29

It was quarter to one when Decker made it back to the synagogue, but Jonathan was still in conference. Five minutes later, Decker saw his brother walking out of his office with a forty-plus black-suited woman and a teenage boy. The woman held a balled-up tissue to her eyes, and the kid wore a sullen moue, his eyes focused on the exit door. Problems, problems, problems. Jonathan accompanied them outside, returning a minute later, trotting back toward his office.

“Jon,” Decker called out.

The rabbi spun around. “Akiva. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He did a little jog to catch up with him. “You were in there for a while. How about some lunch?”

Jonathan said, “If it’s a social thing-and I suspect not-I can’t afford the time. If you need me, I’m here for you.”

“Where are you off to?”

“I have to go back to Quinton.”

“Perfect! You can drive and we’ll talk in the van.”

Instant hesitancy registered on the rabbi’s face. Decker came to his rescue. “I have no intention of visiting your in-laws. I have other business there-on the north side.”

Now his eyes were curious. “What kind of business?”

“I’ll tell you about it later. How about if I grab a cup of coffee and meet you at the van? It’s parked down the street.”

Jonathan said, “You found a parking space?”

“After a half hour of circling. Go get your things. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

It took more like fifteen minutes. And even when Jonathan did pull out, he couldn’t get very far. Traffic was solid steel, distance measured in inches as the van crept over to the Henry Hudson Parkway, horns blaring in protest and frustration.

Jonathan remained stoic. “There must be some dignitary in town.”

“I read something about a conference-National African Resource Agenda-over at a church.”

“That’s right. The Riverside Cathedral is only blocks from the shul. I’ve been through this before. It’s going to take time to get out of here.”

“It’s fine with me.” Decker finished his coffee, placed it in a cup holder, then regarded his brother in his heavy wool three-piece suit and tie. Heat was blasting from the vents. “Why don’t you take off your jacket, Jon, while you have the chance?”

“Good idea.” The cars were at a standstill anyway. “You suggested lunch. Are you hungry?”

“I can wait.”

“I have a couple of sandwiches in my briefcase.”

“In a few minutes, thanks.” Silence. “Have you talked to Raisie at all?”

“Not since this morning.”

“I won’t ask.”

“It’s probably best that you don’t.”

Decker ran a finger across his mustache. “I need some confidentiality right now. I have to know that whatever I say won’t go beyond the two of us.”

“I understand,” Jonathan answered. “Go on.”

“I talked to some people this morning, Jon. It seems that there was conflict between your brothers-in-law. I don’t know the details, but it was over business. In a sentence, I think Ephraim was having some difficulties accepting some of Chaim’s marginal business practices.” He recounted the conversation. “Ephraim was thinking about going to your father-in-law, but then he was murdered. Anything you can add to help me with this?”

“Who’d you talk to?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Is this person reliable?”

“No reason to lie.”

“I have no problem keeping your words confidential, Akiva. I’m a rabbi; I have privileges. But the confidentiality only goes one way. I’m not as free to talk as you are.”

Decker thought a moment. “Attorneys have confidentiality. I’m a lawyer. I passed the bar. I even practiced a long time ago.”

“In California. We’re in New York.”

Decker grinned. “It would make an interesting test case, no?”

Jonathan paused, then took out a dollar. “You’re hired.”

Decker turned the bill over in his hands. “And it looks like I’m reasonable, too.”

“It’s no reflection on your legal aptitude.” Jonathan measured his words. “I don’t know much, but I’ll tell you what I do know. Chaim was in debt. He actually borrowed some money from me-which I gave him. Five thousand dollars.”

“Not exactly pocket change.”

“No, it wasn’t. When he asked for more, I gave him five, six hundred dollars. I told him that was all I could do. And in the future, to please remember that his sister wasn’t working and I had three kids in private school.”

“You did your bit.”

“I thought so. He wasn’t pleased, but he understood. A few weeks later, he came back to me. He said he knew I couldn’t afford any more loans, but what about the shul? Could he borrow from the shul’s gemach fund?”

“That’s the charity fund, right?”

“Yes, gemach is the charity fund. However, I didn’t consider him a charity case. Also, it was a terrible conflict of interest-bailing my brother-in-law out of debt. I told him it wasn’t an option. He got huffy. For a while, he and I weren’t speaking. Then about six months ago, we settled our differences. In the main, he apologized. He told me that at the time he was being squeezed by his creditors, that business had been terrible. He’d been desperate. But things had turned around. Business was slowly getting better. It was during Elul, so I figured he was taking stock in what lay ahead for him.”

Elul is the month before Rosh Hashanah. The thirty days served as a wake-up call for those in need to atone for the past year’s sins. In Jewish law, everyone fell into the repentant category. Elul usually came around the beginning of September in the secular calendar-around six months ago.

“And?” Decker prodded.

“And that’s it. We reconciled. Especially after September eleventh, our differences seemed absolutely silly. He had us over for dinner; we had them over for dinner. We took Shayndie for a couple of weekends. Everything seemed all right… until this exploded in our faces.”

“What did Chaim do to turn the business around?”

“I was under the impression that he didn’t do anything. That things simply improved.”

“So he didn’t give you any specifics?”

“No.”

“What about Ephraim? Did he give you any explanation for the turnaround?”

“No, he didn’t say anything to me. I always had the feeling that it took all of Ephraim’s energies just to be Ephraim. He was dealing with his own set of problems.”

“I’m going to think out loud,” Decker said. “Don’t take offense.”

“I understand.”

“Chaim borrows from the bank to expand the business, then falls into deep debt. Recession hits and business turns terrible. He borrows here, he borrows there-from relatives, maybe from friends, to scratch by, to put the bankers at bay. But it’s not enough. He gets panicky enough to ask you to do something illegal-”

“I don’t know if he viewed it as illegal.”

“It’s iffy at best, Jonathan. And even after you explained it to him, which I’m sure you did and in great detail, he balks. He stops speaking to you. Your words, right?”

Jonathan was silent, masking his apprehension by concentrating on his driving.

“Then all of a sudden, things turn around,” Decker said.

“I don’t know if it was all of a sudden,” Jonathan said.

“Business was slowly getting better, you said. Let me parse this out for a moment. Business slowly getting better doesn’t mean a sudden influx of money-enough so that you’re no longer worried about loan officers breathing down your neck. Business slowly getting better implies a stretched-out process.”

Jonathan said, “I’m not following you.”

“That’s because I’m working this through as I go along,” Decker told him. “Okay. We have this slow recovery. But then I’m told that Ephraim was upset about Chaim’s business practices. So you know what I’m thinking, Jon. I’m thinking that Chaim wasn’t relying on his slowly recovering business to pull him through. I’m thinking that maybe the guy suddenly came into quick cash-possibly by illegal means. More than likely by illegal means-unless you know of any fortuitous inheritances.”