Rina didn’t answer. They drove the next few minutes in heavy silence. Finally, she said, “I’m very religious, Peter. I accept lots of laws on faith. Even laws that don’t make a lot of sense to me. Even so, I am a product of the twentieth century. The way Jewish divorce has been used by some men against their wives is a crime. Resentful husbands basically blackmail the women. They use gets as weapons—to obtain better property settlements or better visitation rights…to get lower alimony and child-support payments. It’s terrible. Some of the rabbis are very sympathetic to the women’s plights.” She paused. “But others are not.”

“Is anyone doing anything about it?”

“Yes, of course. Some of the rabbis are putting clauses in the official Jewish marriage contract—the ketubah. They add clauses that state that if the husband refuses to give his wife a Jewish divorce after the civil divorce goes through, he must pay her enormous amounts of money daily until he relents. Unfortunately, the rabbis weren’t doing things like that when Honey got married.”

Decker said, “I don’t think money would have been a motivating factor for someone as far gone as Gershon Klein anyway.”

“So maybe the rabbis did what they thought they could do. Maybe they used what halachic means they had available.”

“It’s murder, Rina!”

“You’re judging by American jurisprudence standards.”

“Damn right, I am. They live in the U.S.A., not in Israel…do they do that in Israel?”

Rina shook her head. “They just put them in jail.”

“But they don’t starve them…beat them?”

“No, they can’t do that legally.”

“So even here, it’s murder.”

Rina didn’t speak.

Decker said, “You don’t consider it murder?”

“I consider the whole thing tragic.”

Rina navigated Decker down Jaffa Road—an old main thoroughfare cluttered with people and traffic. Decker wanted to gawk, to take in the parade, but there was work to be done. Sightseeing was for another time and occasion. By the grime collected on the buildings, Decker could tell he was in the old area of town. It wasn’t pretty but it wasn’t ugly either. Part of the reason was that all the buildings were made from the same colored limestone. The material not only lent a uniformity to the city, but was durable as well.

He and Rina weren’t talking much. Their discussion about Honey and divorce had sobered them. His mind was ablaze with images: a crazy man dunked in a bathtub, never fully understanding the gravity of his crime. A wife hopelessly trapped in a loveless, mindless marriage. Children caught in the middle…

Rina said, “I think it’s right off Machane Yehudah—the Jewish Marketplace. Turn down the next road and let me see where we’re at.”

Decker’s attention snapped to the present. “Where are we going?”