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Authors: Faye Kellerman

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Hershfield looked up at the standing figures. “This is my receptionist’s office. I get my best work done here at six in the
morning when no one’s bothering me… buzzing me every twenty seconds. Of course, that’s her job… to buzz me, and to organize
my professional life. I don’t know why, but I find her desk much more conducive to work. Maybe because it isn’t filled with
my own garbage.”

Gathering up his papers, Hershfield stood, then took out a key ring. He opened an adjoining door. “Come in.”

Good-size place, Decker thought. Not cavernous, but the plate-glass window view opened things up—an endless snapshot of steely,
gelid air and rooftop machinery. The office itself was paneled in warm red mahogany. Sharing the wall space with the abstract
oils were lots
of diplomas and certificates. He had a small bookcase in back of his desk, the shelves holding just as many Hebrew books as
tomes on American jurisprudence. Of course, the firm had its own law library, so the references he had were the ones he probably
used the most. His desk was rosewood and brass, his desk chair tufted oxblood leather. Two client chairs sat opposite the
desk, upholstered in a subtle hunter green and maroon floral. In the middle of the room sat a sofa in the same pattern and
two more client chairs, the arrangements separated by a sleek rosewood coffee table framed in brass. A corner leather wing
chair rounded out the atmosphere. The parquet wood floor was almost entirely covered by a fringed, ornate Persian rug.

There was a knock at his door. Hershfield answered it, and Rina came in. She had applied some fresh makeup. She was wearing
a navy sweater over a navy skirt, and black boots. Hannah was in her arms.

“And who is this
motek
?” Hershfield asked.

“This is Hannah.” Rina shifted the girl in her arms. “You wouldn’t have any orange juice on you, would you?”

“I’d have anything you want.” He buzzed Britta. The brunette came in holding a pencil. “Could you run to Harry’s?”

“No, I can’t run. But I can walk.”

Hershfield ignored her. He turned to Hannah. “What can I get you,
kleinkind
?”

“Are you hungry, sweetie?” Rina said to her daughter.

“No, just
grumpy
.”

“But maybe you’d be less grumpy if you ate.” Rina looked at Britta. “Maybe I should come with you.”

“Sure,” Britta said. “We’ve already done our bathroom bonding. Would any of you gentlemen like something?”

“Coffee,” Decker said.

“I’ll go along with that,” Jonathan said.

“Mr. Hershfield?”

“If it isn’t too much work,” the lawyer answered.

“That’s what you’re paying me for, Mr. H.”

The females left.

The man was all folksy and polite. In a courtroom, he was part Tasmanian devil /part wolverine. Anyone who came up against
him
got bit. Decker stuck out his hand. “We haven’t met formally, Mr. Hershfield. I’m Peter Decker.”

“The Homicide detective I told you about,” Jonathan said.

“Actually, you’re selling him short, Rabbi Levine. The lieutenant here is actually in charge of the detectives’ division.
Where do you work? Somewhere in the San Fernando Valley?”

“I see you’ve done your homework.”

“I’m nothing if not compulsive.”

“My division is in the West Valley—Devonshire. Do you know L.A.?”

“I have a brother in Beverly Hills. Corporate law. He’s got a beautiful house. It’s got an entry hall that you could skate
in. My brother’s very successful.”

“It must run in the family,” Decker said.

“Me?” Hershfield made a face. “I’m just a bulldog who believes in due process. Sit down, gentlemen.”

The gentlemen sat.

Hershfield smiled at Decker. “So hiring counsel was your idea. I’m not surprised. You know what the police are capable of.”

Decker smiled back.

Hershfield said, “Are you related to the victim?”

“No.”

“We’re brothers.” Jonathan pointed to Decker, then to himself. “Half brothers. The victim was my brother-in-law.”

“I’m just debating how much we should talk in front of him,” Hershfield said.

“Technically, I can be subpoenaed and made to testify because I’m not a family member,” Decker said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jonathan said, “because the family’s not involved. I’m sure of it.”

“I appreciate your loyalty, Rabbi, but I think your brother has a point.” Hershfield shrugged. “Look, Lieutenant Decker told
you to call me because he thinks you might have a little problem. And you’re here because you don’t want a big problem. Very
smart. So talk to me, gentlemen. What did you have in mind, Lieutenant, when you asked the rabbi to call me?”

