“Hold on,” Decker yelled. “I’ll come down.”

He stood from a crouched position, his knees cracking as he rose. He and the Tin Man—they needed oil. He popped off his gloves, slipped his notebook inside his jacket, and gave a final glance to the Yaloms’ bedroom. Someone had tossed the place with serious intent. Nothing had been overlooked or cast aside. This kind of damage took time—several hours at least. Decker wondered if the someone—or someones—had found what he/they were looking for.

Marge was waiting for him in the entry, her tapping foot sending out echoes against the marble floor. She said, “See what happens when the maid doesn’t show?”

Decker gave her a warm smile. She was upset, trying to hide her feelings with macho humor. “You all right?”

“Me? I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“Just being polite. Frankly, I don’t give a shit how you feel.”

Marge burst into cathartic laughter. “How long have you been here, big guy?”

“Over two hours.”

“And the upstairs is as bad as the living room?”

“The whole house is trashed. No wonder Orit went nuts when she saw this.”

“How’s she doing?” Marge asked.

Decker ran his hand over his face. “Lousy. Tell you the truth, I’ve had better days myself.”

“Any news with your houseguests?”

“I just called back West LA. The case was given to a D-three named Sturgis. He’s working with me at my request.”

“As if you don’t have enough to do?”

“Yeah, that probably wasn’t a smart move. But I keep seeing those children, thinking about their dead father in Manhattan.” Decker threw up his hands. “You know me. I’m a sucker for kids.”

Marge pushed wisps of blond hair out of her eyes. “At least Davidson’ll give you time to look for the Kleins. He thinks there’s a connection—the big Jewish conspiracy. They control the media, you know.”

Decker was silent.

“It was a joke, Pete.”

“I’m just wondering if there isn’t a connection. It does seem like a mother coincidence.” He looked at Marge. “So what big-ticket item do you have that you didn’t want to discuss over the lines.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Yep. What’s up?”

Marge held a safe-deposit-box key with a gloved hand. “Kann found it inside of Arik, in a place where the sun don’t shine. The key could be what the ransacking was all about.”

“It was stuck up his ass?”

“You’ve got it.”

“Kann checked out the remaining orifices?”

“Yes, he did. Nothing.”

“He check out Dalia as well?”