Shimon said, 'He forgot the handcuffs.'
Decker laughed.
The day was cool, but the sun was out. Wedges of bright light shone upon the rows of townhouses, turning the red brick into metallic copper. They had waited a good hour after services were over, wanting to be sure most people had settled down for the big holiday afternoon meal. At three o'clock, they were the only ones on the street, their shoes echoing against the blinding white sidewalk.
Decker stuck his hands in his pockets and said, 'Your kids are great.'
Shimon tried to stifle a smile, but couldn't. 'Thanks. I like them.'
'The boys don't seem to be close to their cousin.'
'To Noam?' Shimon said. 'No, they're not. They get along well with Ezra's other boys and my second son and Ezra's oldest learn together. But Noam? He's a strange boy.'
'In what way?' Decker asked.
Shimon threw up his hands. 'It's terrible I should be telling you this right before Yom Kippur, but maybe it's important.'
•Tell me.'
'He's a sneak,' Shimon said. 'My wife doesn't like having him over because he skulks around the house, rummages through drawers. It seems harmless enough, but most children - relatives or not - just don't behave that way.'
'Did he ever steal from you?' Decker asked.
Shimon turned red.
'What did he steal?' Decker inquired.
'Nothing big,' Shimon explained. 'Nothing valuable.' He collected his thoughts. 'My daughter Shuli was going through a kind of rebellious stage. She'd just turned fourteen. You have a teenage daughter, you know how they can be.'
'Moody,' Decker said.
'Very moody,' Shimon said. 'Very cranky. Easily bored. Not a lot of energy. My wife tells me it's normal. So...' He shrugged. 'Anyway, I made a deal with Shuli. She - of all my children - seems the most preoccupied by the craziness of the outside world. She likes
makeup, she likes clothes, she thinks she's a movie star... I don't know. Anyway, I told her if she did more housework and got along better with her mother and brothers and sisters, I'd buy her People magazine for a year. To you, this may sound stupid—'
'I understand, Shimon.'
'The people around here just don't read that sort of thing—'
'I understand,' Decker repeated.
'Anyway, it worked,' Shimon said. 'Shuli is like a different child and doesn't seem to be harmed by the exposure. I'm happy, she's happy.
'Well, about six months ago, my wife went in to clean Shuli's room and caught Noam there. The boy, according to her, scampered out like a little mouse. My wife didn't think too much of it - she was annoyed - but that was typical behavior for Noam. When Shuli came home later in the day, she was all up in arms, mad at me, burst into tears. "What? What?" I asked her. She was upset because it was People magazine day and we forgot to buy her the precious magazine. My wife insisted she had purchased the magazine, but suddenly she remembered that Noam had stuffed something in his jacket when she walked in. We figured he must have stolen the magazine.'
Decker waited for more.
'That's the whole story,' Shimon said.
'And that's the only thing he has taken from you as far as you know.'
'As far as we know, yes, and that was awhile ago.' Shimon paused. 'You know, I almost suggested to Ezra that he buy Noam the magazine. But Ezra's a little more strict than I am. And, I'm ashamed to admit, I didn't
want Ezra to know that I buy the magazine for Shuli. Around here, we pay way too much attention to what others think.'
Decker patted him on the back. 'Don't we all, Shim.'
'Really?' Shimon shrugged. 'I've lived here all my life, Akiva. Every day I carpool with men I grew up with. We go over the bridge together, I go to work, then we go home together. I have a silver business. I sell wholesale to major retailers. Most of my work is selling over the phone. I rarely see my buyers face-to-face after I've made my initial contacts. I don't have a good idea what others do, what others think.'
'And that doesn't bother you?' Decker asked.
'Not when I see what kind of world they've created for themselves - girls pregnant and on drugs at ten years old. Young boys murdering each other with the crazy gangs - they even murder their teachers.* He shook his head. 'I don't want any part of that world.'
Decker didn't answer.
'Of course,' Shimon said, 'I'm sure all of the world isn't like that.'
'You're talking to a cop,' Decker said. 'I don't see a very accurate picture of the world, either.'
'And that's why you became religious, nuV Shimon said.
Decker gave him a shrug.
Shimon smiled. 'Maybe Rina had a little to do with it?'
'A little,' Decker said.
Shimon pointed to a small brick townhouse. The front porch was filled with toys and enclosed by storm glass. 'That's our first stop. You said you wanted to speak with Ephraim and Moshe Greitzman. I know the father very weU.I'U do the talking.'
•Great.'
Shimon opened the porch door and knocked on a locked screen. The front door was wide open, pouring out heat and loud conversation. The little girl who came to the threshold was five or six, had a round face and ketchup stains on her chin and on her new dress. Her hair was braided tightly, which made her cheeks look even chubbier.
'Malkie, is your abba home?' Shimon asked her.
The little girl shouted the word 'Abba.' A man around forty unlocked the screen and stepped outside. He had a thick middle and a thick heavy beard.
'Shim,' he said and shook his hand.
