“No big deal. I was so nervous about you, I left my beeper in the car.”

“You want to go back for it?”

“Nah, I’ll just call in. See if Marge has come up with anything.”

He slipped his hands into his pocket, pulled out a handful of silver. The phone booths were at the back of the terminal. After getting through to Central Dispatch, he asked to be put through to Marge. A moment later, he heard her voice on the line.

“Finally,” Marge said. “Where have you been?”

Decker said, “I’m at the airport. I don’t have my beeper.”

“That’s obvious,” Marge said. “An urgent call came through for you about ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago. A Frieda Levine from New York. She was so frazzled when the operator couldn’t get hold of you, she didn’t leave her number. I’ve tried Manhattan information, she isn’t listed.”

“She lives in Brooklyn,” Decker said, “I’ll call her. Thanks.” He cut the line and called out to Rina. “You have Frieda Levine’s phone number?”

“No,” she said. “But they’re listed. Her husband’s name is Alter Levine, Brooklyn’s area code is seven-one-eight.”

Decker slammed the door shut and popped another quarter into the phone slot. After getting the number from information, he pulled out the phone card and gave the operator the Brooklyn exchange. Frieda picked it up on the first ring.

“It’s Sergeant Decker, Mrs. Levine.” He paused a second, realizing how cold that sounded, and softened his tone of voice. “What’s up?”

“I heard from him,” Frieda said. She was breathless. “Someone was with him…I could hear another voice. Noam didn’t speak more than a minute. He was worried the line was tapped. He sounded…” She had to pause to find her voice. “He sounded hysterical, in terrible trouble. Is he, Sergeant?”

“Call me Akiva,” Decker said. “Yes, I think Noam’s in trouble. But first things first. I want to know exactly what was said during the conversation. I’m going to ask you a lot of questions, so just try and relax and we’ll take it from the beginning.”

“I can do better,” Frieda said. “I set up a phone machine like you told us to do after he called Miriam. I have it on tape. I’ve played it back and it recorded. I’ve just got to rewind…”

Decker told her to take her time, thinking: Hallelujah! Someone heeded his advice. He said, “I’m going to pull out my notebook.”

“Okay,” Frieda said. “All right. I’ll turn it on. If you can’t hear, shout ‘Louder.’”

“Gotcha,” Decker said. He stuck his finger in his free ear and listened. He heard the click of the machine, realizing it had started recording in midsentence. Frieda had probably turned it on as soon as she heard Noam’s voice. The woman was on top of it.