“Two Arabs. One named Ibri, the other named Gamal.” Rina said, “Milligan told them that if their idea of heroism was blowing up a school bus, they were working for the wrong person.”

Elhiani’s eyes got wide. “Where do I find this lady?”

“She had a meeting at the American Colonial Inn about two hours ago,” Rina said. “Maybe she’s staying there. I also have license plate numbers for you in my purse. Maybe that will tell you something.”

“That’s why I need Gil Yalom. I was hoping Gil could tell me something.”

Elhiani bit his lip. “But he has been put out. Maybe tomorrow he can talk to both of us.” He picked up the phone and spoke rapid Hebrew. Decker looked to Rina for translation.

“He’s having an underling call up the American Colonial Inn.”

“That is right, g’veret. Your Hebrew is good.” Elhiani sat back in his chair. “I still think this bomb is strange. You don’t use bomb to kill pacific people.”

“Pacific people?” Decker asked.

Elhiani spoke to Rina. She said, “He meant specific people.”

Decker continued his argument. But even as he spoke, he recognized the validity of Elhiani’s point. Want someone dead, take him out directly. Bombing would have been a clumsy way to kill. The phone buzzed. Elhiani picked it up, then slammed it down.

“Milligan’s not there.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Decker said.

“I don’t know if she was staying there, Peter,” Rina said. “Only that she had a meeting there. For all I know, she’s staying with her pal Donald in Hebron.”

“Yeah, I forgot about him.”

“What?” Elhiani said. “Who is Donald?”

Rina said, “The man for whom Ibri and Gamal were working. I think he lives in Hebron.”

A hard pounding at the door echoed through the small chamber. Elhiani frowned, then got up from his seat. He opened the door, revealing an ashen-faced policewoman who spoke using her white-knuckled hands for emphasis. Elhiani punched his fist in his hands. Rina covered her face and muttered an Oh God.

“What?” Decker said. “Another building exploded?”

“Not a building.” Rina had tears in her eyes. “An explosion at Kikar Zion—an open square in the heart of Jerusalem’s shopping district. Someone put a bomb in a garbage can. Two dead, fifteen wounded.”

Elhiani turned to them. “You two can leave your number with me. Now I have other business.”

Assessing his mood, Decker decided he was tired, famished, and pissed-off in that order. It had taken them two hours to retrieve Rina’s purse, another hour to get back to their car. By then night had fallen over the silent city. Two bombings within an hour of one another made people retreat to the safety of their homes. The city was eerie with calm. The curbs once filled with parked cars were empty. Only the Subaru remained alone, sitting like a punished child behind the police ropes.