“No,” Yossie said. “Not like good buddies. More like Hersh was a big shot and Noam kinda worshiped him like he was something hot. Frankly, I thought Hersh was a jerk, even jerkier than Noam.”

“Did you get the impression that Hersh and Noam had met more than once or twice?”

“Definitely.”

Decker clapped his hands. “You did a great job. If you knew how important your information was to me, you’d really feel good about yourself. We want to find Noam, Yossie, before he gets into big trouble. You may have helped him more than anyone else.”

The boy lowered his head, holding back a grin. Very slowly, he reached into a hidden cubbyhole in his closet-room and pulled out a magazine.

“Here.” He gave it to Decker. “I should have thrown it away a long time ago, but I was too nervous someone would see me throwing it out. Every time my mother comes in here, I get nervous that she’ll find it. Can you get rid of it for me?”

Decker flipped through the well-used rag. The kids sure knew the difference between Playboy and the real thing. He stuffed it in his jacket. “No problem.”

The kid let out a sigh of relief. “Boy, do I feel better. Thank you very much.”

“You’re very welcome,” Decker said.

“Is Noam in big trouble?” Yossie asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“He gets into trouble a lot. I just hope he’s not over his head. He’s kind of a jerk, but he isn’t evil or anything like that. I’d feel real bad if something happened to him.”

“I understand.” Decker stood and helped the teenager up. “You’re a good friend, Yossie. Thanks for the help.”

Yossie nodded gravely. Decker put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and extended the same offer he gave the Greitzman boys. Yossie’s spirits seemed to perk up immediately.

Good ole Disneyland—the ultimate kid picker-upper.

15

Another sundown, this one signifying the end of the Jewish New Year. Decker dropped off Shimon Levine, then headed for the Lazarus house, thinking how the first two days of his honeymoon had been spent in emotional upheaval.

Dusk was blanketing the neighborhood. A thick gray fog had settled upon the rooftops, obscuring chimneys and rain gutters as if the houses had been set in badly cropped photographs. Decker turned up his collar. Black-garbed shadows whooshed past him on their way to evening prayer, their shoes making clopping noises against the sidewalk. He took a deep breath, then exhaled, blowing out a stream of warm air. Just how far did he intend to take the case?