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Do that.
7
Michael Hollander was fiftyish, bald, florid, and the
proper weight for a man six inches taller. He, Marge,
and Decker made up the juvey and sex detail for the
division. They were referred to jokingly as The Three
Musketeers a title that Hollander had redubbed The
Three Mouseketeers. He smoked a pipe, which was an
inexcusable offense in such close quarters, but laughed
off the complaints by demanding to know who d be
the squadroom s scapegoat if he became civilized.
Discussion closed.
He entered the detectives quarters, poured himself
his ninth cup of coffee of the day, and placed a meaty
hand on Decker s shoulder.
Peter looked up from the phone, excused himself,
and covered the mouthpiece with his palm.
What?
A lady from Jewtown is outside.
Decker finished his call quickly and checked his
watch. They were right on time. Then he remembered
that Hollander had said a lady not ladies. Damn it!
The other one must have chickened out.
65
66 / Faye Kellerman
He got up from his desk, went out to the reception
area, and saw Rina standing in the hallway behind the
half door. She looked as good as he remembered, even
better. Even though her hair was covered, tucked into
a white knitted tam she d taken a little time to put on
some makeup and jewelry. He liked that.
Come on in, he said, opening the latch and leading
her to his desk.
Headquarters were not as she d imagined.
She expected the place to be busy and crowded, but
not so small. Metal utility desks and chairs were
squashed against one another, taking up most of the
floor space. What furniture wasn t metal was scarred,
unfinished wood. A lone rust-bitten table in the corner
housed a small computer. On the rear wall were
wanted posters and floor-to-ceiling prefab shelves full
of blue notebooks marked with various colored dots.
To her left were two small rooms with the doors open
and a map of the division taped carelessly on the wall.
To her right were the coffee urn and its accompanying
paraphernalia, more desks, and another map studded
with multicolored pins. The place was minimally
cooled by fans placed at strategic spots and blowing
full force.
All the detectives were dressed in light-colored short-
sleeved shirts, loosened ties, drab slacks, and scuffed
shoes. Only their shoulder holsters suggested they were
cops. Some of them were on the phone or doing
THE RITUAL BATH / 67
desk work, others were conferring with one another;
all of them looked preoccupied.
Like the decor? one of them shouted, a fat man
smoking a pipe.
Lovely, she said, smiling.
Take a seat, Decker said, pulling up a chair that
obstructed the aisle. His desktop was covered by piles
of papers, a manual typewriter, and a black phone
sporting a panel of flashing lights. What happened to
Mrs. Adler?
Rina lowered her voice. She refused to come down.
I can barely hear you.
Can we use one of those rooms over there?
They re as hot as blazes. Great for sweating out
confessions.
Rina said nothing and squirmed.
I ll tell you what, he said, I ll take my lunch break
early. That way we can get a little privacy.
They got up to leave. The fat detective whistled.
You have any food preferences? Decker asked, start-
ing the Plymouth.
Detective Decker, she hesitated, I can t eat in a
restaurant because the food s not kosher. I brought my
own lunch. She held up a paper bag.
Shit, he thought. Another Big Mac for lunch. No
problem. I ll just run by McDonald s and pick some-
thing up.
68 / Faye Kellerman
I prepared lunch for Mrs. Adler, so I have extra,
she said timidly.
Decker smiled. Okay.
Is there someplace we can eat other than a car?
she asked uncomfortably.
I think that can be arranged.
He drove to a bedraggled park. The grass had been
burned yellow and the sandbox was nothing more
than a pile of gray pebbles, but to one side was a large
shade tree with umbrella-like branches and some
warped wooden benches. A couple of naked Latino
tots ran through a sprinkler jet that was attempt-
ing without visible success to revive a bed of dead
marigolds. The toddlers grandmother sat a few feet
away, knitting as she watched them from the corner
of one eye. Although there was plenty of empty seating
in the shade, the old woman had elected to sit in the
open sun with a bandana over her head, seemingly
impervious to the heat. The temperature was well over
a hundred, the air heavy with smog, but a slight breeze
filtered through the lacy branches, providing some
refuge.
Rina knew it wasn t right for her to be alone with
this man, but she felt compelled to help. She wanted
justice to be done and the monster locked up for so-
ciety s welfare and her own peace of mind.
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