and teachers ever found out. I don't want you to think I'm a pervert or gross or anything. It just happened to be there when Noam passed around the magazine.'
'A dirty magazine?' Decker said.
Moshe nodded.
Smiling, Ephraim said, 'This is interesting.'
'Shut up,' Moshe said to his brother.
From People to porno. Decker said, 'Know where he got hold of it?'
'No.'
'How many times did he show it to you?'
This time, the boy was red. 'Maybe... a couple of times.'
'A couple is two times, Moshe,' Decker said. 'I'm not asking you these questions to get you into trouble or embarrass you. I'm asking them because they help me find out what kind of a boy Noam is and it's always
easier to find someone you understand than a mystery person. See what I'm saying?'
Moshe nodded.
Decker said, 'How many times did he show you the magazine?'
'Maybe five times.'
' Very interesting,' Ephraim said.
Moshe lit into him. 'You tell Abba and you're dead.'
'I wouldn't do that, Moshe,' Ephraim said. 'Even I have a code of honor.'
The kid seemed sincere. Decker felt better. He asked, 'Was it always the same magazine?'
'Two different ones,' Moshe said.
'Were they Playboys - just naked women - more explicit?'
'No... they were... more... explicit,' Moshe said.
'Where'dhegetthem?'
'That I don't know... honest.'
'I believe you,' Decker said.
'He used to bring them to school,' Moshe said. 'Once I almost got caught. That was it. I told him not to show them to me... at least not at school. It just wasn't worth what would happen if we got caught.'
'Did he show them to anyone else?'
'I don't think I should get anyone else in trouble.'
'Moshe, New York is a dangerous place for an adult, let alone a kid your age. He's easy prey for all types of perverts and felons. No one's going to get in trouble, I personally promise you that.'
Moshe sighed. 'There was a group of us. Chaim Belser, David Ramy, Yossie Weinstein, and Menachem Takinoff. Noam had a few of the magazines; once
Yossie Weinstein brought in one, too. David, Chaim, Menachem, and I... we just looked.'
All the boy's names were on Jonathan's list. Man had good instincts. Would have made a good detective...
'You've been great,' Decker said.
'I just hope I don't regret this,' Moshe said.
Decker smiled, patted the kid's fuzzy cheeks. 'Your parents ask you what we talked about, say mostly sports, a little about Noam, OK?'
The boys nodded.
'You boys ever make it out to L.A.,' Decker said, 'and if it's OK with your parents, I'll take you and my boys out to Disneyland.'
'Really?' they said in unison.
'That's a promise,' Decker said. He smiled at them. Their eyes were gleaming. He left, heartened to see that there were still some children allowed to remain children.
Shimon asked how did the interviewing go. Decker said it went fine. Their next stop was Yossie Weinstein's house. Shimon said they were closer to the Belsers, but Decker said he wanted to talk to Yossie before he talked to any of the others.
'Why Yossie?' Shimon asked.
'Because he seemed to be the closest to Noam,' Decker said. 'By the way, just do what you did at the Greitzman house. You handled the parents perfectly. Made my job a snap.'
'We're a good team, huh?' Shimon said.
Decker stopped walking for a moment, feeling his throat tighten. He suddenly longed to reach out to Shimon, to embrace him. Caught in a cruel practical joke. He swallowed back an emotional swelling, held himself in check. He resumed his pace and softly said, 'Yeah, we're a great team.'
'You work with a partner?' Shimon asked.
'I'm not assigned a partner, per se,' Decker said. 'But if I do team up, it's usually with a woman named Marge Dunn. Man, I sure wish she was here now. We bounce a lot of ideas off each other. You need someone like that.'
'You work with a woman?' Shimon said.
•Sure.'
'And Rina doesn't mind?'
Decker smiled. 'No, Rina doesn't mind.'
They walked a few moments in silence.
'Your partner - or sort of partner,' Shimon said. 'She's young?'
'Marge is thirty-one. She's five ten, one hundred sixty pounds.'
'A big woman.'
'A big woman,' Decker said. 'You wouldn't want to confront her when she was mad. She and Rina seem to get along.'
'They're friends?'
'Well, not friends exactly. They just know each other through me.'
Shimon said, 'My wife chose my secretary. She's sixty years old, ninety pounds, and wears too much perfume. Not lovely to look at, but very efficient.'
'I'll take efficiency over looks any day of the week,' Decker said.
'Marge is ugly?'
'No, Marge isn't ugly at all. She's actually quite attractive if you like big Nordic women.'
•She's blond?'
'Blond with dark eyes,' Decker said. 'She's got great eyes; they inspire trust. Kids love her; our rape survivors confide in her. That's the kind of partner you want. Someone you can depend on, someone who's good.'
