There was a pause over the line. Elhiani said, “If, by some neis, you are right and Bursa blows up and people die, it is terrible, terrible tragedy that I did not prevent. If you are right and I investigate, there is no tragedy and I am big, big hero. If I investigate and we find nothing, they think I’m crazy for listening to crazy American sar-kee-ant. You give me big headache.”

Decker said, “I’m giving myself a big headache.”

Elhiani said, “You call me Ezra. I call you Peter.”

Decker knew this was a turning point. “Call me Akiva.”

“B’seder, Akiva.” Elhiani sighed. “I call Northern District Headquarters for you. Ask them what they want to do. I tell them you wait downstairs in lobby. Leave it up to them. It’s their territory.”

“Fine.”

“I tell them to meet you at your hotel. Some advice to you, Akiva. Take your wife with you. She talks better than you. And she looks better, too.”

In a frantic rush, they dressed and went downstairs into the brightly lit hotel lobby. The front desk was deserted, the couches and chairs empty. In the background was the hum of some kind of generator. The outside picture windows framed twinkling lights set into a backdrop of blackness. Everything was quiet but tense, like an animal crouching for its prey.

Two police cars came fifteen minutes later—uniformed officers who checked their papers and identification. Since Elhiani still retained their passports, the officers from Tel Aviv had to make do with the leavings, confiscating their driver’s licenses and Decker’s papers as well as his police badge. Stripped of ID, Rina felt naked and faceless, then wondered why. Perhaps it was the realization that she and Peter were actually viewed as suspects. She glanced at her husband. His eyes said nothing, his expression was all work. Too wrapped up in the case to care about indignities.

The cops escorted them into the backseat of the subcompact police car, Decker contorting his body to get inside. Night blanketed the city and the asphalt roads were very dark. But the faint visibility didn’t stop the police from racing through neighborhoods, the automobile jumping hurdles whenever it encountered a rut or a bump. Tiny vehicles had tiny shocks.

They reached the Bursa just before five. The boulevard was empty, but the curbway was lined with blue flashing lights. The cop parked the car and opened the back door. Decker got out first, then helped Rina to her feet. He stretched his legs, heard yelping dogs in the background.