No one spoke.

“Well, obviously, they had to have been unusual for this to happen.” Schnitman wiped his eyes. “I’m going to go wash.”

“I’ll come with you,” Decker said.

“Anybody know where the facilities are?” Novack asked.

“In the back.”

Schnitman and Decker got up to go to the sink. As expected, Decker did tower over him, and Schnitman seemed to shrink even further, noticing the size difference. They ritually washed their hands, then said the blessing while eating warm pita bread. In silence, they went back to the table and sat back down. Novack excused himself.

Taking pita from a basket, Schnitman dipped a piece in the hummus and snagged a thick glob of the paste. “I had no idea that he had real problems, Lieutenant. He just wasn’t…that open. More than that he seemed to be doing okay. I just didn’t know!”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“This is terrible.”

“Yes, it is,” Decker said. “Did Ephraim ever talk about his niece?”

“Shayndie? Yes, all the time.” Schnitman went in for second helpings, then thirds. His appetite seemed to pick up. He spooned carrots, olives, and eggplant salad onto his plate. “She was a good point in his life, someone to be a role model to. He even brought her to a meeting once because he wanted her to see where drugs would lead her. I think it had a profound effect on her—some of the stories that we told her. She was very quiet, but you could tell that she was taking it all in.”

Novack sat down. “What’d I miss?”

“Ephraim brought Shayndie to an Emek Refa’im meeting once,” Decker said.

“He did?” Novack took a couple of pieces of sausage. “Wow, this is good! Hot!” He fanned his mouth. “What was the girl’s reaction at the meeting?”

“I just told the lieutenant here.” More carrots onto the plate, followed by several spoons of potatoes. “She was quiet but affected by it all.”

“Did she talk to any of the members?” Decker asked.

“Not that I can recall. Like I said, she was quiet.”

“Maybe one of the women?” Decker tried again.

“I don’t remember.”

“Can you ask?” Novack said.

“Sure, of course.” Schnitman broke off another piece of pita and smothered it with eggplant salad. “Ephraim…” He chewed his food. “The way he explained it… he was taking her under his wing because nobody else in the family wanted to address her problems.” He popped an olive into his mouth. “My people…I love them. But there is a certain tunnel vision that the Haredi have. To some of them—the very, very narrow-minded—listening to a woman sing— kol esha—is as bad as shooting smack because both are sins. Of course, we know that you can’t compare the two acts either physically or morally, but unless you’re familiar with that environment, you can’t possibly understand it.”

Decker said, “My wife covers her hair.”

Schnitman looked surprised. “Oh. But you’re not Haredi, though.”

“No, and neither is my wife. But I know what you’re talking about.”