The Theory of Death (30 page)

Mallon bit her bottom lip. “Wow. Uh, I mean sorry. Did I just stick my foot in my mouth?”

“Not at all. I had a nice childhood. Our duplex was Spanish style with red roof tiles and big picture windows with lots of stained glass inserts called accidentals. It had beautiful old wood floors and original built-ins but no air-conditioning. In the summer, we sweltered, especially since we were on the top floor and heat rises. Eventually my uncle died and the place was sold, and by that time my father was doing well and we moved into a beautiful house in the swanky area of Beverly Hills when I was in my senior year of high school. By that time, I had turned so religious that I eschewed anything material, dumb cluck that I was. Most kids have pictures of rock stars on their walls. I had rabbis. It drove my parents nuts, which I suppose was the point.”

“What did your father do?” Mallon asked.

“He owned a glass installation company. He was one of the first dealers in L.A. to move to all-glass shower enclosures. My poor papa. He worked incredibly long hours. I rarely saw him except on Saturday morning when we went to synagogue. He looked so handsome, all dressed up.” Her eyes started watering.

“Has he passed?” Mallon paused. “Too personal?”

“No, he’s still alive but not in the best of health. But he is ninety-six. My mother, who is ninety-four, is still as lucid as they come, much to Detective Decker’s dismay.”

“What are you talking about? It’s wonderful that she’s so with it.”

“She’s still telling him how to run his life.”

Decker laughed. “That’s true.”

“Do you see them often?”

“Well, we moved to the East Coast and they moved to Florida, so we actually see them and the detective’s mother a lot more now that we’re all in the same time zone.”

“Nice.” Mallon turned quiet.

Decker had finally wended his way into the East Village. He stopped in front of one of NYU’s scattered buildings, a purple flag waving in the winter breeze. Even on a Sunday with chilly temperatures, students took up Washington Square Park and its environs. Manhattan was a city in perpetual motion.

“I don’t know where the library is, Mallon,” Decker told her, “but if you ask, I’m sure someone will help you out.”

“This is fine.” Her voice had turned very quiet. “Thanks.” She got out and closed the door.

“Wanna sit up front?” Decker asked his wife.

“Absolutely.” Rina got out of the car and sat in the passenger’s seat.

“I miss having you up here. I miss the conversations that we have when we take these long drives.”

“Thank you. I do, too.”

Decker scooted the car back into traffic and headed to Brooklyn. “What do you make of her?”

“Mallon? Another wounded animal. You want to hear a pronouncement?”

“Lay it on me.”

“I think that she’d be perfect for Tyler provided that she isn’t a suspect in anything.”

Decker laughed. “That’s still not a closed book.”

“Yes, I know. Do you really suspect her or are you just saying that to cover your bases?”

“I don’t know, Rina. Until we get into Belfort’s computer, I have to be psychologically prepared for anything. If the tech doesn’t crack it by this weekend, I’m just going to get the warrants to get the e-mail information from the server … servers. She used a lot of them.”

“A different server for a different purpose?”

“My thoughts, too. She was wearing a lot of hats and probably one of them got her killed. Anyway, enough about my ignorance. What do you and Rachel and Lily have planned?”

“Actually, it worked out perfectly. Rachel has to go to work at the hospital until five, and I’m going to babysit.”

“Meaning you’re going to be exhausted.”

“Lily is in pre-preschool. I’m going to pick her up in an hour. Rachel has left me a list of suggestions for both food and activities. I know how to get to the park. I know how to get to the JCC children’s center, plus Lily still naps at around two. So I’m covered.”

“I don’t think this interview will take all that long. I could meet you at their apartment at around two.”

“Great but call first. Never wake a sleeping toddler.”

“I thought it was a sleeping lion.”

“One and the same.”

RYAN BELFORT HAD
made his home near the waterfront in a posh condo that sat above a Starbucks, a tea shop and an organic vegan restaurant that boasted a raw-food health bar, which Decker interpreted as uncooked vegetables. The area was lively, the streets were packed, and parking was more of a concept than a reality. The closest spot was five blocks away, but the sun had managed to peek through the clouds and there was at least promise of a better day ahead.

The building was six stories with Belfort’s unit on floor three. The man who answered the door was indeed the same guy in the pictures at Katrina’s house: good-looking and in his thirties, tall with broad shoulders, blue eyes, and tawny colored hair. He was dressed in sweats and socks, and while he didn’t exactly welcome Decker with open arms, Ryan allowed him past the threshold, which was enough in Decker’s book. The living room was tidy and spare. Apparently neatness ran in the family. Ryan plopped onto a celadon-green couch and slapped his hands over his face in a dry wash. Then he looked up.

“Any news?”

“Not yet. I’m having her computer looked into. That should tell us something, maybe lead us in the right direction.”

“Okay.” Belfort pointed to a chair and Decker sat down. “So why the visit if nothing’s new?”

“I wanted to offer my condolences in person. And I’m also wondering if there’s
anything
you might be able to remember about Katrina that might help me. Sometimes the smallest thing turns out to be big.”

“Nothing more than I told you over the phone.”

“Tell me about your sister,” Decker said. “What was she like? What would you want her legacy to be?”

“Interesting question.” He sighed. “She was always in my corner. We got along great.”

“Protective?”

“In a way that made you stick up for yourself. She … enabled others. That’s what she was … an enabler but in a good way.”

“Positive outlook?”

“Yes.”

“How’d she get along with others growing up?”

“She had friends if that’s what you mean.”

“Life of the party?”

“I wouldn’t say that. But I never remember her complaining about her social life.”

“Boyfriends?”

