A director couldn’t have staged the scene with more drama. The screaming fire trucks, the wailing ambulances, the racing squads of police cars, frightened boys hugging themselves, hysterical neighbors hugging each other, rabbis praying in the street, and lots of standers-by offering opinions without foundation. Then the newspeople came. Lucky for Decker he didn’t speak Hebrew. He was relieved when Elhiani motioned Rina, Gil Yalom, and him over to the police car.

It was a tiny thing—a white compact with a blue flashing light—an igloo on wheels. He could barely squeeze inside. He opted for the backseat to get to Gil. But it was Rina who got information, such as it was.

At police headquarters, Gil was taken away immediately. Decker and Rina were seated in a tiny windowless cell barely big enough to accommodate the few folding chairs it had. There was a one-way mirror on the wall.

Elhiani came in, lit up, and blew out a plume of smoke that hung in the static air.

Decker said, “We’ve got to get Gil Yalom to open up. Find out where his brother is staying. If someone tried to blow him up, someone’s going to do the same for Dov.”

Elhiani puffed his cigarette and licked his lips. “The boy is not talking to anyone right now.”

Decker reminded himself to speak slowly. “People are going to die unless we find out where his brother is hiding.”

“Your anger will not serve anything, adoni.”

Decker took a deep breath. “I’m not angry, I’m anxious. We evacuated just minutes before the building blew up.”

“Nothing blew up,” Elhiani answered evenly. “Yes, windows popped, and some sepharim burned. A pity, but the fire people put the flames out like that.” He snapped his fingers. “The building still stands and hardly a stone is cracked. Good construction.”

Decker glared at Elhiani.

“Not that you didn’t do a tovah and a mitzvah,” Elhiani said. “Maybe we give you key to the city and take your picture for newspaper.”

Decker forced himself to unclench his jaw. “I’m not interested in accolades, but I do want to find Dov Yalom. I need to talk to Gil.”

“The boy is with doctors. He is in shock and is given sleepy medicines. Your talk with him will have to wait.”

Decker was about to explode, then held back, remembering the ride over. The boy had been stunned with fright. What was the use of pounding him with questions he couldn’t process?

“I go through all your official papers,” Elhiani said. “Everything is in order. Why don’t you contact police when you first got here?”

Decker said, “I just arrived here yesterday.”

Elhiani raised his brow. “Do you always make such excitement in twenty-four hours?”

“It’s a long story.”

Elhiani sucked in smoky poison and took out a pad and a pen. “Tell me your long story, Sar-kee-ant.”