“We know a family disappeared. Yet the house looks undisturbed to the eye. No signs of sudden packing, valuables in place.”

“So let’s assume the family didn’t take off on their own. Assume murder.”

“What would be the motivation for a murder?” Decker asked. “No apparent robbery had taken place. By Gold’s own account, no stones were missing from inventory.”

“That’s why I like my spy theory. Someone wanted them out of the way for reasons other than money.”

Decker’s head began to pound. “Money could still be the motive.”

“What do you mean?”

“Marge, who would benefit from the parents missing?”

“The boys.”

“Right. And their passports are missing. Who else would benefit?”

“Possibly Orit. And maybe the partner, Gold, too.”

“Also consider this,” Decker said. “We really don’t know if the stones are missing. Could be Gold took the diamonds or Orit took the jewels. They could be telling us that nothing’s missing, but in reality, they could have cashed out the goods.”

Marge was silent. Then she said, “What we really need is an old-fashioned body.”

“It would help.” Decker rubbed his eyes with his bicep. “I’m going over to that shopping center. Where Dov made the phone call to Sharona. At least it puts him alive as of forty-eight hours ago.”

“I still like my spy thing,” Marge said.

Decker said, “So do I.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I’d love to get my hands on Gold’s passport. See if it’s as funny-looking as Yalom’s. I wonder if we’re getting in over our heads.” Decker smiled. “Maybe I’ve read too many novels about Mossad.” Again, he waited a beat. “Then again, Mossad agents did kill the wrong guy in Norway about a decade ago. Even spies make mistakes.”

Marge said, “Hey, if you think this guy is into some kind of secret shit, I’m outta here. Cattle prods on the genitals is not my idea of a good time.”

Decker said, “Let’s not get carried away. But I am keeping an open mind. Though he downplays himself, Gold’s no dummy. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

“Know what I do think?” Marge said.

“What?”

“I think it’s time to get some lunch.”

Decker’s house was eerily quiet except for the electronic chatter of a game-show host.

Rina never watched game shows.

A moment later, Ginger pranced out and jumped on Decker’s chest, spraying a cloud of red fur and dander into his eyes.

“What’s going on, girl?” Decker asked the Irish setter. “Who’s watching TV?”

The dog licked Decker’s face. Decker shouted out “Hello?” but there was no answer.

“Someone leave the TV on, girl?”