“No, no!” Garfield was upset and it showed. “There’s no argument. I love my brother. I’ll never convince him of it, but I do. And he told me that you tried to save his son, that you risked your life to save a stranger. But I won’t marry you to a Jewish woman unless you convert.”

He’ll convert, Rachel wanted to say. And he’s circumcised. I know that. So marry us, just marry us. That’s all we want.

But she said, “We didn’t come here for that.” She filled the coffeepot, opened the strange refrigerator, and found the coffee. Garfield gave her a measuring spoon and said, “No? For what, then?”

Rachel and Hawkins looked at each other. The sun was burning off the smog. The room brightened and suddenly Rachel said, “We have to kill a golem.”

All Garfield did was put down the spoon. “A golem,” he said.

She nodded.

“You’ve seen a golem?” he asked kindly.

“No,” he admitted, “we haven’t seen it.”

“Ah, someone told you about it.”

“Partly,” Hawkins said.

Garfield sat back and spread butter on the coffee cake Rachel had sliced for him. He ate as he talked, blowing crumbs and bits of nut across the table. Leah watched him, enthralled. “My brother says to see you, I see you. You come here in the morning with a little girl who should be home where it’s warm. You laugh and cry like mad people and I find you necking in the kitchen and you tell me you want to kill a golem that you’ve never seen and only heard about.” He sounded more bewildered than angry. “You’re not joking, are you?”

“I don’t think so,” Hawkins said.

“What would you do if you were me? It’s pointless to call the police, you are the police. And you,” he looked at Rachel, “are the daughter-­in-­law of a loved and respected man.”

“Why?” Rachel asked.

“Why?” Garfield repeated. “Why is Jacob Levy loved?”

“Yes. Why?”

“They say he outwitted the Nazis and saved the people,” Garfield answered.

“The golem saved them,” Rachel said.

Garfield stared at her.

“It killed Nazi guards,” Rachel told Garfield. “The Germans were terrified, not outwitted.”

“Who told you that?” Garfield snapped.

“Major Louis Bianco . . . the man who opened the camp.”

“Ah, a major,” Garfield intoned, “he saw the golem.”

“No. He . . . he heard about it.” Oh God, Rachel thought, it sounds so lame. He won’t believe us, he won’t help.

“Heard?” Now Garfield sounded sarcastic. “From whom did he hear this wonderful tale?”

“From the commandant of Belzec,” Rachel said quietly. “Johann Speiser.” The name had an effect. Garfield was quiet for a moment, then he asked, “Where is this golem?”

“Long Island,” Rachel said, blushing.

“Ah. A golem kills some Nazis and moves to Long Island.”

Rachel was quiet.