“Jonathan found him somebody to talk to, God bless the dear rabbi.” Decker paused. There were aspects of Jonathan that reminded him of his own baby brother. Jonathan and Randy were almost the same age, both of them sensitive beneath a facade of misanthropism. Decker wondered if they’d get along, then, realizing the stupidity of the fantasy, he turned his attention back to Rina. “The counselor Jonathan found isn’t frum, but he’s Jewish and works only a few blocks from Greenspan’s house. Eli did show up for his first appointment. Beyond that, I don’t know.”

Rina said, “You know, as naïve as it sounds, I always thought we were immune to worldly problems. Silly, huh?”

“No community is immune,” Decker said. “But I’ll tell you this, darlin’. Most of the kids I met in Boro Park seem very well adjusted. Well-mannered, respectful of their parents, nice to their friends. The religious schools don’t have truancy problems, big drug or alcohol problems. Almost all the families are intact. Hey, if you don’t mind living in a big insulated box, it’s probably a great place to bring up your kids. It’s just that when there is a problem, you people don’t want to admit it.”

“Here you go again with ‘you people.’”

Decker smiled. “Okay, we don’t want to admit it.”

“Much better,” Rina said.

Decker said, “Seems to me that Hersh was that kind of a problem child.”

“The family must have had its own problems,” Rina said. “First to divorce. Then for the father to marry a shiksa. He couldn’t have been that committed a Jew.”

“You’re being judgmental.”

“When it comes to intermarriage, I’m judgmental.”

“There were a lot of people who were judgmental when you started dating me.”

Rina bristled. “You were willing to convert, Peter. Besides, you were Jewish.”

“But you didn’t know that at first.”

“Are you going to start a fight?” Rina asked.

“Not intentionally,” Decker said. “And who knows? Maybe Christine McClellan converted.”

Rina said, “I imagine a swift detective such as yourself could find that out.”

“Not so easy a task, Holmes,” Decker said. “And unless we find Hersh, we never will know. Seems Dad and new wife have met their maker. Apparently they were chemists, working for the Darrick-Bothhell lab in Connecticut, and died in a freak accident about a year ago. Their laboratory blew up.”

Rina stared at him. “That gives me shivers.”

Decker said, “Their field of expertise was stabilizing volatile cleaning solutions. Accidents can happen. I’ve gone through all the reports. There were stacks of them. No indication of arson or foul play.”

“But?”

“How do you know there’s a but?”

“Your tone of voice,” Rina said. “Am I right?”

“Yep,” Decker admitted. “During the day the lab was very well populated. When it blew, Dad and Christine were working alone at night.”

“Did the father have a life-insurance policy?”