Decker nodded back.

Lieber was a much bigger man than Decker had expected—wide across the chest and face, with a large, drooping nose and thick, prominent lips. Once he might have had a solid square jaw, but his jowls covered the bone structure. His eyes were hooded and multicolored, changing tint depending on the light and atmosphere— anatomical mood rings.

Chaim stood up, his eyes having darkened into black orbs of fury. Decker wondered what he had done to make this man hate him so much. It wasn’t as if Decker had hurt his daughter. On the contrary, he had actually found a link to the missing girl. He felt terrible about keeping the secret, and for one brief all-too-human moment, he thought about relating the wonderful news to Chaim. But if it got back to Donatti and if she was harmed because of his indiscretion, then who would be at fault?

No, it was better to be overcautious.

“I thought that you had left,” Chaim told him.

“Tonight,” Jonathan said.

“Why tonight? What business do you have here?”

Decker threw his head back. “Rina wanted to stay for the funeral. And I had things to wrap up, Rabbi Lieber. You don’t involve people in your affairs and then suddenly leave without saying thanks.”

“Are you admonishing me because I didn’t thank you?”

“Chaim,” Jonathan began.

But Decker held up his palm to silence him. “No, Rabbi Lieber, not at all. I meant the cops who had helped me. I’d like to remain on good terms with them.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about New York’s finest because they certainly haven’t helped much, have they?”

“I’m so sorry, sir. This must be agonizing for you.”

“Terribly agonizing.”

But he sounded more angry than despairing. His eyes narrowed, his body thrust toward Decker in an antagonistic pose. “You don’t know anything, Lieutenant. Go home.”

“Chaim!” a raspy voice chided. “Es pass nisht. Vus toost-du? Setz’ich avek!”

“But Papa—”

“Nisht gebst mir del Papa. Setz’ich avek non! Nisht dray mir a kop.”

Reluctantly, Chaim returned to his pillow. Mr. Lieber motioned Decker to a chair. “Sit down, Lieutenant. Do you want some tea?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Lieber. Do you want some tea?”

“No, I don’t want anything right now.” He looked at his son-inlaw. “Jonathan, get the man some tea.”

“Really, I’m—” Decker stopped himself. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

“While you’re up, get some for Papa,” Raisie chimed in.

“I don’t want any—”

“Papa, you must drink!”

“I’ll have only if you’ll have,” Decker proposed.

The old man nodded.

Jonathan sighed heavily and went to the kitchen for tea.

The old man leaned forward. “You will forgive Chaim’s manners. He is under terrible, terrible stress.”

“Of course, Mr. Lieber. I’m sure my presence has added to it. I just wanted to pay my respects to you. Then I’ll go.”

“He expects miracles. For that, he must pray to the Abishter.”

“‘It is better to take refuge in Hashem than to rely on man,’” Decker quoted from the Hallel service.