“First I was thinking about contacting the police to see if I can get anything specific out of the investigation. Sometimes
agencies are open, sometimes they’re protective. If I get some resistance, it would be nice to have a New Yorker to do some
legal pushing.”

“If need be, I suppose that could be arranged.”

“I have a feeling you could arrange anything, Mr. Hershfield.”

“Ah, Lieutenant. You make me blush.”

Britta returned holding a tray of coffee, creamer, and packets of sugar substitute. Rina was holding Hannah’s hand and a tray
with bagels and cream cheese. The two women set the food down on Hershfield’s coffee table. Rina looked at the men. “Hannaleh,
maybe we’ll eat this outside in the secretary’s office.”

“Don’t leave on our account,” Hershfield said.

“Of course not. It’s just better all around. That way, we won’t disturb anyone.”

“You know, there’s a Disney store on Fifth Avenue around Fifty-fifth.”

“I’m sure there is, but I doubt if it’s open at seven.”

“A very good point.”

“Come eat next to me,” Britta said. “Alma’s always late anyway.”

“She is?” Hershfield said.

Britta whispered, “It’s that time of life.” She nodded, then took some bagels and cream cheese. “See you later.”

As soon as the door closed, Hershfield spoke to Jonathan. “So why don’t you tell me what happened from your family’s perspective?
The lieutenant and I can fill in details from the police.”

Jonathan gave Hershfield a brief recap. Way too brief, Decker thought. Immediately, Hershfield went after him. “So you have
no theory as to what happened?”

“None.”

“Then something’s missing.” He made a face. “And your brother-in-law. Did he have any vices?”

Jonathan squirmed.

“Drugs,” Decker told him.

“Ah.”

Jonathan said, “But he’d been sober for a while.”

“What kind of drugs?”

Jonathan sighed. “Mainly cocaine.”

“Freebase?”

“Blow,” Decker said.

“Expensive,” Hershfield said. “Where did he get the money?”

“The family has a business,” Decker said.

“Yes, I know. Electronic stores,” Hershfield said. “And, Rabbi, you think the family gave him money to waste on blow?”

Jonathan sighed. “I’m sure they helped him out of a couple of tight spots.”

“Or he helped himself,” Decker offered. “He worked in the family business.”

“He only started working after he was sober,” Jonathan countered, defending him.

“Any criminal record?” Hershfield asked.

“One arrest.”

Decker looked at his half brother. “That must have slipped your mind.”

“Possession?” Hershfield asked.

Jonathan squirmed. “Soliciting an undercover police officer.”

“Jon, it would have been nice if you’d told me that over the phone.”

“I didn’t think it was relevant. It happened ten years ago, right after his divorce.”

“But it does show what kind of man he was—”

“Ten years ago, Akiva.”

“Your brother is right,” Hershfield said. “At the moment, everything is important.”

“What are you thinking about, Mr. Hershfield?” Jonathan said. “That Ephraim had a relapse of his drug use? That the setup
was a drug buy gone haywire?”

“Is that what it seems to you?”

Jonathan didn’t answer.

Decker said, “You left out a couple parts, Jonathan. Ephraim was found naked.”

“They could have stripped him,” Jonathan said.

“That’s always a possibility,” Hershfield answered. “Then there is the other possibility.”

No one spoke.

“Yes, I would say that’s important,” Hershfield said. “Especially since he was supposed to be baby-sitting his fifteen-year-old
niece.”

“My wife had previously asked Shayndie if any funny business was going on. She adamantly denied it.”

Neither Decker nor Hershfield answered.

Jonathan stammered, “Yes, of course, it’s a possibility that she was lying—or covering for him. But how would murder be part
of that picture?”

Decker said, “Maybe he had been threatening her, Jonathan. Maybe she had had enough.” He looked pointedly at Hershfield. “In
which case, she’ll be needing a very good defense lawyer.”

“Then why go willingly with him to the art exhibit, Akiva?” Jonathan said. “Believe me, Shayndie is an outspoken girl. If
he was molesting her, she would have said something.”

“Not always, Jonathan. Especially if she was in love with him.”

Jonathan bristled. “At this point, it’s all speculation.”

Decker put a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t mean to upset you, Jon. But if I’m thinking of these kinds of questions, and Mr.
Hershfield is thinking about these types of questions, I’m sure the New York Police are thinking the same thing.”

