A few seconds of silence before Melrose turned his curious eyes on Jaime Dahl. “If you do routine searches for contraband, I’m assuming you have a list as to what constitutes contraband?”

“Of course.”

“And does it say specifically what items are contraband?”

“Stolen items are contraband,” Williams interjected.

“So a cup is not illegal.”

“The stolen cup is illegal,” Decker said.

“According to you, Lieutenant, a silver cup was reported stolen from a synagogue,” Melrose pointed out. “How do you know for certain that this is the cup in question? There may be hundreds like it.”

“Do you want proof that the cup belongs to the synagogue? That can be arranged. I can probably even dig up the original sales receipt. But I’ll tell you one thing for your own benefit, in case your client wants to change his story. That cup isn’t an heirloom. We bought it a year ago when the synagogue began having regular kiddushes after services.”

“What’s a kiddushes?” Jaime Dahl asked.

“Hors d’oeuvres after the Sabbath prayers. Before you eat, you need to make a benediction using wine. Hence, the silver cup.” Decker just realized that suddenly he was the resident Jewish expert. A position usually reserved for Rina, he felt strange occupying it now.

Melrose said, “You know a lot about this particular synagogue. May I ask if you’re a member?”

“You may ask, and I’ll even answer it, Counselor. Yes, I am a member.”

“So you’re hardly an unbiased party in this investigation.”

“That may be. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I can identify this cup as stolen.”

Melrose bluffed it out. “None of this will hold up in court. It’s an illegal search and seizure done under false pretenses. You told the students that this was a routine contraband check.”

Carter stood up. “Aren’t we missing the main issue? What were you doing with a cup from a vandalized synagogue, Ernesto?”

“It isn’t the right time to talk about this,” Melrose said.

Jill said, “This is all a mistake. Our son would never have anything to do—”

“Are you going to arrest the boy?” Melrose asked. “Yes or no?”

Decker sat back. He addressed his comments to Ernesto. “Mr. Golding, this isn’t going to go away. I am going to find out what happened, and if you’re involved, it’s going to come out. You can be in the catbird seat, or one of your cohorts can bring you down. Take your pick!”

“Ernie, what’s going on?” his mother asked.

“Nothing, Mom,” Ernesto answered. His breathing suddenly became audible. “He’s trying to psych you out. He’s a part of an organization of brutality. Police lie all the time. They’re never to be trusted. How many times have you told me that?”