“Your mother’s words? I’ve never known her to brag.”

“Old age… I guess her inhibitions are lowered. Then she told me that Omah used to sew dresses for some of the richest people in Munich. Then… almost conspiratorial, as if my grandfather could hear from the grave, she said that Omah was a better seamstress than Opah was a tailor. Then”-Rina’s face took on a slight blush-“Then she said if Hannah needs more information, she’d be happy to talk with her.”

“Have you informed Hannah about your deception?”

“Hannah was happy to help me out. I think she likes playing detective. Truly her father’s daughter. So putting two and two together, it stands to reason that Omah worked for this woman Julia Schoennacht as a seamstress.”

“Where did Julia Schoennacht live?”

She pointed to her address. “Near Ludwig-Maximilian-University in Schwabing… not so far from the Englischer Garten. So maybe Omahwasa random murder. Maybe she was walking through the park on her way home when someone grabbed her.”

“I don’t know where your grandmother lived. Would she have walked through the park to go home?”

“My grandmother lived around here.” Rina located the area on the map. “Near the Gartnerplatz off Reichenbachstrasse.”

“These names are going to kill me,” Decker said.

“You’ve got to add imaginary slash marks.”

“Your grandparents’ house was nowhere near the park,” Decker pointed out. “And to get to Julia Schoennacht’s house near… what’s this street… Ludwigstrasse or is it Leopoldstrasse… they look like they run into one another… Anyway, there wouldn’t be any reason for your grandmother to walk through the Englischer Garten. It’s out of the way.”

“It’s not that much out of the way and it is more scenic. And look here”-Rina flipped through several pages-“Look at this, Peter. My grandmother was-quote unquote-relieved of her services about two weeks before she was murdered. Do you want to hear my theory?”

“Lay it on me.”

“Maybe she went back to the house for some unfinished business. Maybe there was a pay dispute or something. Maybe a fight broke out and a tragedy occurred. The house was near the garden, so that was the easiest place to hide the body. And of course, Julia Schoennacht wouldn’t tell the police any of this.”

“So already you have decided that your grandmother’s killer was her former employer. It’s as good a theory as any.” Decker closed the file. “So why don’t we leave it at that. Besides, there’re too manystrasseson the map.”

Rina said, “I want to know the truth-or as close as I can come to the truth. Besides, I can’t picture a wealthy, aristocratic woman dragging my grandmother into a park and bludgeoning her to death.”

“She hired a servant to do it. You said it yourself, Rina. What would be the big deal? Another dead Jew? Good riddance to bad rubbish. When was Kristallnacht?”

“In 1938.”

“So this was before.”

“About ten years before. But Hitler was already a dominant force.” Rina rubbed her hands together. “Since everything was going so well with Mama, I accepted an invitation for dinner at her house on Tuesday night-if that’s okay with you.”

“If you want to be a masochist.”

Rina hit him. “Don’t be like that.”

“I like your parents. I don’t fight with them. You do.”

Silence.

“Okay, you have a point,” Rina admitted. “Look. I promise I won’t fight. Besides, they want to see the boys. So maybe we can continue the family-tree ruse?”

“And you don’t think Mama will catch on when I start to take notes?”

“Could you be a little more subtle?”

“Subtlety is not my strong suit,” Decker remarked. “However, if I should think up the questions and you should ask them…”

“Better still, let Hannah ask them.”

“What kind of a mother would use her own daughter as a shill?”

“Not a shill-a cohort.” Rina patted his shoulder. “Detection as a family affair. I see a screenplay in the making.”

“Funny. All I see is trouble in the making.”

18

The urge to combthe streets for information was overwhelming. But I had made a promise to my father, and that was that. Even so, I devised a mental list of how I’d proceed if I were a gold shield. First I’d talk to Klinghoffner, and find out all I could about David-who he was and where he might have gone. Then I’d ask him if there had been any trouble between his students and street gangs. There were also the girls I had talked with at the high school. If anyone would know about street gangs, it would be those who lived where the hoodlums operated. I also knew street people: Alice Anne, Magenta and others of her ilk, and even her pimp, Burton. There were times I could have busted him, but I chose not to because, after some strong prodding, he had closed shop for the night. I had come by my “ears” honestly.

I also thought about how to approach Russ MacGregor. Would he want my help? Would he care about a six-month-old crime? Would he bother with a case that had never been reported to the police, where there was no physical evidence,andwhere the primary witness was a mentally disabled girl who had just abandoned her baby? I sorted through all these what-ifs because the morning’s conversation with Sarah and Louise Sanders had piqued my curiosity.

Then I remembered the last time I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong. A year of therapy and I could almost get through a session without breaking down. Progress was slow, and I didn’t need another trauma. I kept telling myself to play by the rules, but the old rebellious urges kept surfacing like bottles bobbing in the ocean. I guess that meant I was getting better.

At loose ends, I wanted to be anywhere but home. Once, I had loved my place, but now it was just a pit stop. I should have moved, but I didn’t want yet another upheaval in my life. So I slept and I ate and I pretended I was doing fine. With Dad gone, I felt very much alone. I put on a bright blue blouse, black wool crepe trousers, and four-inch-high black boots that adjusted my height to almost six feet. I made up my face and hit the road in my five-year-old black Lexus, courtesy of Dad and Mom. They had thought a big car would increase my sense of well-being. All it did was increase my gas allowance. I wasn’t complaining, though. My wheels had a drop-dead stereo and cushy seats with lumbar support, which helped my sore back as well as my bruised ego.

As I looked in the mirror, I struck a pose that said I hadn’t a care in the world. I was always an accomplished fibber.

From my apartment, I drove north on Beverly Drive, passing the green lawns and flower beds of suburban Beverlywood, through the shopping district of Beverly Hills-lots of foot traffic out today-into the astronomically expensive and bloated estates of Beverly Hills. From there, I continued north until I hooked a right onto Sunset. I cruised through West Hollywood in slow-moving traffic, passing all the hot clubs, one of them sporting long lines even though opening time was hours away. I drove by a half-dozen edgy clothing boutiques, a couple of live theaters, and a block filled with kissy-kissy restaurants offering sidewalk dining, overpriced grub, and lots of lost souls.

When I turned onto Hollywood Boulevard, I purposely avoided looking for any of my sources, figuring why screw if you can’t come. I opened the moon roof and enjoyed the heat and sunlight on my skin, the red downy hair of my arms bleached strawberry blond in the bright rays. Here, in the heart of old Tinseltown, pedestrians abounded. There were the tourists who gaped at the street show and snapped picture after picture of weirdo after weirdo. Joining the fray were scores of pierced and spike-haired kids, snacking on junk food, just hanging around. I even spotted some families out for the afternoon, reading the names on the famous star-studded sidewalks. I passed the Kodak Theatre, Mann’s Chinese Theatre, the El Capitan, the newly constructed shopping malls, the old kiosk gift shops, the tattoo parlors, the tacky lingerie boutiques, the sex shops, and other various and sundry scamsters including budget lawyers advertising special rates for bail bonds. Mixed into the scene were the ubiquitous high-rise office buildings. I turned left onto Western, riding the boulevard until it dead-ended at Griffith Park. More people and more traffic, but I didn’t care. I had a destination in mind, but I wasn’t in any hurry to get there.