'That makes sense,' Shimon said.
They took a few more steps without speaking.
Shimon said, 'She's single, this Marge?'
•Yeah.'
'You're not distracted by her?'
'Distracted by Marge?' Decker laughed. 'She keeps my mind on work, not off of it. She's a great cop.'
'You like her,' Shimon said.
'She's a good friend,' Decker said.
Shimon put his hands in his coat pockets and shrugged.
To him, Decker realized, the idea of women friends was as alien as pork. In this community, working closely with a woman could only lead to trouble. But his half brother happened to be a nice guy and was trying hard not to be judgmental. Decker felt that was worth some points.
They stopped walking and Shimon pointed to another small brick townhouse.
'Here's where the Weinsteins live,' he said. 'Tell me, Akiva, am I as good a partner as your great cop and friend, Marge?'
'Shimon, my man, you're the only one in town who could pull off this assignment. And that's no lie.'
'Eem yirtzah Hashem, all my talents won't go to waste.' Shimon turned serious. 'Do you think we'll find him, Akiva?'
'I don't know,' Decker answered. 'But we'll do whatever we can.'
'Ultimately, it's up to God,' Shimon said.
That was true, Decker thought. But just in case the Old Man was overbooked at this time of year, he was going to do his damnedest to take the case off His hands.
Unlike the Greitzman boys, Yossie Weinstein seemed scared. He was a tall, slender boy, very pale with hazel eyes and ash-colored kinky hair. His features were long;
two weals of pimples dotted his cheeks. He slept in a converted closet off his older brother's room. He sat on his bed; Decker sat next to him. The boy's breath smelted of garlic and onions. A protoplasmic grease stain decorated his.shirt. Decker asked him if he knew who he was and Yossie identified him as Stimuli and Yonkie's stepdad, the cop.
That seemed to be the official title - Shmuli and Yonkie's stepdad, the cop.
That was fine with him.
He spoke to the boy about sports, about cars. Yossie was shy and Decker had a rough time establishing rapport. After ten minutes of discussing the Mets, whether or not the Mets could beat the Dodgers should both teams be in the playoffs, the kid seemed to settle down. Decker eased into questions about Noam, taking guidance from his last conversation with the Greitzman boys. When he asked about dirty magazines, he thought Yossie would faint.
Decker said, 'Did Noam ever show
you dirty magazines, Yossie?'
The kid's nod was barely perceptible.
'How many times did he show you the magazine?'
'Coupleoftimes.'
Mumble, mumble. We don't want to talk about this at all.
Decker repeated, 'A couple of times. You ever buy one from him, Yossie?'
The boy buried his head in his hands. Decker put an arm around his shoulder.
'Yossie, I'm not going to tell your parents anything. I promise you. They ask you what we talked about, you say a little about Noam, and a lot about sports. Tell
them Shmuli and Yonkie's stepdad - the cop - is a big Dodger fan, OK?'
Yossie nodded.
'I'm not here to get you into trouble,' Decker said. 'I'm here to find Noam before he gets hurt. Please. Now, did you ever buy a dirty magazine off him?'
The boy shook his head.
'Then where did you get it?' Decker asked.
'Fromaguy.'
Hallelujah! Calmly, Decker asked, 'Which guy?'
'Just this guy,' Yossie said.
'Does this guy have a name?'
'Hersh,' Yossie said.
'Hersh,' Decker repeated. 'And does Hersh have a last name?'
•I don't know it.'
'Hersh,' Decker said. 'You know where Hersh lives?'
Yossie shook his head.
'No,' Decker said. 'Then where did you meet Hersh?'
Yossie mumbled something. Decker asked him to repeat what he said.
'I met him at this liquor store,' Yossie said. 'I thought I was going with Noam to buy a bottle of wine for his family. Then Noam introduces me to this Hersh guy. I didn't even want the magazine, but I didn't want to look like a dip and not buy it. So I bought it. Cost me ten bucks, too.' He looked down. 'Boy, was I a jerk.'
'We all get talked into doing things,' Decker said. 'Every single one of us, so don't feel bad about it. What you should feel good about is helping me out. It's a mitzvah. You're doing great. Can you tell me which liquor store?'
'I don't remember the name of it,' Yossie said. 'It
was in the black section of Crown Heights on the other side of Empire.'
'Hersh is from Crown Heights?' 'I don't know.'
'Hersh is a Jewish name,' Decker said. 'So am I correct is assuming Hersh is Jewish and not black?'
'Definitely,' Yossie said. 'He might have even once been frum - religious - because he seemed to know Yiddish. But if he was frum at one time, he isn't now. I was really angry at Noam for taking me there. I have relatives in Crown Heights. If they had seen me in that store with this Hersh guy, it would have been all over for me.'
