“I keep trying to tell myself that. That I shouldn’t be working. But then…” He slammed his fist into his open palm. “Marge, it could have been Hannah! If Cindy hadn’t been with her, who knows? I owe it to that little baby girl to find her. I owe it to her and to her mother.”

“Pete, everyone’s busting their chops with this one. The case is top priority. Hospital’s sealed. We’re going to interview anyone who passed through these hallways, anyone on duty, and anyone just hanging around. Cameras will be down for the morning news—we’re gonna get the word out about this little girl in a big way. You owe something to Rina, too.”

“You know what Rina will say, Marge.”

“Find the kid.”

“Find the kid,” Decker repeated.

Marge gave up. “So how do you want to divide this?”

“I’ll investigate Marie Bellson. Someone just brought up her work file from Personnel. After I’m done with Darlene, I’ll go through that. I’ll also call back Hollander and find out if the warrant came through. When it does, I’m planning to visit Bellson’s place personally.”

“Fine. After I’m done dueling with the Rodriguez boys, I’ll go over the interviews the uniforms are doing on the staff. Find out who saw what. See if the blues missed anything. How many do we have assigned to do the job?”

“Twelve—two per floor. Mike said he’d help you just as soon as he’s done obtaining the warrant.”

“That’s good.”

“Go over the accounts with a magnifying glass, Marge.”

“I’m glad you told me that, Pete. Otherwise I would have been slipshod.”

Decker frowned. “How ’bout cutting me a little slack, partner?”

“Sorry.”

“I was talking as much to myself as I was to you.”

“I know.” Marge patted his shoulder—the one without the old bullet wound. “Just relax and concentrate on this Bellson lady.”

There was a moment of silence. Decker said, “Do I make a lot of condescending remarks like that?”

“Occasionally.”

“You know I don’t mean anything by it. I think you’re top-notch.”

“I know, Pete. It’s okay.” Marge rubbed her eyes and looked up. “Cindy’s counsel’s here.”

Decker waved his ex–father-in-law over. Jack Cohen was in his midsixties but still walked and talked and dressed like a young man. He had a sprightly voice, bright blue eyes, and a quick comeback for every remark. He could be fun to be around because his aggression was tempered by wit. Not so his daughter. “Counselor Cohen,” Decker said. “My partner, and Cindy’s interviewer, Detective Dunn.”

“We’ve met before, but it’s a pleasure.” Cohen shook hands with Marge. “Where’s my girl?”

“She’s with Rina,” Decker said. “I’ll call her now that you’re here. Thanks for coming down, Jack. It’s probably not necessary—”