“That’s not a fair assessment,” Kreisman interrupted.

“I’m reporting the news, Sgan Nitzav, not making a value judgment,” Decker said. “My partner in America and I had discussed the possibility that Arik Yalom had been blackmailing Kate Milligan. Why else would Milligan deal directly with someone as small as Yalom?”

“Go on,” Rina said.

“What could Yalom have had on her that would have screwed her up with VerHauten?” Decker asked. “We figured maybe she had an affair with a black. Maybe the guy was a Black Muslim to boot. Having an affair with someone like that would have been highly frowned upon in a bastion of white conservatism like VerHauten.”

Kreisman said, “I don’t think VerHauten would have dismissed her services as long as she was doing a good job. Business is business.”

Rina said, “Maybe while working for VerHauten, Milligan came to some sort of an epiphany. She met a black man, fell deeply in love, and was suddenly full of rage that she couldn’t openly love him.”

Decker said, “And opportunity reared its head. Here was a way to get rich and get even with VerHauten-the white power structure of South Africa. Not only that, Israel, another oppressor country, would get screwed as well.”

“Do you have a name for this mysterious black man?” Kreisman asked.

“No,” Decker said. “Just throwing out ideas. Retrospectively dissecting Milligan’s mind.”

“A nice theory,” Kreisman said. “Find a name to go along with it and you might give us something to work with.”

Rina blurted out, “Donald.”

Decker looked at her.

“And why not?” Rina said.

Decker said, “Didn’t Milligan say that Donald was working for her? That he was her underling?”

“Peter,” Rina chided. “Where is it written that the woman can’t have the upper hand in a love relationship?”

“Women always have the upper hand in a love relationship,” Kreisman said, dryly.

“Well, not always,” Rina said.

There was a pause. Then Kreisman and Decker said in unison, “Always.”

37

Without thinking, Rina leaned against the heavy glass door, butting it open with her shoulder.

“What are you doing? I’ll get that.” Decker held open the door. “Chivalry isn’t totally dead.”

He stepped aside and let Rina enter the hotel lobby first. It was filled with casually dressed tourists, bellhops, management personnel, and lots of kids garbed in bathing wear. Wearily, Rina trudged up to the front desk and checked for messages. Nothing. She slung her purse over her shoulder and slipped her arm around Peter. “I’m hungry.”

“I’m tired of room service,” Decker said. “Let’s just eat downstairs.”

“Fine. Do you want to eat meat or dairy?”

“Up to you.”

“I’ll opt for dairy,” Rina said. “The thought of eating fleisch on three hours of sleep churns my stomach. Besides, I’m in the mood for onion soup.”

Descending a flight of stairs, they walked into a patio restaurant, replete with white wicker tables and chairs shaded by a lattice roof of blooming vines. The sun was out, the air smelled freshly washed. Children and pool noises chirped in the background. They were seated in a cozy corner, the table dressed with white linen and scented roses. A busboy came over, filled their crystal water glasses, and presented them with a basket of crusty olive and onion bread. Decker took a slice and topped it with a generous amount of sweet butter.

“This is nice,” he said.

“Let’s pretend we’re on vacation.” Rina took some bread and picked at the onions. “How about a moratorium on work?”

“Great.” Decker polished off his bread and took another slice.

A raven-haired waitress presented them with menus which they studied for a few minutes. Decker put his down, then said, “How were the kids when you spoke to them?”

“Surprised that we were awake at three in the morning. The family was on its way out to dinner courtesy of my parents.”

“Where?”

“Kosher Kanton. The boys were in the mood for sweet and sour chicken.”

The waitress came, took their orders, and left. Decker said, “How’s the baby?”

“In a great mood. Although Nora told me that Hannah does say ‘Mama’ a lot.”

“Uh-oh.”

“No big deal.” Rina looked up. “We’ve only been away for two days. We should be home soon.”

“Rina, if you want to go back, I can manage on my own. Lord knows you eased my way. I can take it from here.”

Rina bit her lip. “I would except I can’t get Honey Klein and her kids off my mind.”

“We could look for Honey, too,” Decker said. “Depends how long you want to stay here.”

“I want to go home,” Rina admitted. “I’m exhausted and I miss the kids. But I also want resolution. I’m torn.”

“Well, right now we’re not going anywhere. We don’t have our passports.”

“When do you think we’ll get them back?”

“I’m sure you could get yours back anytime you wanted. As for me, they may take longer to check me out.”

“You’re going in for questioning this afternoon?” Rina asked.

“Looks that way. Kreisman isn’t done with me.”

“He doesn’t trust you.”

“I know. Frankly, I don’t blame him. I’m here for a couple of days and all sorts of bombs start exploding-”

“Peter, you saved the Bursa from blowing up. You’re a hero!”

“I’ll let you in on a clue, Rina. Police are suspicious of heroes.”

“What does he want with you?”

“To go over my case, bit by bit. Frankly, I welcome some fresh input. My main concern right now is finding Dov Yalom. But I sure wouldn’t mind finding Milligan as well.”

“What about Shaul Gold?”

“Yeah, I forgot about him. Where the hell is Gold in all of this? And why was Milligan looking for him?”

Rina paused. “Peter, I have a thought.”

“Shoot.”

“What if Yalom found out about Milligan’s plan to blow up the Bursa? Wouldn’t that be a reason to want him dead?”

Decker waited a beat. “Absolutely.”

“Suppose Milligan thought that maybe Yalom had told his sons…or possibly Gold…about the terrorist plan. Couldn’t that be the reason why Milligan was looking for Gold…or the boys?”

“Absolutely.”

“So maybe that was the reason why Milligan was dealing with Yalom directly. Maybe he was blackmailing her over the Bursa plans.”

“But you can’t blackmail someone for something that hasn’t happened.”

“Maybe she murdered him so she could make it happen. And maybe Arik’s sons found out about it and that’s why they ran.”

Decker ran his tongue in his cheek. “There’s one way to find out. While I’m at the police station, I have a job for you if you’re interested.”

“What?”

“Find Gil Yalom…talk to him.”

“Talk to him about what?”

“See if you can get him to tell you what’s going on.”

“How do I do that?”

Decker shrugged. “It’s intangible. Each person’s different.” He paused. “Hell, even if you can’t get him to talk about the case, just go visit him. Give him some sympathy. The kid’s parents were murdered, he’s scared shitless. He’s a sensitive kid, Rina. Did I tell you about the poetry he wrote? Full of longing and hope for a better world.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Last night he was in terrible shock. Maybe he’s been that way since his parents were murdered. It was Dov who had made the phone calls to his cousin and grandparents. Find Gil. If for no other reason than to tell him he’s got people on his side.”

Rina nodded. “How?”

“You might try calling up the Yaloms. They might know which hospital Gil was admitted to. They might tell you.”

“They’d tell you as well as me. After all, you were the hero yesterday. You’re in today’s paper, you know.”

“I am?”

“The Jerusalem Examiner here. Someone showed me a copy while you were with Kreisman in the Bursa. Apparently, you were here with your wife on vacation, and you just happened to be visiting Or Torah Yeshiva. Suddenly you noticed a suspicious man.” Rina sang out. “Duh-da-duh-duh.”