Gold’s eyes went to his artwork. “Yes, I’ve been to Africa.” He blew out a plume of smoke. “But I don’t know why Arik would go there now. Bastard doesn’t collect art. Wouldn’t know beauty if it bit him in the ass.”

Marge and Decker swapped raised eyebrows.

Decker said, “What did you mean when you said that Arik would go to Africa now? Had Arik gone in the past?”

“Many times.”

“For what?”

“To squander money.”

Decker looked at Marge. She picked up the ball.

“How did he squander money?” she asked.

“He invested in crazy schemes. Arik got scrambled brains. He thought he could be the next VerHauten. He took his wife’s money and flushed it down the toilet. I think he got it out of his system. But maybe not, the crazy bastard.”

Gold sat back in his couch.

“What? You think I kill him because I call him a bastard. He is a bastard. Bastard to me, bastard to his kids, bastard to his wife, spending her money like it’s his.”

Decker noticed his eyes were dilated. Could be from the booze, could be he was lying. “Why would Arik have gone to Russia? Does it have anything to do with the diamond mines there?”

Gold stared at Decker. “Maybe he goes to the diamond mines and buys stones. If he did, he don’t tell me.”

“Has Arik been an honest partner to you, Mr. Gold?” Marge asked.

“Honest when it counts?”

“What does that mean?” Marge asked.

“It means I was never cheated.”

Decker waited for more. When nothing came, he said, “Why do you think he didn’t tell you about his travels to Africa? Do you think he was investing in schemes again?”

“Not with business money. I keep watch on that.” Gold flicked his wrist and checked the time. “I call Orit. Maybe she knows when the funeral is.” He looked up. “Or maybe you know?”

“We haven’t released the bodies yet, Mr. Gold.”

“Then I wait until she calls me. It’s terrible what happened, terrible for Dalia. She really was a lovely woman.” He took a deep puff of his cigarette and blew out a cloud of poison. Decker squirmed in the smoke. Going on four years and the lust for nicotine had yet to leave his bloodstream.

“You liked Dalia,” he said.

Gold said, “I know her many, many years back in Israel. Many, many, many…” He took another drag off his cigarette. Marge brushed away the smoke, but Decker inhaled deeply.

“You were jealous when she married Arik?” he asked.

“No, I was not jealous.” Gold’s lip quivered. “What difference it make? She’s…”

Marge looked at the Israeli. His eyes were wet. She thought about Arik’s travels, which he apparently kept secret from his partner. Then she thought about Gold’s car parked outside the Yalom house. Just who was screwing whom.