“She didn’t say,” Willy said. “And believe me, she don’t check the trash. The woman cleans with thick gloves. But I thought I’d pass that bit of info on to you. Just to show you that I’m cooperative.”

“If you wanted to be Mr. Joe Citizen, you should have called the cops the moment you saw those two walk through the door.”

“On what basis?” Willy said. “Yeah, maybe the kid looked a little scared, maybe he even looked stoned. So what? How many scared or stoned kids you see in this town, Sergeant? How many are you gonna stop and ask what’s wrong?”

“I don’t see a lot of kids checking into a dump like this,” Decker said.

“That’s ’cause you don’t work here,” Willy said, suddenly assertive. “Know what I see? I see exactly what you see, Sergeant. The leftovers.”

Embassy Girls was nothing more than a name. All its calls were routed through a tiny little shack discreetly labeled Ace Messenger Service. The service, sandwiched between a dry cleaner and a printer that advertised FAX MACHINES AVAILABLE, was located on Aviation Boulevard, a half mile south of the airport. Looking at the place, Rina would never have suspected it was a front for outcall services although all the blinds were drawn tight. She sat in the unmarked, listening to the cars on the 405 freeway whizzing by, waiting for Peter to finish up.

She wished she had brought Ginger for company.

Ten minutes later, Peter appeared with a smile on his face. If Rina hadn’t known better, she would have been jealous. He opened the driver’s door and slid in.

“Did you find the massage girl?” Rina asked.

“I found her.” He turned the ignition key and the motor charged up. “Caught her just before she was about to go out.”

“Was she well-endowed?” Rina asked.

“Clint didn’t lie,” Decker said.

“One of your more enjoyable interrogations?”

“Rina, this isn’t my idea of a good time. I’d gladly trade looking at a pair of large breasts for a little peace and quiet.”

Rina patted his hand. “What did she say?”

“Well, she identified Hersh immediately,” Decker said. “Noam she was less sure of. Apparently, he was in the bathroom the whole time. Out of choice. She said Hersh offered to pay for her to…well, ‘to do the kid’ was the way she put it. But Noam refused.”

“Boruch Hashem for that!” Rina shook her head. “Peter, he must be so scared.”

“I’m sure he is,” Decker said. “According to the girl, Hersh—or rather Hank—loves his knives. And he loves fish.”

“What do you mean?”

Decker said, “Hersh had the hooker bring up a whole monkfish. Then he butterflied it while she performed oral sex.”

Rina buried her head in her hands. “That’s disgusting!”

“It’s out of the ordinary,” Decker said.

“It’s perverted,” Rina said.