The water began to boil. Rina got up. “So you’ve washed your hands of the case?”

“No, I’m still supervising. But I’m not doing any interviewing…no direct contact with any of the parties involved.”

“So who’s questioning him? Marge?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.” Rina set a steaming mug on the table. “Is he even talking?”

“No, actually, he isn’t.” Decker stared at floating tea and mint leaves. “Has he always been closemouthed?”

Rina thought a moment. The tears came back. She wiped them away. “Bram’s always been circumspect.”

“He talk to you at all while he was caring for Yitzchak?”

“Of course.”

“About what?”

Rina shrugged. “Sometimes, we talked about religion. About how Hashem gives true believers trials to test their faith. It’s a tenet of both religions. For us Jews, it’s Abraham and the Akeda.”

“The sacrifice of Isaac.”

“Right. Apparently to Catholics, Mary is the ultimate figure of emmunah.” She frowned. “That’s weird. I just used a Hebrew word for a figure in Catholicism. Anyway, she’s their symbol of faith. Mostly, Bram offered me lots of nondenominational words of comfort.”

Decker said, “Did he ever talk about his family?”

“Sometimes.” Rina nodded.

“Anything illuminating?”

“Meaning?”

“Did he ever tell you anything about his personal relationships with his parents, brothers, and sisters…friends, male or female?”

“Occasionally.” Rina got up. “You want some more tea?”

“I’d love some more tea.”

Nervously, Rina refilled the mug with steaming water. “News made mention of some gay angle. Because Dr. Decameron was gay.”

Decker nodded.

Rina sighed. “Did you find evidence of that?”

“We’re still assessing information and evidence. I’m not evading your question, honey, I’m answering it truthfully.”

Rina looked upward. “What a mess!”

Decker tried to think of a nifty response, drawing blanks instead. He stood up and said, “It’s late and I still have a couple of business calls to make. Think I can chance a couple of good nights to the boys without having my head blown off?”

“How brave do you feel?”

He kissed his wife’s cheek. “Not too brave. But a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

Wiping the counter, Rina thought about possible excuses for running out at ten-thirty in the evening: a friend needed help…Rebbetzin Schulman wanted her opinion on some papers she had written…she suddenly wanted to visit her parents.

She discarded them one by one, all of them downright lame. Peter would laugh in her face.

Despite what Peter would do, she knew she was going to see Bram. That was given. But it would simply have to wait until tomorrow.

She heard Peter saying good night to the boys, heard his feet against the wooden floor of the hallway. A door was shut with a click.

Silence.

Rina glanced at the kitchen phone. The business line came alive.

He was dialing out from the bedroom.