Faye Kellerman: Sanctuary

She laughed, but it was tinged with sadness.

“They almost didn’t let him into Israel-it was British Palestine back then. But the British were as bad as the Germans. A stone here, a stone there, all of a sudden the guards changed Mendel Stein into Moshe Yalom. They gave him a new identity, a new passport, everything. That’s why my father taught Arik and me to cut stones-a profession to carry on the back.”

Decker said, “Let me ask you this, Orit. You call up your brother and ask him to bring home the piece you want to wear, right?”

“Nachon,” she answered. “Correct.”

“So you go out for the evening, wearing the jewelry. Then you go back home, right?”

“Yes.”

“Where do you keep the piece until you give it back to your brother the following morning?”

Orit didn’t answer.

Decker said, “You’re going to have to trust someone, Orit, if you want to get to the bottom of this.”

“You think something’s wrong, don’t you?”

“We’re a little concerned,” Marge said.

Orit shrugged. “On my dresser. If I want to hide it I don’t put it in my safe.”

“So you do have a safe,” Marge said.

“Yes, but only for the robbers.”

Decker and Marge looked at each other.

“They know you’re in diamonds, you have to give them something if they break in. Otherwise, they get mad. But you don’t keep the good stuff there…only junk.”

Again, Marge and Decker traded glances.

“I learned that from my father, too,” Orit said.

“What else did you learn from Dad?”

Orit hesitated, then spoke in a burst. “Before my father got a vault at the diamond center in Tel Aviv, he had to keep lots of loose stones at home. He used to hide them in the toilet.”

Marge said, “We checked.”

“You did?” Orit was shocked.

“Drug dealers keep their goods in the water tank,” Decker explained. “We also checked the freezer-another common spot. Nothing. Any other suggestions?”

Orit stared at them, then shook her head no.

Marge looked around. “If I were diamonds, where would I be?”

Decker tapped his foot. Again his eyes went back to the mezuzah. Being new to the Jewish religion, Decker realized, was why it had taken him so long to see what was wrong. Outside-door mezuzahs were supposed to be posted on the outside of the doorframe. This one was on the inside. Maybe because it was so fancy, they didn’t want it sullied.

But then again.

Decker slipped on a latex glove. “Detective Dunn, could you get me a screwdriver from the trunk of the car?”

“You got it, Sarge.”

“What you’re going to do?” Orit asked.

“You stick around,” Decker answered. “I want a family witness here in case we find the mother lode.”

“What do you mean-mother lode?”

“Cash, money…possibly diamonds.” Decker pointed to the mezuzah. “There.”

“What?” Orit said. “You’re crazy. That’s a religious article.”

“I know what a mezuzah is, Ms. Bar Lulu. I also know where they are supposed to be posted. Beytecha oovesha’arecha-your houses and gates-on the outside.”

Orit stared at him. “You speak Hebrew?”

“No, but I know the Sh’ma.”

“I knew I liked you.”

Marge came back in and handed Decker the screwdriver. Carefully, he unwound the top and bottom screws that affixed the scroll holder to the wall. They came out more easily than he had expected. He peered inside the hollow rut of the silver casing.

Empty-where was the parchment that contained the holy prayer?

Was there ever a parchment?

He showed the empty holder to Orit. “Can I bag this for evidence?”

“Evidence of what?” Orit asked.

“I want to have this dusted for prints.”

“You think Arik kept money there?”

Marge asked, “What do you think, Ms. Bar Lulu?”

“I think it’s funny the Sh’ma’s not there, yes. But Arik is not a religious man.”

“So why put up a mezuzah period?”

“Maybe for the boys.” Orit waved her hand. “Yes, take it for evidence. As long as it comes back.”

“Ms. Bar Lulu,” Decker said, “does your sister-in-law have a maid?”

“Not now. Dalia had wonderful help for six years. Amelia went back to El Salvador a month ago. Dalia is still looking. She is very particular who is in her house.”

“So who’s been cleaning the house?” Marge asked.

“My lady, Bonita, helps Dalia once a week. Not much to do except laundry. The boys do their own rooms. Bonita was going to come tomorrow. What do I tell her?”

Marge said, “Tell her to hold off until we find out where the family is.”

“That’s what I think, too.”

Decker said, “Do you know anything about the porcelain dogs in the front entry hall?”

“Dogs? What dogs?”

Guess that answered that, Decker thought.

“You want to take dogs, too?”

Decker shook his head. “Just the mezuzah. I’ll need you to sign something that states we have your permission to take it,” Decker said. “Make sure that everyone’s satisfied that we did this by the book.”

“By the book?” Orit asked.

“That we acted kosher,” Decker said.

“Ah, that I understand.”

Sitting at the conference-sized dining table, Decker felt like a movie mogul. The tabletop was a slab of pink marble swirled with white and blue-no doubt some custom job out of an exotic quarry. Orit Bar Lulu was at his right; Marge sat across the rose-colored sea. Orit seemed scared. Their prolonged presence had justified her suspicions and that was not good news. Decker placed his notebook on the stone, wondering if he could write without scratching the surface. He gave Marge the go-ahead.

“I’d like to ask you a few questions, Ms. Bar Lulu,” Marge said.

“Of course. Why else am I here?”

Marge cleared her throat. “When was the last time you saw or heard from your brother?”

“Two days ago.” Orit sighed. “We had lunch together-Arik came to the office-the real estate office where Dalia and I work.”

“The name?”

“Manor One Realty.”

Marge wrote it down. “Anything special happen at lunch?”

“Not a thing. Everything was regular.”

“They didn’t seem nervous? Excited maybe?”

“I saw nothing. Of course, I wasn’t looking for something wrong, you know?”

Marge nodded. “Then what happened?”

“What happened?” Orit shrugged. “Nothing happened. We ate lunch, talked about the kids. Then Arik and Dalia left.”

“Together?”

“Yes. It was close to quitting time so she left with him. The next day Dalia didn’t come to work. I didn’t think anything about it. Real estate agents work from their homes all the time. So maybe she took the morning off. I called her in the afternoon to ask her to pick up Sharoni. No answer. I called two, three times maybe. No machine, nothing. I thought that was strange so I called my brother at work. His partner told me he didn’t show up today-no explanation, nothing. Shaul was mad, I could tell. I didn’t want to get Arik in trouble, so I made excuses.”

“What kind of excuses,” Marge said.

“Oh, the usual. Something came up…ehhhh, he must have something important to do. Shaul didn’t like my excuses. He’s very hard on Arik, but that’s not new.”

“What do you mean, ‘Shaul’s hard on Arik’?” Decker asked as he wrote.

“They’re partners. But they are very different-fire and water.”

Marge caught Decker’s eye. They’d go over that one later.

Orit didn’t seem to notice. “But just like life needs fire and water, they needed each other. So what if they don’t get along?”

“They fought publicly?” Marge asked casually. “Or was it more like a cold war.”