“I’m not assigned a partner, per se,” Decker said. “But if I do team up, it’s usually with a woman named Marge Dunn. Man, I sure wish she were here now. We bounce a lot of ideas off each other. You need someone like that.”

“You work with a woman?” Shimon said.

“Sure.”

“And Rina doesn’t mind?”

Decker smiled. “No, Rina doesn’t mind.”

They walked a few moments in silence.

“Your partner—or sort of partner,” Shimon said. “She’s young?”

“Marge is thirty-one. She’s five ten, one hundred sixty pounds.”

“A big woman.”

“A big woman,” Decker said. “You wouldn’t want to confront her when she was mad. She and Rina seem to get along.”

“They’re friends?”

“Well, not friends exactly. They just know each other through me.”

Shimon said, “My wife chose my secretary. She’s sixty years old, ninety pounds, and wears too much perfume. Not lovely to look at, but very efficient.”

“I’ll take efficiency over looks any day of the week,” Decker said.

“Marge is ugly?”

“No, Marge isn’t ugly at all. She’s actually quite attractive if you like big Nordic women.”

“She’s blond?”

“Blond with dark eyes,” Decker said. “She’s got great eyes; they inspire trust. Kids love her; our rape survivors confide in her. That’s the kind of partner you want. Someone you can depend on, someone who’s good.”

“That makes sense,” Shimon said.

They took a few more steps without speaking.

Shimon said, “She’s single, this Marge?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not distracted by her?”

“Distracted by Marge?” Decker laughed. “She keeps my mind on work, not off of it. She’s a great cop.”

“You like her,” Shimon said.

“She’s a good friend,” Decker said.

Shimon put his hands in his coat pockets and shrugged.

To him, Decker realized, the idea of women friends was as alien as pork. In this community, working closely with a woman could only lead to trouble. But his half brother happened to be a nice guy and was trying hard not to be judgmental. Decker felt that was worth some points.

They stopped walking and Shimon pointed to another small brick townhouse.

“Here’s where the Weinsteins live,” he said. “Tell me, Akiva, am I as good a partner as your great cop and friend, Marge?”

“Shimon, my man, you’re the only one in town who could pull off this assignment. And that’s no lie.”

“Eem yirtzah Hashem, all my talents won’t go to waste.” Shimon turned serious. “Do you think we’ll find him, Akiva?”

“I don’t know,” Decker answered. “But we’ll do whatever we can.”

“Ultimately, it’s up to God,” Shimon said.

That was true. Decker thought. But just in case the Old Man was overbooked at this time of year, he was going to do his damnedest to take the case off His hands.