'Danny," Shimon said. 'This is Rina Lazarus's - uh - Rina's newchassan, Akiva.'
'Shana tova umitukah. Mazel tov.' Danny stuck out his hand. 'We met yesterday. You were here with Yonasan.'
Decker nodded.
'So what?' Danny asked Shimon. 'Anything?'
Shimon shook his head.
'Ach,'Danny said.'A rotten thing. Tell Ezra we prayed for him today.'
'I will,' Shimon said. 'Danny... Akiva is a policeman - a detective. He's been wonderful to us, to the family.'
There was an awkward pause.
Shimon said, 'He wants to talk to Ephraim and Moshe about this thing.'
Danny's eyes went from Shimon's to Decker's and back to Shimon's.
'He needs to talk to them in private,' Shimon said.
'My sons had nothing to do with this terrible thing,' Danny said.
Shimon threw his arm around Danny. 'Of course not. We're just going through the motions. I'm doing it for Ezra. Please, the boy is my nephew. Ezra and Breina are worried sick. My mother and father are not well. Let him do whatever he needs to do.'
Danny exhaled, looked confused. 'Why in private?'
'Just standard procedure,' Decker said. "That's the way I'm used to talking to kids.'
'What are you going to ask them?' Danny said.
Decker said, 'It'll probably take only a few minutes.'
Shimon said, 'Danny, we have four other houses to go to and as the time passes, things look worse. Please.'
Again, Danny exhaled. 'Where do you want to talk to them?'
'Their rooms are fine,' Decker said. 'Or I'll just walk around the block with them if you want it out in the open—'
'No, no, no,' Danny said. 'Go upstairs in the boys' room. I don't want the neighbors to see you interrogating my sons.'
'Believe me,' Decker said, 'it's not an interrogation. Very simple. In and out.'
'Help us out,' Shimon said.
'Of course.' Danny stepped aside, let them cross the threshold.
The household was full of guests, full of kids. Danny took his wife aside and told her what they wanted. She didn't seem pleased by the request, but Danny had made up his mind and that was that. He told his wife to lead Decker and the boys upstairs. As Decker was climbing the steps, he noticed how easily Shimon had integrated himself into the table conversation. Smiling, talking - he seemed to know everyone. The man was so at
home, Decker half expected
him to take his shoes off.
Outgoing. So unlike himself. Would he have ended up this friendly had he lived here all his life?
Probably not, because he, like Jonathan, wouldn't have lasted in this insular environment. He was a big man - demanded open spaces, unspoiled land. The first thing he'd done after his divorce was buy ranch land out in Tujunga.
They reached the top of the stairs. Danny's wife was petite and blond, her head stopping at the middle of Decker's bicep. The boys were small as well, but had some of their father's bulk. They looked alike, both with sandy-colored hair, fair cheeks, full lips, and cleft chins. But one had light eyes, the other, irises as dark as coal. They reminded Decker of Chip and Dale.
The wife said, 'Can I wait outside the doorway?'
'It's better if you wait downstairs,' Decker said. He put on his professional smile. 'Your guests might need you.'
'Yes, you're right,' the woman said. She hurried downstairs.
. Decker gently ushered the boys inside their room and closed the door behind him.
In this community, pinups of bikinied-models and rock stars were taboo. But the locals hadn't banned professional sports. The walls were plastered with posters of the Mets, the Yankees, the Knicks, and the Giants. Larger-than-life figures leaping into the air for impossible catches, soaring through the sky to make a slam dunk, ramming through piles of meat to make a touchdown. The room was small and, with the posters as an audience, the floor space seemed like a tiny stage. The beds abutted one another, the desk was a pyramid of
papers. A computer had been stuffed into a closet, resting on cinder blocks. Clothes were all over the place. A square grated window was open, airing out a stale, unwashed smell.
Decker motioned the boys to sit on their beds. He leaned against the wall, sandwiched between Don Mattingly and Steve Sax. He pointed to Sax and said, 'He was one of ours.'
The boys smiled.
'We were sorry to see him go,' Decker said.
The light-eyed boy said, 'We were sorry to let the Dodgers go.'
Decker smiled. 'You guys didn't deserve the Dodgers. You treated them like bums.'
'From their stats,' the dark-eyed boy said, 'they played like bums.'
'They've earned their keep in L.A.,' Decker said.
The dark-eyed boy said, 'That's for sure.'
It came out: Datsfohshua.
Decker said, 'Which one's Moshe?'
The light-eyed boy raised his hand. He looked to be around fourteen. The dark-eyed one, Ephraim, was maybe a year or two younger. Decker said, 'You know who I am?'
'Sure,' Moshe said. 'You're Stimuli and Yonkie's stepdad. The cop.'
Decker smiled.
'Mrs. Lazarus's husband,' Ephraim said. He looked at Decker. 'I guess she isn't Mrs. Lazarus anymore.'
Decker laughed.
'She's very nice,' Moshe said.
'Thank you.'
