Goldberg’s eyes became moist. “It’s too bad you never knew Ryan before he decompensated. He had a poet’s soul and was so incredibly talented. It was all those fucking drugs. It took him to a place he couldn’t handle. It pushed him over the edge.”

Decker nodded. “It must be hard for you.”

“I’ve made peace with it. The Ryan I knew and loved died a long time ago. The Ryan that now exists is just a shell.”

TIPTOEING IN AT midnight, Decker saw that the light was off in his bedroom but shining through the crack of his daughter’s private space. He knocked gently and went in after receiving permission to approach from the queen. Hannah was sitting cross-legged on her bed, garbed in candy-striped pajamas, her bright red hair flowing past her shoulders. The TV was on, but muted. Her computer was in her lap, and she was talking on her phone while highlighting something in a textbook.

She put down the phone. “Hi, Abba.”

Decker said, “Did you hang up the call?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you tell your friend you’ll call back in a minute? Better yet, why don’t you get some sleep?”

Hannah picked up the phone. “I gotta go. Bye.” She looked at her father. “What’s up? You look tired.”

“I am tired.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“I will in a minute.” He sat down on the edge of her bed. “What’s going on in your life?”

“Nothing.”

“How are your friends?”

“Fine.”

“How’s school?”

“Okay.”

He smiled. She smiled. Decker said, “Well, it’s been nice having this chat with you.”

Hannah said, “I don’t have anything to say. You’re the one in the exciting job, but you never talk.”

Decker was about to respond defensively but held himself in check. “What do you want to know?”

“What was your day like?”

“Long and fruitless. I spent the majority of my evening hunting around for a psychologically compromised man who seems to have suddenly disappeared.”

“That’s sad. Does he have any relatives?”

“He has a brother who is very concerned.” Hannah looked upset, so Decker added, “It could be he didn’t disappear. Maybe he just decided to take off.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. It’s my job to second-guess people, but often I’m wrong.”

“Anything good happen?”

“Uh, yeah, actually.” He smiled. “I spoke to a couple of detectives in Hollywood and they brought me on board a case they’re working on. It was very nice of them considering I poked around their business without asking.”

“What case?”

“The murder of a record producer that might be related to a cold case I’m working on.”

“The one involving the Doodoo Sluts?”

Decker tried to hide his initial surprise. “Uh, yeah, we spoke about that, didn’t we? See, I do talk to you about my cases.”