Faye Kellerman - Sanctuary

Marge laughed incredulously. “I can’t believe such…oh God, I know I’m going to pronounce this wrong…chutzpah?”

“Very good,” Decker said. “Incidentally, the statement was not only written in English-Husseini speaks only Arabic-but was in Milligan’s handwriting.”

Marge stopped talking for a moment. “Wonder who actually pulled the trigger on the parents?”

“We asked the boys about that,” Decker said. “They seem certain it was Milligan’s doing. Gil told us that his father and Milligan often had secret meetings.”

“Then what lured Dalia to the mountains?”

“Gil thought that maybe his mother went willingly to get the gunmen away from their house. Because she knew her sons would soon be coming home from school.”

“She was protecting her offspring.”

“It’s a basic thing,” Decker said. “We may never know the truth unless we get Milligan. And frankly, I don’t think that’s likely. According to Israeli intelligence, she and her friend Donald Haas have the means to bury themselves for a long time. He’s got lots of friends in Arab countries. And she made lots of contingency plans. She owns places in Libya, Iraq, and Syria.”

“The countries that invested heavily in the diamond stocks.”

“Right. For all we know, she still may be calling some shots from wherever she is. And if the Palestinians ever get their own state, she’ll be a queen. Israel won’t be able to touch her. And she’ll be a hero among the terrorists, the woman who almost destroyed Israel’s biggest industry. You want to know the irony of the whole thing?”

“What?”

“She got the idea from Arik Yalom. Not the blowing up the Bursa part. But the idea of setting up competition in the industry, using Palestinian money as capital. Yalom probably felt his knowledge of diamonds was going to be indispensable to her. So he was probably walking around feeling pretty damn secure.”

“Or maybe not. Didn’t Gil say he wavered between euphoria and paranoia?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Could be he knew Milligan wasn’t trustworthy no matter how much he felt she needed him.”

“Or maybe he found out about Haas. Found out that Milligan was just using him.” Marge paused. “You know, she didn’t have to use him once he gave her the idea. Why bother killing him?”

Decker shrugged. “Maybe Arik found out about Milligan’s plan to blow up the Bursa. He might have been in love with her, he might have been greedy, but doing something like that…I don’t see even a schmuck like Arik going along with destroying his homeland.”

“So why didn’t he just say something to security?”

“Maybe he tried to reason with Milligan first. That would have been a big mistake.” Decker took a deep breath and let it out. “Milligan is a formidable enemy.”

“Think we’ll ever get our hands on her?” Marge asked.

“Truthfully?” Decker shook his head. “Not a chance.”

A grin on her face and a baby in her arms, Rina greeted Decker at the doorway. “Can you believe it! Hannah’s walking! She’s only ten months old!”

Decker grabbed the baby from Rina. “Ten months old and walking! Does that mean we’re going to have to put all the breakables up another notch?”

“Looks that way.” Rina kissed Hannah’s cheek. “She waited for us to come home before she took her first steps. I know it was a conscious decision.”

“Absolutely.” Decker handed the baby back to Rina. “Where are the boys?”

“Preparing the horse for the ride.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Decker frowned. “I did promise to take them, didn’t I?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to make a couple of calls first.”

“They’ll wait. Who’re you calling?”

“New York,” Decker said. “The detective in charge of Honey Klein’s case had left by the time I called. They gave me his home phone number. His wife told me to call around now.”

Hannah squirmed in Rina’s arms. Gently, she lowered the baby to her feet. “What’s happening with that?”

“They’re investigating the murder, but they’re a ways off from any indictment.”

“Is Honey a suspect?”

“Their prime suspect. But they don’t have any evidence to back up their suspicions. The cops have gone out to the village at least a half dozen times and come back empty. They’re hitting walls.”

“Peter, maybe she really didn’t know what was going on. Maybe she left without knowing any details.”

“I don’t think she knew details, but she knew what was going on. Otherwise, why would she bother with the false passports? And, Rina, she admitted that, in her absence, she knew that some people were going to try to convince Gershon to give her a get. What does that sound like to you?”

Rina didn’t answer.

“Then when you add the fact that the Rebbe didn’t want me looking into Honey’s disappearance…it doesn’t look good for her. But that doesn’t mean they’ll get an indictment.”

Rina followed Hannah around the living room. “Nobody meant for him to die.”

Decker tailed after his wife and daughter. He picked Hannah up by her waist and swung her under his knees.

“This is all too sad to contemplate,” Rina said.

“Yes, it is. Sometimes life is very sad.” He smiled softly and placed Hannah on top of his shoulders. “I guess I don’t have to tell you that.”

Rina sighed and sat down. “So what should Honey have done?”

“You’re asking for my opinion?” Decker said.

“Yes.”

“She should have gotten a civil divorce and gone on with her life.”

“What kind of life would she have had without a Jewish divorce?”

“So she’s better off now, knowing that in some way she’s responsible for murdering her husband?”

“No, you’re right. She’s not better off.” Rina was quiet. “Sometimes you simply make the wrong decision.”

“I feel sorry for Honey,” Decker said. “From the bottom of my heart, I feel very bad for her. But Rina, she didn’t make the wrong decision. Unfortunately, she made a bad decision.” He lowered Hannah to the ground. “I think she needs to be changed. My shoulders feel a little too warm and a little too moist. You want me to do it?”

“I’ll do it.” Rina scooped up the toddler. “Thank God for babies. They keep you honest.”

Decker pressed the button; Yochie buzzed him into the anteroom. She seemed happy to be back at work, her eyes bright, her smile genuine. In gross contrast to Shaul Gold, who appeared a moment later. It had been over a month since Decker had seen the dealer. Gold’s face was worn and drawn. He looked like he had dropped ten pounds.

“I would have thought you had lost your taste for diamonds, Sergeant,” he said.

“Just goes to show you,” Decker said.

“Come,” Gold said. “We’ll talk in my office.”

They walked down the hallway into the once shared office, now taken over completely by Gold. It was sunny and bright, the walls having been newly painted, the windows recently washed of LA’s smog and soot. Gold’s desk was almost entirely devoid of frills, holding mostly the tools of the trade-a microscope, a loupe, a pincer, and a scale. The exception was a sterling-silver double frame holding two pictures-an old one of Dalia Yalom, and a recent one of him sided by the two Yalom boys, hands around each other’s shoulders and waists. Gil looked the same, but Decker noticed that Dov was wearing a yarmulke.

Decker picked the picture up. “Who took this?”

“Orit. At a backyard barbecue. It lacked joy, but life goes on.”

“So you still see the boys?”

“They work here once a week,” Gold said. “After the day is done, I take them to dinner if they want. It’s nice.” Gold pursed his lips. “When the time’s right, I teach them how to cut stones. It’s too bad Arik never did it. He was a top cutter. I’m just a peasant. But I do what I can to keep on the tradition. For Dalia’s sake.”