She looked out of place—a different genetic strain, with light eyes, poker-straight auburn hair, and a peaches-and-cream complexion. Her expression was soft, the eyes seemed gentle. The body language of the photo showed the boys leaning toward her, not the father…whatever that meant. Kids usually felt closer to their mother.

He walked over to the wet bar and looked in the drawers. Inside were bottle openers, ice tongs and pick, glass stirrers, plastic toothpicks, and an ice pick. Lo and behold, it wasn’t covered in blood.

Decker tapped his pencil against his notebook. On a superficial level, everything seemed fine. He closed his notebook and went upstairs.

“Four bedrooms,” Marge said. “Parents’ room, guest room, and each of the boys had his own room.” She brushed her toe against the soft maroon carpeting of an upstairs circular landing. “The boys shared a bathroom; the master bath is a marble palace.” She threw up her hands. “I didn’t grid-search the place, but I looked carefully. Nothing jumped out at me. How about you?”

“Nothing slapped me across the face, either,” Decker said. “What about the attic?”

“Unfinished. Nothing up there except for furnace equipment. Did you take a peek under the house?”

“Just crawl space except for a small wine cellar which looked untouched.”

“No secret torture chamber?”

“Not that I could find.” Decker perused his notes. “The garage had all three cars in it. I also looked around the yard, in the pool house, in the flower bed. Nothing.”

“I did find a few pieces of luggage,” Marge said. “They don’t have a perfectly matched set. There could be a piece missing and I wouldn’t know. Clothes seem complete, but again—take a pair of pants out, who’d know the difference?”

“They’re going to make this hard on us,” Decker said. “I’ve got a couple of questions. This guy’s supposed to be a big diamond dealer, right?”

“Right,” Marge said. “You’re wondering if there is a safe. None that I could find. I looked in closets, behind pictures, underneath area rugs. I take it you came up dry as well. Otherwise you wouldn’t be asking the question.”

“What a pro,” Decker said. “No, I came up empty.”

“Nothing in the cellar?”

“Unless it’s behind all those collectible bottles. I didn’t pull them all out.”

“And I didn’t look behind the furnace in the attic,” Marge reported. “But I did check out the toilet tank—where druggies hide their stash. Nothing. Did you check the freezer?”

“Yep. There was food and ice—the H2O kind.”

“Why don’t we ask Sis about the safe? See what she has to say. What’s the next question, Rabbi?”