“No,” Miriam said. “No, it isn’t your pleasure. It isn’t the way anyone should spend their honeymoon. Yesterday, Shimon said what you were doing was the highest form of tzedakah and all of us agreed with him. Real charity is not just giving money. It’s not just giving an hour here or there for an organization. Real tzedakah is giving…is giving of yourself.” She started to cry again. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s okay—”

“It’s not okay.”

“Really, it is.”

“Please thank Rina, too,” she sobbed.

“I will.”

“Shana tova tikatevu ve teychatemu.”

Decker thought about repeating the blessing back to her, but decided his mind wasn’t functioning properly enough to get the Hebrew right. “Same to you and your family.”

Family, he thought. The woman was his half sister. He’d never had a sister. Of course, he really didn’t have one now. He wished her well, hung up the phone, and gave Rina a synopsis of what had happened as he dressed.

“I’ll use the telephone in the dining room,” he said. “You go back to sleep.”

“I’m wide awake,” she said. “Use the telephone here.”

“Nah, I’ll probably be going out shortly.” Decker pulled up his trousers, slipped on a white shirt. “When it’s quiet you’ll get sleepy.”

“I wish I could help you.”

“You could help me by getting some sleep.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Rina stared at him a moment. He appeared asymmetrical. “Your shirt’s cockeyed, Peter.”

Decker looked down. His shirttail was two inches longer on the right. He’d missed a button.

“I’ll fix you up,” Rina said. She gave him a kiss on the neck.

“I love it when you dress me.” Decker paused, then said, “I love it better when you undress me.”

Smiling, Rina finished buttoning his shirt, then gave him a light pat on his rear. “You be careful out there.”

It had been ages since anyone had said that to him. Ten, even fifteen years. Detective work wasn’t dangerous. Still, he was touched that she had said it. It was nice to matter to someone.

So far the night had buried six bodies, four of the homicides the outcome of gang warfare in Southeast Division. There had also been a fatal stabbing at a bar in Hollenbeck—all parties accounted for—and an irate wife had shot her cheating husband in bed with his lover in the Devonshire district. Which meant that either Noam’s victim had yet to be found or Noam’s aveyrah, his grievous sin—was not murder.

The sin could have been assault or robbery. For such a religious boy, it could even have been anal intercourse with the man he supposedly picked up. Supposedly. Without hearing him directly, without talking to him, it was hard for Decker to assess the accuracy of the call.