Outside the station were a black Ford LTD unmarked and three bright-blue-and-white cruisers perpendicularly parked on the sidewalk. Decker hopped up three concrete stairs, opened a rust-scarred door, and stepped into a sally port. The entrance was done in faded mustard tiles held together by black grout. On the floor were blocks of lackluster green marble surrounding a dim square of teal-blue marble. The ceiling plaster was buckling, ready to shower gypsum. Against the walls were a pay phone, a beverage-vending machine, a candy-bar machine, and a uniformed patrol officer. The cop was dark and short, had a thick black mustache, and needed a shave. His name tag read Melino. He wore a light-blue shirt, navy tie, navy pants, and rubber-soled black oxfords. He sized Decker up and didn’t like what he saw.

Decker was used to that. His height made many men wary. Then he realized that Melino was staring at the bulge under his jacket. Decker said, “I’m a cop from L.A. I’m packing and I’ve got a license to carry in the state of New York.” He raised his arms in the air. “Check it out.”

The patrol officer strolled over, frisked him, and pulled the Beretta from Decker’s waistband. He stared at it, turned it over, then stared at it again.

He said, “Nice. Standard issue?”

Decker lowered his arms. “One of our options.”

“Nice,” repeated Melino.

“You want to check my carry license?” Decker asked.

The cop shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Decker pulled it out of his wallet. Melino gave it a quick glance, then returned his eyes to the Beretta. “You don’t have a clip.”

“I know that,” Decker said.

“This for show or what?” the cop asked.

“No, it’s my piece,” Decker said. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea to come in here with a loaded semi-automatic.”

Melino handed the gun back to Decker. “What can I do you for?”

“I need to file a missing-persons report,” Decker said. “A local boy—fourteen.”

“Local? One of the Hasids?” the cop said.

Decker smiled. The cop pronounced Chasid with a soft h, just like he did.

“Yeah, kid’s a black-hatter.”

“Is he a mental problem?” Melino said.

“Not that I know of.”

“How long’s he been gone?”

“About fifteen hours.”

“And you’re just filing a report now?” the cop asked. “Usually we get kids missing, we get a hysterical parent in here in two to three hours.”

“You get a lot of missing kids in this area?”