“He said he was in big, big trouble. Worse trouble than I could imagine. He did something terrible—a big aveyrah, one that even Yom Kippur couldn’t take care of. I asked him what the aveyrah was and he said that he did something terrible to…to some queer man he met—”

“Hold it,” Decker said. “Noam said the words ‘queer man’?”

“Uh, I believe so.”

“Or did he just use the word ‘queer’?” Decker said.

Miriam was hesitant. “Maybe he just said ‘queer.’”

“As in homosexual?” Decker said.

“Maybe that was the meaning,” Miriam said.

Decker said, “What were Noam’s exact words, Miriam?”

“Uh, ‘I did a terrible aveyrah to a queer I met in a bar.’”

“In a bar?”

“Yes,” Miriam said. “In a bar. I thought that was very odd, too. I asked him what did he do, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

“Did Noam say, ‘I can’t tell you,’ or did he just ignore the question?”

“He just ignored the question. All he said was that he did something terrible to this queer man he picked up in a bar downtown—”

“Downtown?” Decker asked. “Noam used the word ‘downtown’?”

“Yes,” Miriam said. “Yes, he did. He said he picked up a queer man in a bar downtown. Does that help you?”

“I don’t know,” Decker said.

Downtown Los Angeles was not a place to find gay bars. Downtown San Francisco was. Maybe the two of them hopped a plane north. Or it could be Noam was in West Hollywood—the primary bastion of the L.A. gay community. It had some tall buildings. Maybe it looked like downtown to Noam.

Miriam said, “He kept saying he did a terrible thing. My mind was racing so fast. What would Noam be doing with a…homosexual and how did he get into a bar? Then, he said he had this gun, but he didn’t use it. But he still did a terrible aveyrah. Again, I asked him what did he do? But he didn’t answer me.”

“He said he had a gun?”

“Yes,” Miriam said. “Then he said he really didn’t use it. I don’t know what he meant. I don’t know if he tried to rob this poor man or…or force him to do something…or…”

Or even worse, Decker thought. He was writing as he spoke. “Go on.”