'Yes, she's very nice,' Ephraim agreed.
There was a pregnant pause, the obvious not being said.
She's very pretty.
He wondered how many boys had a crush on her?
Moshe said, 'Stimuli's in my shiur.'
Sammy was twelve; how could he be in this kid's class? Then Decker remembered that the shiurim - lessons in Jewish studies - weren't based on age but on ability.
Deckers said, 'Is Noam in your shiur too?'
The boys laughed nervously. Moshe said, 'Noam sits with us, but in learning he's behind Yonkie.'
'He's real dumb,' Ephraim said.
'He's not dumb,' Moshe said.
'He's dumb,' Ephraim repeated.
'He's not dumb,' Moshe insisted. 'He's just a cut-up. When he had to learn his bar mitzvah parashd, he put it off until the last minute. Then he memorized the whole thing in three months. He pulled it off and did Musaf, too. And he did a decent job. He's not dumb.'
'Well, he acts dumb,' Ephraim said.
'That is true,' Moshe said. He turned to Decker and said, 'You haven't found him, huh?'
Decker shook his head. 'You two good friends?'
'Good friends?' Moshe said. 'A long time ago. Now we just kinda know each other. The older we get, the less I have to do with him. Noam keeps to himself, doesn't talk too much. Our interests are different. As you might have noticed, I like sports, I like cars, I like...'
Moshe blushed.
'You like girls,' Decker filled in the blank.
'We don't see the girls too much,' Moshe said. 'Our school hours are long and we're in separate buildings.'
'Noam like sports and cars?' Decker said.
Moshe shook his head. 'Couldn't care less.'
'How about computers?'
'Noam likes computers?' Moshe said. 'That's news tome.'
'I mean computer games.'
'Oh.' Moshe thought a moment. 'He had this little pocket game - Octopus. Used to play that all the time. I find those things boring but a lot of kids are into it. Mostly the younger ones.'
'Do you know if Noam ever hangs around the arcades?' Decker asked. 'Maybe he has a friend with a Nintendo game system?'
Moshe shook his head. 'We don't have a TV so we don't have any game systems. No one around here does.'
'Does he have any other pocket games besides Octopus?'
'Not that I know of.'
'How about girls?' Decker said. 'Does Noam ever talk about girls?'
Moshe's blush returned to his cheeks. 'Yeah, he likes girls.'
•Talks about them?'
'Yeah.'
'A lot?'
Moshe said, 'Depends on what you think a lot is?'
Decker said, 'When he talks about the girls, is he crude, graphic in how he likes them?'
'Yeah,' Moshe said. 'That kinda bothers me. We weren't brought up to talk like that.'
Refreshing, Decker thought.
'I think Noam's a pervert,' Ephraim said.
'He's not a pervert,' Moshe said.
'He's a pervert,' Ephraim said. He turned to Decker.
'He hangs around the younger kids a lot.'
Decker raised his eyebrows. Moshe came to Noam's rescue.
'It's not like you think. It's all out in the open. He just plays with them.'
'How young are we talking about?' Decker asked.
'First of all,' Moshe said. 'He doesn't hang around them. Sometimes he plays tag or mouse-in-the-middle with the younger kids at shul. They're maybe six or seven. He's real nice to them. They like him, too. So he'll make a good camp counselor. What's wrong with that?'
'Do you think it's strange?' Decker said.
Moshe was uncomfortable. 'Yeah, it's a little weird.'
Ephraimsaid, 'It's very weird.'
'Shut up, Ephraim,' Moshe said.
Decker said, 'Does Noam have a girlfriend? Maybe a secret girlfriend?'
Moshe shook his head. 'Not that I know of. Most of the girls I know think he's a little off. My sisters won't go near him.'
'Noam ever brag about things he's done with girls?' Decker asked. 'Maybe things he's done with girls that weren't even Jewish?'
Moshe paused a long time. Decker knew the teenager was in conflict. He said, 'Moshe, if he has a non-Jewish girlfriend, maybe that's where he's hiding out.'
'I don't think he actually has a non-Jewish girlfriend,' Moshe said. 'Or any girlfriend. He used to talk a lot about the Italian girls, about things they'd do... I don't know where he learned all this stuff from. Noam likes to play hotshot. I think all his hotshot talk is made up on the spot.'
'Wishful thinking?'
'Exactly.'
'You ever notice him hanging around the Italian boys?' Decker asked.
'No,' Moshe said. 'But I don't hang around them, so I don't really know if he was or wasn't.'
'Did Noam ever try to sell you drugs?'
Moshe shook his head.
'Did he ever sneak drugs or alcohol inside school? Try to get some of his friends interested in getting stoned.'
'Not that I know of,' Moshe said. 'Once in a while
, he'd smoke in the bathroom. Lot of kids do it. Smoking isn't allowed in school, but a lot of the rabbis smoke right in front of us.' He suddenly reddened, started to speak but changed his mind.
Faye Kellerman - Decker 04 - Day of Atonement Page 13