“Don’t get defensive.” A long pause. “You’re probably right, Pete. It’s just that they’re visible and hold themselves up to something better. Makes you fair game for getting shot.”

Decker conceded the point. “What can you do? People are people.”

“It feeds into the stereotype. If I didn’t know Rina, I would think you are absolutely out of your friggin’ mind to be associated with them. Even with Rina, I sometimes think you’ve gone overboard.”

“That’s Mom talking.”

“No, Mom thinks you’ve gone overboard for different reasons. She’s worried you’re going to go to hell.”

“Tell her I’m used to warm climates. You know, Jews don’t hold a monopoly on dishonesty. Some of the most religious Baptists have not been paragons of virtue, either.”

“That’s true, but right now you’re not involved with sleazy Baptists. But you may be involved with sleazy Jews.”

“You just said that the Liebers didn’t produce hits.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re clean. It could mean they haven’t been caught. Anyway, let me finish, all right?”

“There’s more?”

“Yes, there’s more. Quinton produced a couple of hits in my district. For what it’s worth, several teens who were vacationing in Miami with their parents were arrested during a rave raid. The kids were popping ecstasy. I believe they were originally slapped with drug possession, but the charges were knocked down to the lesser misdemeanor of disorderly conduct. Negotiations obviously. Someone got paid off.”

Decker’s brain took off. The lone pill in Ephraim’s hotel room.

“Bro, are you with me?” Randy said into the receiver.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Ecstasy, huh?”

“Yeah, ecstasy. That’s usually the drug of choice at the raves.”

“What happened to them?”

“They were juveniles. The records are sealed.”

“When was this?”

“Recent. Six months ago.”

Around the time Shayndie was hanging out at the mall.

“Sealed, huh?” Decker questioned.

“Like a drum. I have no idea who they are. However, if Ryan Anderson and Philip Caldwell turn up as problem children in Quinton, well, no one would be surprised. Helpful?”

“Very. Thank you, Randal.”

“You can thank me by keeping your promise.”

“I swear-”

“Yeah, yeah. By the way, you must know that ecstasy is a vice of your brethren.”

“What are you talking about?” Decker asked.

“Israeli Mafia. The Oded Tuito case up in New York? You do know about that, don’t you?”

Decker didn’t. Even as a lieutenant in charge of the detectives’ squad, he had little if nothing to do with either Vice or Narcotics. They were in separate divisions. Plus, he had lived almost all his police life three thousand miles away from the East Coast. “Tell me about it.”

Randy said, “Oded Tuito was a drug courier, finally arrested in Spain after outrunning authorities in New York for about nine months. He used erotic dancers to smuggle in ecstasy from Europe into the U.S.-”

“What?”

“What’s ‘what’?”

“Did you say he used erotic dancers?”

“Did I punch something meaningful?”

“Maybe.”

“You want to clue me in?”

“Finish up about Oded Tuto-”

“Tuito.”

“Spell it for me.”

Randy did. “Where was I?”

“Oded Tuito was arrested in Spain.”

“Yeah, him and the other one… I forgot his name. Hold on, it’ll come to me cause it’s relevant.” Mentally, Randy thumbed through his notes. “Anyway, the second dude also pleaded guilty to conspiracy to distribute-this was about a year ago. Both of them used erotic dancers, and both have ties to the Israeli Mafia-Orgad… Jacob Orgad. That’s the other guy. Anyway, before the dancers, guess who the dealers used for couriers?”

“Dare I hazard it?”

“Chasidic Jews,” Randy answered. “They used couples, young married couples barely out of their teens. Some of the women were pregnant. The dealers stuffed the pills in socks and told them they were carrying diamonds. That went bust, too. But there is a point to all of this.”

“I’m listening.”

“This is still an ongoing case. When the cops took those two clowns outta the loop, other Israelis moved in and took over, but this time the ports changed-Miami/Dade. Narcotics has warrants out for several of them-Shalom Weiss, Ali Harabi, and Yusef Ibn Dod-”

“Last two sound Arabic, not Israeli.”

“They’re Israeli Arabs. There is peace in the Middle East, but not the kind that the world has in mind. I found out from one of our Jewish Narcs that the Israelis and the Arabs do business together in three black markets: drugs, sex, and-I kid you not-watermelon.”

Decker laughed. “Do you have any idea where these guys are hiding out?”

“No. We hauled some of the local dancers. One of them had a bad jones, and when she got desperate enough, she ratted out aforementioned names. But they rabbited as soon as they heard we had the girl in custody.”

“This is all very interesting.”

“Okay. It’s your turn now, Pete. What in particular is interesting?”

“I’m wondering if Lieber knew Shalom Weiss.”

“Me too. You have some suspicions you want to share with me?”

“I found out something that didn’t make much sense to me. Now maybe it does.”

“Go on.”

“Quinton Police chief Virgil Merrin. I met up with him at Tattlers-”

“What the fu-what were you doing there?”

“It’s a long story. Why I was there is immaterial. I was wondering why Merrin was there. Why would he be in such a politically incorrect place right near his hometown?”

“Maybe he’s a horny guy who doesn’t like to travel too far.”

“Or maybe he was there for business, Randy. Think about the pieces of information you just gave me. Kids in Quinton arrested for possession of ecstasy in Miami. The Israeli Mafia using erotic dancers to smuggle in ecstasy. The Quinton Police chief in a restaurant specializing in erotic dancers. Three Israelis at large wanted for ecstasy imports. The girl who was murdered, Shaynda Lieber. She used to hang around some of the local Quinton kids… around six months ago, actually.”

“Interesting.”

“Too many connections to be coincidental,” Decker said. “Or maybe that’s wishful thinking. Randy, could you fax me a picture of Weiss? Actually, all three of them-what were the others’ names?”

“Harabi and Ibn Dod.”

“Yeah, right. All three of them, if you have them.”

“Absolutely, I have something I could fax you. But first, you’ve got to level with me, Pete. If you have a fix on them, you have to tell me.”

“Of course I’d tell you, Randy. Do you honestly think I’d hold back?”

“No comment.”

“I’m wounded,” Decker answered. “I don’t have a fix, but I do have ideas. Because I’m asking myself where could these guys hide and not stick out.”

“In any Arab or Israeli community.”

“Or in any Chasidic community.”

“Arabs?” Randy was skeptical. “Especially now?”

“If they’re true Israeli Arabs, they probably speak Hebrew and have seen enough black-hatters to play the part. And if other New York Chasidim had done some transporting, maybe these jokers had made prior connections.”

“You’re thinking Quinton.”

“If they were supplying the town, why not?”

“I’ll come up-”

“Not yet, Randy. If they’re here in Quinton and you come up, they might jump again. This time, who knows where? Sure, maybe it’ll come to that, but first let me do some groundwork since I’m already a known quantity. Also, I’m still not sure how Merrin fits in, and if it has anything to do with the murders of Ephraim and Shaynda Lieber. Let me poke around a bit.”

“Just a little legwork, right?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Nothing confrontational, Peter, because these guys are dangerous fugitives. Weiss was in the Israeli army. He knows how to shoot a gun.”

“I hear you, Randal, and I thank you for helping me out. Also, I’ve got a pretty good working relationship with the detective in charge of the Lieber case. Mick Novack of the two-eight in Manhattan. He’s a capable guy. All I’m doing is maybe speeding things up a little because I’m working one file and he has fifty.”