“I don’t know.” Marge thought for a moment. “Let’s go back to your blackmail thing, Pete. Say Yalom was blackmailing Milligan. Say he had something really big on her. If Milligan was going to hire out to pop Yalom, who better to do the job than Gold? He didn’t like his partner—”

“Gold has an alibi.”

Marge said, “Gold can also bribe. The man had also been a sniper in the Israeli army. We both know that a sniper’s just a sanctioned murderer anyway.”

“That’s a shitty thing to say,” Decker blurted out. “What the hell do you know about wartime rules anyway?”

The car grew cold and quiet.

Marge stumbled until she found some words. “Look, if I hit a nerve, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to solve a case, okay?”

Decker ran his hands over his face. “Sorry.” He clapped his hands. “You’re right. We’re working on a case here. Go on.”

“Where was I?” Marge asked softly. “I lost my train of thought.”

Decker said, “You were thinking that Milligan hired Gold to blow Yalom away.”

“When you state it like that, it sounds ridiculous. I was just talking theoretically.”

“Theory’s all we have,” Decker said quietly.

Marge drove a minute, then said, “You want some coffee, Pete?”

“I’d love some.”

“Shall we live dangerously and try out for the corner coffee vendor?”

“I’m game. Just don’t get me anything designer.”

“I know, I know. Black coffee—”

“Plain black coffee. Nothing with a lemon peel in it.”

Marge let out a small laugh, pulled over, and parked the car. She got out and a minute later brought back two steaming paper cups to the Plymouth. They drank in silence. Decker broke it.

“Sorry I jumped on you, Margie.”

“No prob.” She looked down, then back at Decker. “You want to talk to me about it, Rabbi?”

“Talk to you about what?”

“About what pushed your button.”

“No, not particularly.”

Marge broke into laughter and so did Decker. He said, “I’m fucked up. End of story. Back to the case, Margie. Assume that Milligan had been dealing with Yalom because he was blackmailing her.”

“A logical leap, but okay. Assume blackmail. What could Yalom have had on Milligan?”

No one spoke.

“The hard part, huh?” Marge smiled. “If he was blackmailing her, the woman would have to have a past. How about she was a hooker?”

Decker shook his head.

Marge pursed her lips. “Yeah, she’s too pretty and too smart. We need something classier, huh? She was a call girl—an expensive call girl.”

Again, Decker shook his head.

Marge said, “Okay, forget hooker. How about…she has a record.”

“Seems to me a company like VerHauten would scrutinize its top employees. A rap sheet would be an easy thing to check out.”

“Not if she was a juvenile at the time and the records had been sealed.”