Faye Kellerman - Sanctuary

Marge said, “And you have no idea who would do this to Arik and Dalia?”

“No idea.” Gold swayed as he sat, then homed in on Marge. He pointed to her. “If you lived in Israel, you know you would be in army. They take women in Israeli army. Not like in America.”

Marge nodded.

“I bet you’d make a good soldier.” Gold made a muscle. “You look strong.”

Marge smiled.

Decker said, “You want to tell me what you were doing around two-thirty Friday afternoon?”

“I already tell you, I was at my office, seeing client.”

“You didn’t give me his or her name.”

“I know I don’t. My business is private for my clients’ protection. You need to know anything, get papers from a judge. Then I have no choice. But if you want, I take lie test for you. That doesn’t hurt my business.”

“Maybe we’ll set a lie-detector test up,” Decker said. “I understand you were close to Arik’s younger son, Dov.”

Gold rubbed his face. “You have not found the boys.”

“Not so far,” Marge said.

Decker stood up and sat next to Gold. The Israeli’s frame, muscular and compact just a few days ago, now seemed flaccid and droopy. “Any idea where they might be, Mr. Gold?”

“Why would I know?”

Marge said, “They never called you for help?”

Gold whispered, “No, they never call me.”

Decker said, “I understand Dov and his father had been fighting a lot.”

Gold stared at him. “You think they hurt their parents? You are wrong. Goyishe mishugas.”

Gentile craziness, Decker translated in his head. He didn’t bother to inform Gold that there had been a West LA case years ago where two sons had been charged with murdering their parents as they came home from Yom Kippur services.

“Sure, they fight with Arik,” Gold said. “But they don’t kill him. They certainly don’t hurt their mother. They would never, ever hurt their mother. No, that is not why they are missing. They are missing because they are scared.”

“Who scared them?” Marge said.

“If I know that answer, I would tell it to you first thing.” Gold tried to sip from his empty glass. “I don’t know who scared them. If I know, I kill him. End of problem.”

Decker and Marge exchanged glances. Decker said, “Arik did a lot of traveling, didn’t he?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’m not just talking about Antwerp and Israel, Mr. Gold. I’m talking about Russia, Zambia, South Africa, Angola, Mozambique-”

“That’s long-ago travel,” Gold grunted.

“According to his passport it was recent,” Marge said.

Gold sat up, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it with the back of his hand. “You say Arik went to Africa recent?”

“According to Arik’s passport, he went to Angola as recently as a month ago-”

“You have Arik’s passport?”

Marge nodded.

Gold didn’t speak for a moment. Something in his eyes went dead. “Where else do you say he goes?”

“Russia, Zambia, South Africa, Mozambique. Other places that I don’t remember.”

The room fell quiet. Gold reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit up his smoke with a steady hand. Arik’s travelogue had seemed to sober him up. He said, “I don’t know why Arik would go to Africa.”

“You must have been there lots of times yourself.” Decker pointed to the wall. “You have some beautiful primitive pieces.”

Gold’s eyes went to his artwork. “Yes, I’ve been to Africa.” He blew out a plume of smoke. “But I don’t know why Arik would go there now. Bastard doesn’t collect art. Wouldn’t know beauty if it bit him in the ass.”

Marge and Decker swapped raised eyebrows.

Decker said, “What did you mean when you said that Arik would go to Africa now? Had Arik gone in the past?”

“Many times.”

“For what?”

“To squander money.”

Decker looked at Marge. She picked up the ball.

“How did he squander money?” she asked.

“He invested in crazy schemes. Arik got scrambled brains. He thought he could be the next VerHauten. He took his wife’s money and flushed it down the toilet. I think he got it out of his system. But maybe not, the crazy bastard.”

Gold sat back in his couch.

“What? You think I kill him because I call him a bastard. He is a bastard. Bastard to me, bastard to his kids, bastard to his wife, spending her money like it’s his.”

Decker noticed his eyes were dilated. Could be from the booze, could be he was lying. “Why would Arik have gone to Russia? Does it have anything to do with the diamond mines there?”

Gold stared at Decker. “Maybe he goes to the diamond mines and buys stones. If he did, he don’t tell me.”

“Has Arik been an honest partner to you, Mr. Gold?” Marge asked.

“Honest when it counts?”

“What does that mean?” Marge asked.

“It means I was never cheated.”

Decker waited for more. When nothing came, he said, “Why do you think he didn’t tell you about his travels to Africa? Do you think he was investing in schemes again?”

“Not with business money. I keep watch on that.” Gold flicked his wrist and checked the time. “I call Orit. Maybe she knows when the funeral is.” He looked up. “Or maybe you know?”

“We haven’t released the bodies yet, Mr. Gold.”

“Then I wait until she calls me. It’s terrible what happened, terrible for Dalia. She really was a lovely woman.” He took a deep puff of his cigarette and blew out a cloud of poison. Decker squirmed in the smoke. Going on four years and the lust for nicotine had yet to leave his bloodstream.

“You liked Dalia,” he said.

Gold said, “I know her many, many years back in Israel. Many, many, many…” He took another drag off his cigarette. Marge brushed away the smoke, but Decker inhaled deeply.

“You were jealous when she married Arik?” he asked.

“No, I was not jealous.” Gold’s lip quivered. “What difference it make? She’s…”

Marge looked at the Israeli. His eyes were wet. She thought about Arik’s travels, which he apparently kept secret from his partner. Then she thought about Gold’s car parked outside the Yalom house. Just who was screwing whom.

Finally, Marge said, “You were close to Dalia.”

Gold snapped his head up. “Yes. As friends. I already explain that to your partner.”

Decker said, “Mr. Gold, are you angry that your partner traveled to Africa-”

“Yes, I’m pissed off,” Gold broke in. “I have to wonder what Arik was doing there? Was I being cheated? He also took money for travel. I thought he goes to Israel or Antwerp. Now I think he takes a safari vacation on my money.”

Decker said, “Except his wife didn’t go with him.”

“That means nothing,” Gold said. “He left her alone many times.”

“Was Arik Yalom having an affair, Mr. Gold?”

Gold paused, then said, “Dalia suspected, yes. I tell you we were good friends.”

Decker said, “She ever mention a name?”

“No. Dalia is a lady.”

Marge said, “And you don’t know where Arik’s sons are?”

“No, Detective, I don’t know.” Gold pursed his lips. “Maybe I make it easy for you. Maybe I find them for you.”

Decker stared at him. “Keep out of police business, Mr. Gold.”

“Ah, but the boys are my business.” Gold’s smile became cryptic. “I am honest when I say I don’t know where the boys are. But I tell you this much.” He picked up his semi-automatic and shoved the clip into the release catch. “When I find them, I am prepared.”

In all the years Rina had lived at Ohavei Torah, she had never seen the Bais Midrash devoid of students. As a young widow, she had had many sleepless nights, praying for her departed husband’s soul as well as some personal peace of mind. When prayer had failed-as it often had done in the early days-she had bolted out of bed into the cool night air to take aimless walks and clear her mind. Several times her journeys had led her over to the study hall. Inside, she had always found a few of the truly dedicated poring over volumes from the many religious tomes that lined the room. Though women were not forbidden to enter, Rina had always felt that there were unspoken restrictions. She had never gone inside the study hall to learn-even at dinnertime when the Bais Midrash was quiet and peaceful as it was right now.