“As far as we know, yes, and that was awhile ago.” Shimon paused. “You know, I almost suggested to Ezra that he buy Noam the magazine. But Ezra’s a little more strict than I am. And, I’m ashamed to admit it, I didn’t want Ezra to know that I buy the magazine for Shuli. Around here, we pay way too much attention to what others think.”

Decker patted him on the back. “Don’t we all, Shim.”

“Really?” Shimon shrugged. “I’ve lived here all my life, Akiva. Every day I carpool with men I grew up with. We go over the bridge together, I go to work, then we go home together. I have a silver business. I sell wholesale to major retailers. Most of my work is selling over the phone. I rarely see my buyers face-to-face after I’ve made my initial contacts. I don’t have a good idea what others do, what others think.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Decker asked.

“Not when I see what kind of world they’ve created for themselves—girls pregnant and on drugs at ten years old. Young boys murdering each other with the crazy gangs—they even murder their teachers.” He shook his head. “I don’t want any part of that world.”

Decker didn’t answer.

“Of course,” Shimon said, “I’m sure all of the world isn’t like that.”

“You’re talking to a cop,” Decker said. “I don’t see a very accurate picture of the world, either.”

“And that’s why you became religious, nu?” Shimon said.

Decker gave him a shrug.

Shimon smiled. “Maybe Rina had a little to do with it?”

“A little,” Decker said.

Shimon pointed to a small brick townhouse. The front porch was filled with toys and enclosed by storm glass. “That’s our first stop. You said you wanted to speak with Ephraim and Moshe Greitzman. I know the father very well. I’ll do the talking.”

“Great.”

Shimon opened the porch door and knocked on a locked screen. The front door was wide open, pouring out heat and loud conversation. The little girl who came to the threshold was five or six, had a round face and ketchup stains on her chin and on her new dress. Her hair was braided tightly, which made her cheeks look even chubbier.

“Malkie, is your abba home?” Shimon asked her.

The little girl shouted the word “Abba.” A man around forty unlocked the screen and stepped outside. He had a thick middle and a thick heavy beard.

“Shim,” he said and shook his hand.

“Danny,” Shimon said. “This is Rina Lazarus’s—uh—Rina’s new chassan, Akiva.”

“Shana tova umitukah. Mazel tov.” Danny stuck out his hand. “We met yesterday. You were here with Yonasan.”

Decker nodded.

“So what?” Danny asked Shimon. “Anything?”

Shimon shook his head.

“Ach,” Danny said. “A rotten thing. Tell Ezra we prayed for him today.”