'What does Hersh look like?' Decker said.
'He's about twenty... twenty-one.' The boy scrunched his eyes. 'He's dark, not real tall.'
'Let's start at the beginning,' Decker said. 'Stand up.'
The boy obeyed.
'OK,' Decker stood straight. 'How far would he come up to me?'
Yossie thought for a moment, then put his hand at Decker's shoulder.
About five eight or nine.
•OK,' Decker said. 'Clean-shaven?'
Yossie nodded.
'Good,' Decker said. 'By dark, you mean dark eyes, dark skin, dark hair—'
'Dark hair and eyes,' Yossie said. 'He's not dark like an Iranian or something. He's just like normal white.'
'Fantastic. OK, he's clean-shaven with dark hair and eyes. Does he have any acne, any moles, any warts...'
'I don't think so.'
'Let's try something,' Decker said. 'I use this method all the time with my witnesses. You mind being my star witness in this case?'
'Sure,' Yossie said. 'I mean, sure, I don't mind.'
Decker held back a smile. 'Close your eyes, Yossie, and picture Hersh's face.' He waited a moment. 'Describe the forehead to me - see a lot of it, a little of it...'
'High forehead.'
"The eyebrows?'
The boy knitted his eyes in concentration.
'Don't force it, Yossie,' Decker said. 'Just relax. Let it flow. If you don't remember, that's OK.'
'I don't remember his eyebrows,' Yossie said.
'Fine,' Decker answered. 'His nose—'
'Big.'
'Long, wide, bulbous—'
'Long and big.'
'Good. The cheeks.'
'Just cheeks.'
'Fleshy? Lean? Rosy-colored?'
'Just plain cheeks.'
'OK,' Decker said. 'Doing great, kid. Let's go to the mouth.'
'Big mouth,' Yossie said. 'And a weird smile. Lopsided.'
'Lopsided? In what way?'
'I don't know... Just kinda lopsided and weird.'
'Can you show me?' Decker asked.
Yossie curled the right side of his mouth upward, leaving the other side flat. 'And he'd like... scrunch up his eyes when he smiled, too.' He grimaced again, then started to laugh. Decker laughed too, happy that
the boy was loosening up. Relaxed people have better memories.
'That's great, Yossie,' Decker said. 'Now tell me this. When Hersh talked, was his mouth also crooked?'
'Uh-uh,' Yossie said. 'Only when he smiled.' He looked up at Decker. 'It was a real weird smile, made me nervous. That's why I bought the magazine.'
'Did he threaten you?'
'No.'
'OK,' Decker said. 'Back to the smile. Could you see his teeth when he grinned?'
'On the one side. They were just teeth.'
'Big? Yellow? Did you notice any dental work?'
Yossie shook his head.
'OK,' Decker said. 'A weird, crooked smile. Let's go on to his chin. Long? Square? Dimpled?'
'Just a chin.'
•That's fine. Now I want you to move your eyes down from his face to the body? Can you picture his body?'
Yossie nodded, his eyes still closed.
'Good,' Decker said. 'Take a nice long look at the body. When you're done looking, tell me if he's fat or thin or regular.'
'Thinnish.'
'OK. How 'bout his shoulders? Are they wide—'
'He is thin but he has muscles.' Yossie opened his eyes. 'I remember now. He was wearing this sleeveless shirt - a muscle shirt I think they're called - and I could see his arms. He looked like he'd been lifting barbells.'
'Terrific,' Decker said. 'Just terrific. Can you tell me anything else about his body? Was it hairy?'
Yossie shook his head.
'Wasn't hairy or you don't know?'
•I don't know.'
Decker said, 'Did he walk with a limp?'
•No.'
'His voice. Was it high or low?'
•Medium.'
'All right. Did he talk with a stutter or a lisp?'
'No.'
'Did he have a Brooklyn accent?'
'What do you mean?'
'Let me rephrase that,' Decker said. 'Did he sound like he was a native Brooklyn boy? Did he sound like he was from around here?'
'Yeah, I think so. He didn't talk like a Californian or a Southerner.'
Decker recapped to Yossie the man he had just described. 'Does that sound right?'
'Yeah,' Yossiesaid. 'That's about it.'
'You did fine,' Decker said. 'Now this Hersh guy was maybe from Crown Heights?'
•Maybe.'
•But you think he was a local?'
'I guess so.'
'You met him at a liquor store in Crown Heights?'
•Yes.'
'In the black area of Crown Heights?'
'Yeah. It was right past Empire.' He thought a moment. 'You know, it might have been on Empire Boulevard.'
•Hey, that's great,' Decker said. 'You've got a terrific memory, Yossie. You can be my witness anytime.'