“Now that is true,” Hershfield said.

Jonathan seemed to wilt. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Hershfield said, “I’m intrigued about this relationship—uncle, niece. It is unusual, especially in that community where postpubescent
girls are not allowed to be with single men except their fathers. Why do you think the girl’s parents allowed such a relationship
to flourish?”

Jonathan went on to explain Shayndie’s problems. “Ephraim seemed to have a special rapport with her. I never saw anything
inappropriate.”

“How much time did you and your wife spend with your niece?”

“She’d come over for dinner on Sundays… spend an occasional
Shabbat
, although Chaim wasn’t wild about that. He was often vocal in his objection. We’re Conservative Jews, and my brother’s Chasidic.”

“So to him, we’re all goyim.”

“Probably,” Jonathan admitted.

“And your brother-in-law didn’t like your entertaining his daughter because you’re Conservative. But he didn’t object to his
unmarried, drug-addicted brother spending time with her?” He turned to Decker. “What am I missing?”

Decker shrugged. “You’re more in the loop than I am.”

Hershfield said, “You said that you and your wife had questioned Shayndie about her relationship with her uncle, your wife’s
brother. Why?”

“Just to… make sure.”

“So there was no…precipitating factor that led up to the questioning?”

“No, not at all. Raisie and I discussed the relationship, and we both decided that the girl should be talked to. You know
as well as I do that in that community, sex is taboo.”

“So is an uncle-niece liaison.
Halachacally
, it’s equivalent to incest.”

“As far as I know, he wasn’t molesting her.”

“Let’s switch gears for a moment,” Hershfield said. “You told me that Chaim works with his father in the business. What about
Ephraim? What did he do other than dabble in drugs?”

“Like I said, he’d been sober for over two years,” Jonathan insisted.

“All right. Have it your way. And he worked in the family business with his father and brother.”

“Yes.”

“Alongside Chaim?”

“Chaim’s been in the business for twenty years, so he has seniority naturally. Ephraim knew that.”

“So there haven’t been any problems?”

“Not that I know of. From my perspective, Papa was thrilled that his son finally showed some interest in family affairs.”

“All right. And what about the business? Is it solvent?”

“Akiva asked the same questions. Sure, it’s been going through some rough times. Everyone’s on edge and the economy isn’t
the greatest. But yes, as far as I know, the stores are solvent.”

“Any bad loans?” Decker asked.

“Not that I know of.”

“Any bad investments?”

“You’d be much better off asking Chaim.”

“I will do that,” answered Decker. “And I guarantee you, so will the police.”

“Why would the murder have anything to do with the business? The stores have always run on a small profit margin. There’s
nothing there to get excited about.”

“I’m sure he’s just trying to get the lay of the land,” Hershfield said. “If I can talk frankly for a moment, Rabbi, you know
that the Chasidim in your brother’s area have been in trouble for embezzling public-school funds and transferring the money
to the local yeshivas. Is either of your brothers-in-law active in local politics?”

“Not that I know. They’re shleppers, Mr. Hershfield. They make their money by dint of hard work.”

“Two years ago, Yosi Stern was indicted on drug-sales charges. I wasn’t his lawyer. If I had been, he wouldn’t be upstate
right now. He used Chasidim to smuggle in ecstasy from Holland, then laundered the drug money through local yeshivas and businesses
of the Chasidim. What would you know about that?”

“Nothing,” Jonathan said.

“And your wife’s family?”

“My father-in-law would never permit it.” Jonathan was adamant. “He’s a camp survivor. He kept his wits about him the entire
time by an unwavering trust in God. He’s not only a religious man, but a good man.”

“The two don’t always go hand in hand,” Decker said.

Hershfield got up and made himself some coffee. “Let’s take a break. Bagels, anyone?”

Jonathan dropped his head into his hands, but Decker stood up. “I’m hungry.” He smeared some cream cheese over a poppy seed
bagel. “Anyplace to wash?”

Hershfield popped a panel door and a wet bar appeared. He held up a
becher
—a traditional washing cup. “I am fully prepared.”

Decker washed and ate, cajoling Jonathan to do the same. Fifteen minutes later, after saying the grace over bread, Hershfield
sat back in his desk chair. He was all business.

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