“Why don’t you inform the police tomorrow. Not today. Tomorrow. After forty-eight hours, I believe there’s even a procedure for tracking missing persons. There’s been no word from Trotsky?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Of course not. I never thought there would be. Between us, I have my own suspicions. You must promise not to breathe a word of this. Is that clear?”

I said nothing.

“Hava’s behind the whole mess. In cahoots with that Trotsky. I won’t spell it out any further. It’s her way of getting back at me.”

“Yolek,” I said. “Believe me, when it comes to human emotions I don’t understand a thing, but that theory strikes me as implausible.”

“A genius you never were, Srulik, but still the very soul of decency. Do me the favor of forgetting what I just said. All of it. Would you like some tea? A little brandy? No?”

I thanked him but urged him once again to go to the hospital as the doctor had advised.

Craftily, like a degenerate old philanderer, he suddenly winked at me with a lewd smile. “On Sunday, if Yoni still hasn’t turned up, I’m going to go get him. The doctor be damned! Listen to me, Srulik. None of what I’m going to tell you is to leave these four walls. I’m flying there on Sunday. I’ve already booked a seat. And I’ll bring him back. They’re not going to get away with this. And don’t try to talk me out of it.”

“But I don’t understand,” I said. “Where are you flying on Sunday?”

“Not a genius is an understatement. All right, I’m going to America. By myself. Without telling Hava or anyone else.”

“But Yolek, you can’t be serious.”

“But I can. And I am. And my health is not a topic for discussion. So don’t argue. It’s pointless. I wish to be left alone now, Srulik, and remember to keep your mouth shut.”