“How’s he related to you,” Decker asked. “I mean, are your mothers sisters or what?”

“You tell me you’re a cop and a frum yid,” Hersh said. “You tell me you’re looking for Hershie Schaltz. Now you’re asking me personal questions. Vos macht?”

Decker wasn’t sure what he meant, but the fish vendor’s tone of voice seemed to indicate he wanted to know what was going on. Decker spent the next ten minutes rehashing the last six days, explaining Hersh Schaltz’s involvement in the affair. Afterward, there was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“I have no idea where Hershie is,” Big Hersh said. “Like I said, I haven’t seen him in years.”

“You don’t have any family connections in Los Angeles?” Decker asked.

“I have second cousins living in Beverly Woods,” Big Hersh said.

“You mean Beverly Hills?” Decker said.

“No, Beverly Woods.”

He meant Beverlywood—the gilded ghetto of L.A. Jewry. Beverlywood housed a lot of L.A.’s Orthodox professionals, many with parents who’d been camp survivors. Would Hersh try to make contact with distant relatives? It was worth looking into.

“Can you give me their names and addresses?” Decker said.

Another pause. Then Big Hersh said, “You sound honest. And my wife does remember talking to you. But I still feel funny about giving out my cousins’ names over the phone.”

Decker told him to hold on a moment and called Rina. He covered the receiver with his palm and said, “I’ve got Hersh Berger, the fish vendor from Crown Heights, on the line. He’s first cousins with Hersh Schaltz. I’m trying to squeeze information from him, but he’s reluctant to talk to me. Talk to him. Convince him I’m legitimate.”

Rina stared at him, thinking: So now you want my help? Instead, she took the receiver and spoke to Big Hersh in Yiddish. They talked for five minutes, mentioning a lot of names Decker had never heard before. Then she handed him back the receiver and nodded.

Decker said, “Mr. Berger?”

“Okay,” Big Hersh said. “I know friends of your wife’s family. As a matter of fact, she knows my second cousins in Beverly Woods. But I’ll give you their address anyway. You got a pencil?”

Decker said he had a pencil. He wrote down the names, address, and phone number.

Big Hersh said, “Anything else?”

“Can you give me a little background on your cousin?” Decker said. “What’s he like? I don’t have a good feel for him.”

Big Hersh laughed. “You’re not alone.”

“Hersh was always a cipher?”

“A meshugener, you mean? Yes, he was always strange.”

“Can you tell me a little bit about him?”

“You’ve got some time?”

Decker said he had all the time in the world.