“You’re right.”

“Can I ask what it is?”

“Not yet.”

It was Donatti, of course. But Rina couldn’t say anything. She sipped coffee and picked up a copy of Agudath Yisroel’s Guide to Kashruth.

Decker put down the newspaper. “I’m not cutting you short. I’m just trying to be cautious.”

“Of course.”

He took her hand. “Look, darling, why don’t you and Hannah leave for Florida tonight—”

“No.”

“My mother would be thrilled. We both know she likes you better than she likes me. And she likes Hannah better than both of us.”

“Peter, I’m not leaving without you. We all leave tomorrow morning. One more day won’t hurt. As a matter of fact, why don’t you call up the station house and just take the whole week off. We can spend more time with your parents. We won’t have to rush things. Rush, rush, rush. And what is the hurry? To solve one more case that’s going to be processed through the overloaded justice system? We’re not getting younger.”

“You mean I’m not getting younger. You’re still young.”

“I’m almost forty—”

“Oh please!” Decker glared at her. “You’re thirty-eight and you look twenty-two. I’m fifty and look every inch of it.”

“Well, I think you’re very handsome.”

Decker smiled. “That was sweet. Thank you.”

Rina said, “There are loads of things to do in this city. I can take Hannah to the zoo or the Botanical Garden or the Met. I can go over to YU and bug Sammy. I can shop. Things are much cheaper here. Just tell me for what time should I rebook the flight. Tuesday morning? How about Tuesday night—just in case?”

“Tuesday night is fine. And you’re right. I’ll call up the station and take the entire week off. It’ll make my parents happy, and we’ll be able to relax. We’ll fly back from the Gold Coast on Sunday.”

“Wonderful!”

“I’m glad you’re happy.” Decker picked up the paper.

Rina said, “I can’t believe you’re actually listening to me.”

“I throw you a bone every once in a while. Keeps you grateful.”

Decker had learned that many Jews held their funerals in two stages. First there was the hespid, or memorial, where the closed casket was brought into a hall or synagogue and eulogies were given. Then the coffin was transferred to the grave site and buried by friends and family. Since there was no synagogue in Quinton big enough to hold all the mourners, the hespid was done in the Community Hall in Liberty Park. But even that building couldn’t contain the thick black swarm of people that spilled out the door and onto the parkway lawns.

Rina had gone into Quinton earlier with Jonathan and Raisie. They had asked Decker to come along, but he had declined because of obligations: He was still trying to locate the address that Donatti had given him. He had told his wife and his brother that he’d meet up with them later. He’d drive to Quinton in his own car. (Sora Lazarus’s car, but who’s counting?) Decker hadn’t figured in “heavy, heavy traffic and getting lost” time. He was a half hour late, and not only couldn’t he find a seat, he couldn’t even get into the structure. Because he was technically “family,” he could have muscled his way inside, but he decided not to bother. He and the Liebers weren’t on solid territory. He’d stay in the background.