Sanctuary

“The minute VerHauten finds out about competitors, they either buy them out or undersell them. They own the market. What does this have to do with Arik?”

Decker gave a noncommittal shrug. “You said Arik was a hoarder. Maybe he was hoarding too much for VerHauten’s liking.”

Gold grinned. “You know how much inventory we have? Around two million. It seems like a big number, but no one can survive in this business if their inventory drops below five or six hundred thousand. You don’t have stones on hand, buyers find other people. So we put money in stones. You know what VerHauten’s worth?”

“More than two million,” Decker said, dryly.

“Try three to four billion. I don’t think they lose sleep about Arik and me.”

Decker said, “Still, two million dollars is well worth robbing for.”

“Except that nothing’s missing in the vault.” Gold shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Decker said, “Do you know of anyone who might want to shut you and Arik down?”

Gold took out another cigarette. “That’s what worries me. Arik can be reckless and rude in dealing with people. Maybe some dealers would like to shut us down. They know we have the good stones. Not good stones, great stones. I’ve made many good contacts over the years.”

Gold lit up his smoke.

“I’ve got to give Arik credit, too. He has a great eye for stones—cut and uncut. He can tell at a glance what the stone will look like when it’s cut. All those years working as a stonecutter. He learned the trade from his father. Arik’s taken me to Antwerp a few times. He looks at a diamond. To me, it doesn’t look like much. He says, ‘Shaul, this is the one I want.’ Doesn’t have to cut a window in it or anything.”

“Cut a window?”

“Cut a window,” Shaul repeated. “Open the stone. VerHauten sets a certain price for the uncut stone. Nonnegotiable. But what they will let you do is open a small facet so you can look inside and see what you’re buying before you buy it. Arik doesn’t even need to do that. He can smell it.”

“Where is Antwerp?” Decker asked.

“Belgium. It’s where VerHauten distributes its stones. Everyone big goes to Antwerp.”

“Why Antwerp?”

“Why do you go to the supermarket to buy milk? Because it’s where diamonds are.”

Decker held back a smile. “I meant why did VerHauten set up distribution there? Why not in South Africa?”

“VerHauten wants a center in Europe. And Belgium gives them easy laws.” Gold paused. “Sometimes for a special client, Arik goes to Belgium and buys big uncut stones. Mostly we go to Israel and buy cut, mid-sized stones. More diamonds are cut in Israel than anywhere else in the world.”

Gold rested the cigarette in his ashtray.

“Still, I don’t know anyone who would hurt Arik to put us out of business. This whole thing is very strange.”

Decker flipped the cover over his notepad. “Yes, it is.”

Gold ran his hand over his face. “Even with the gun, I’m worried. Because I don’t know who this enemy is.” He looked at Decker. “You keep looking for them?”

“For a while,” Decker said. “But without a body, we can’t justify looking for an extended period of time. The family may have taken off on their own accord.”

He stood and so did Gold. “We’ll keep in touch.”

Decker walked over to the door, then paused. “Mr. Gold, do you know where Yalom might keep his passport?”

Gold was quiet for a moment. “No. Why?”

“If he took off for anywhere international, he’d need his passport.”

“I don’t know about Arik’s passport,” Gold said. “Come. I’ll walk you out.”

Decker realized that Gold was inching him down the hallway. Yalom’s partner had been cooperative, even loquacious at times. But Decker couldn’t shake the feeling that Gold was holding back. He spoke at length about VerHauten, but little about Arik and his business dealings.

They reentered the sally port. Yochie was about to buzz them out. She said, “Uh-oh. You get company, Shaul.”

Decker looked at the outside TV monitor. A Chasid with a white beard. He was wearing a tall black hat and long black coat.

“Shnorrers,” Gold said with resignation. “They don’t leave me alone.”

“No, they don’t,” Decker agreed.

Gold looked at him. “You know about shnorrers?”

Decker nodded. Ostensibly, they collected money for worthy causes. Sometimes the worthy causes were themselves. Since he had married Rina, they had invaded his house with outstretched hands, and always at inconvenient times. But Rina had a soft heart. She always gave them something.

Shaul said, “Open the door, Yochie.”

She complied. The Chasid touched the mezuzah, kissed his hand, then walked inside. But Gold pushed him back out. Decker followed them into the hallway.

Gold said, “Every day, it’s someone else.”

The Chasid started a pitch in a foreign tongue.

“Maspeek.” Gold opened his wallet and took out a twenty. “That’s all I have. Go.”

The shnorrer didn’t budge.

Gold showed the man his empty wallet. “No more kesef. Lech. Mayveen?”

The shnorrer said, “Ani mayveen.” He looked at Decker.

Decker blew out air, then took out a twenty from his wallet and gave it to the man. The shnorrer pocketed the money, muttered some blessing, then moved on to the next mezuzah down the hallway.

11

Even though it was the job, Marge felt like a snoop. Decker had warned her about the feeling. True she had gone through other houses from the rafters to the baseboards, but in those cases, the occupants had been alive. Though Marge had no evidence that the Yaloms were dead, it didn’t look good. Though the paper still came and the mail was still being delivered, the only living things left in the Yalom place were houseplants.

So with key in hand, courtesy of Orit Bar Lulu, Marge plundered through items, bit by bit, with no one standing over her shoulder, nobody protesting her presence, or cussing her out.

They couldn’t have just fallen off the planet!

Within three hours, she had amassed an abbreviated biography of the Yaloms’ lives, had discovered private matter … secrets.