Rina smiled. He looked like a puppy begging for table scraps. She pinched his cheeks. “Of course I’ll eat with you.” She slid her arm around his waist and led him inside, gently pushing him through the throng of women—all of them wishing him their best. They would have asked him more—Decker saw curiosity etched into their faces—but Rina was a skillful guide. She whisked him into their room upstairs, then helped him off with his jacket. She pointed to the folded-down bed and said, “Sit down and I’ll take off your shoes. And I’ll even rub your feet.”

Decker eyed her. “Are you doing this to keep me on this case?”

Rina said, “Are you assigning ulterior motives to my wifely behavior?”

“Your behavior isn’t wifely,” Decker said. “It’s…geisha-esque.”

“That’s not a word, Peter,” she said. “Would you like me to take off your pants?”

“Hell, yeah.”

Rina laughed. “No argument about that one.”

“In fact—”

“The boys will be home any second.”

“I’ll be quick and I’ll be quiet.”

Rina looked upset, regarded her watch.

Decker said, “I was just kidding, darlin’.”

“You don’t mind waiting until tonight?”

“Honey, it’s a necessity unless you’re into necrophilia.”

Rina smiled, then stared at her feet. Decker knew what questions were coming. Might as well preempt them, get it over with.

“The interviews went well,” he said. “If the kids take me up on my offer, we’re going to have to rent a bus.”

“What?”

“To show my appreciation for their cooperation I promised them all trips to Disneyland if they come out to California. And Pete Decker does not break his promises.”

“Did you find out anything substantial?”

“Nothing to make me do a handstand,” Decker said. “But I got a new lead. I’m going to follow it up tonight.”

“What kind of a lead?”

“A liquor store and the name of a kid—a twenty-year-old, rather. His name is Hersh.” Decker described him. “He sound familiar?”

Rina thought awhile, then shook her head.

Decker said, “He didn’t sound familiar to Shimon, either. The kid I interviewed said Hersh might be from Crown Heights. I’ll check out Empire Boulevard. If I don’t get anywhere, I’ll canvass Crown Heights tomorrow.”

“I thought you wanted out,” Rina said. “I had this whole elaborate speech prepared to defend your decision.”

Decker collected his thoughts. “I do want out. And if I could find an Orthodox investigator, I’d gladly bid the whole clan adieu. But I have a feeling religious PIs are hard to come by and I can’t send average PI Joe into Crown Heights. I may not be ready to be ordained, but at least I have inklings as to what makes these people tick. An ordinary PI ain’t gonna know zilch.”

Rina gave him an uh-huh.