“Baruch atah Adonai Elohenu, Melach Haolam borei pre hagofen.”

Blessed art Thou, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has created the fruit of the vine.

The congregation responded with a resonant “Amen.”

The rabbi put down the wine cup and lifted a two-foot sculptured tower of silver. Its roof was peaked and topped by a gilt flag; gilt bells dangled from the edge of the eaves. Three of the tower’s sides were embossed with Hebrew letters, the fourth held a miniature door. Inside were spices—cloves, frankincense, allspice, whole chunks of cinnamon. In a loud voice, the rabbi made the blessing over the aromatics, opened the door, and deeply inhaled their sweet/tart perfume. He passed the tower to Decker who held it to the boys’ noses and his own, then returned it to the rabbi.

“Amen.”

The rabbi put down the spicebox and blessed God, the creator of light, by holding his fingernails close to the flame of the candle. He then recited the rest of the havdalah, the prayer marking the conclusion of Sabbath. Soon the new secular work week would start and God’s holy day of rest would officially be over.

Mellifluously, Schulman recited the last blessing and took a sip of wine. He poured the remaining wine into a silver dish, took the candle, and quenched the flame in it. The fire crackled and sparked until it was reduced to a stream of smoke.

“Baruch atah Adonai hamavdil beyn kodesh lechol.”

Blessed art Thou, Oh Lord, who hast made a distinction between sacred and profane.

10

The first snapshot was a white anus being penetrated by a black penis. Decker tossed it aside, but Hollander picked it up for a second look. He was a bald man with a fringe of brown hair, a large walrus mustache, and an overhang of belly. He was smiling this morning. He liked this assignment.

“Do you think this is a boy ass or a girl ass?” he asked Decker, puffing on his meerschaum. “From this angle, I can’t tell.”

Decker snatched the photo out of his hands and gave him a sour look.

“Mike,” he said, “we’re supposed to be looking at faces, not asses.” He held up several snapshots of Lindsey Bates. “This girl, Mike. We’re looking for this girl.”

The detective grunted unappreciatively and sucked in his gut.

“And put out the pipe,” Decker snarled. “This room is cramped enough without you smogging it up.”

Hollander killed the embers.

“What’s eating your ass, Rabbi? Have a bad weekend at the Holyland?”

“I had too good a weekend,” Decker complained. “I’m not ready to come back to this shit.”

“Pete, there are at least a dozen guys out there just waiting for this assignment.”

“And I’d be glad to give it to the drooling bastards, but the case is mine, Michael.”

“All I’m sayin’ is if this is gettin’ to you, you’ve got lots of backup.”