“Nothing serious that I remember. She was always pretty, so she could be choosy.” A long pause. “She was good with guys … with my friends, for sure. They’d talk about sports and cars and she’d join in like she was one of them. She was easy to talk to—the kind of girl you can take out for a beer. She could converse on almost any subject.”

“Any specific topics that
she
liked to talk about?”

Belfort gave the question some thought. “You know, because she was such a math person, she rarely talked about what
she
was doing. Mostly it centered around what you were doing. Even in adulthood, when we got together, if we weren’t gossiping about old friends, we talked about my work, not hers.”

“But she felt close enough to you to confide that she was having an affair with a married man. She felt close enough to tell you his name.”

Belfort winced. “Not her finest moment, but it wasn’t serious. I only found out about it because I came down to visit her on her birthday and there was this big bouquet of expensive flowers that just overwhelmed her apartment. She told me it was from a friend, and when I started to tease her, she told me it wasn’t at all serious. He was just someone that was convenient. And besides, he was married—which she said worked out well for both of them.”

“Big bouquet of flowers. Maybe he was more serious than she was.”

He shook his head and furrowed his brow. “Surely you don’t think he hurt her. It ended over two years ago.”

“You told us the name, so we checked him out. Jason Logan moved to California a year ago and is an associate professor at Pepperdine in Malibu. He lives a block from the beach and he claims he hasn’t left the West Coast in over three months. His last trip was to Hawaii with the family in November. I have no reason to doubt him.”

“Well, like I said, she never mentioned having problems with him.”

“Unfortunately, she must have been having problems with someone.”

“You don’t think it was an accident? Her death? You never told me the specifics.”

“Her death wasn’t accidental. That’s a definite. Suicide? Perhaps. More likely someone was trying to make it look like a suicide.”

“How? A fake note? Pills by her side? A gun in her hand?”

“A and C. It was a slapped-together job, Mr. Belfort. Something that wasn’t well thought out.”

“Oh dear God!” He shook his head. “Well, she never said anything to me about problems with anyone. So whoever it was, she might not have perceived that person as a serious threat.”

“I agree with you there.”

Belfort blew out air. “The whole thing is so unreal. I just can’t believe she’s gone. One minute she’s in my life, and then poof. She had years in front of her, things to accomplish.” His eyes watered. “It isn’t fair. You must see that all the time. How unfair life is.”

“I do,” Decker said. “And it’s frustrating.”

“How often do you solve these things to your satisfaction?”

“Good question,” Decker said. “I’m still at it. So I guess I get enough to keep me going.”

“Do you think you’ll find my sister’s killer?”

“It wasn’t a random murder. It just may take time to button everything down, but I’ll get an arrest. I’m confident of it. Greenbury is a small town. There are only so many places where people can hide.”

“So you’re pretty sure it was someone she knew.”

“I’m pretty certain, yes.”

“I can’t picture her making anyone that mad. It’s so unfair.”

“Yes, it is. And I’m sorry about that. I can’t do anything about the unfairness, Mr. Belfort. Hopefully, I can do something about the justice.”

T
HERE WERE THIRTEEN
for dinner including the grandchildren: Cindy, Koby, and the twins, Rachel, Sammy, and Lily plus the couples—Jacob and Ilana, Hannah and Rafy, and Gabe and Yasmine. The majority of the conversation happened between the kids, while Rina and Decker entertained the grandchildren. The twins, Akiva and Aaron, were now six and the size of ten-year-olds. The boys could read a little: mostly statistics from basketball cards.

“I see you’re training them early,” Decker said.

Koby said, “They’re on a team with eight-year-olds.”

Rina furrowed her brow. “It’s not too much for them?”

“They’re the tallest on the team and the fastest runners.”

“They seem to enjoy it,” Cindy said.

The pride was evident. Decker had the height but never the speed. Football had been his thing.

Hannah said, “If you have the talent, you should start early. Look at Gabe. How old were you when you first started playing?”

“Two, but I lost my childhood.” Gabe thought a moment. “Actually, that wasn’t because of the piano. My parents are two of the most childish people on the face of the earth. Someone had to be the adult. I’ll tell you this much. Good scholarship potential for them—smart, athletic—”

“And they’re black,” Koby said. When everyone stared at him, he shrugged. “True is true.”

“It’s a little early to start planning their lives.” Rina was holding Lily on her lap, feeding her chicken soup.

“We already made out a list of colleges,” Koby said. “Penn has a very good team for an Ivy school.”

“He’s just kidding,” Cindy said.

“No, I’m not,” Koby said.

“No, he’s not kidding,” Cindy admitted.

“Well, Lily’s going to have to make it on her brains,” Sammy said. “She’s the shortest kid in pre-preschool.”

“She’s two.” Jacob lectured his brother. “A lot can change.”

“You guys are rushing everything,” Decker said. “Take your time. Enjoy them while they’re still manageable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sammy said. “Is that how you felt when we were all young?”

“Probably not.”

And so the conversation went, ebbing and flowing with a lot of laughter in between. The meal lasted over two hours, and would have probably gone on longer but Decker glanced at his watch and asked for the check. When it came, he reached for it, but Jacob got to it first.

“It’s on us.”

“We’re taking you out,” Hannah said.

“Are you sure?” Decker said.

“Decided before we all sat down,” Koby told him.

“It’s our treat,” Sammy said.

“No need for that.” But Decker had already put away his wallet.

“Thank you. The treat was unexpected and unnecessary, but very nice,” Rina said.

“The way we figure,” Jacob said, “is that you’ve taken care of us for all this time. Now it’s time for you to take care of you.”

“I take care of me?” Decker was confused. “Does that mean I pay for my own dinner?”

“No, of course we’ll pay,” Sammy said.

“You can pay tip if you want,” Jacob said.

“I knew there was a catch.”

Gabe laughed. “He’s kidding.”

“No, he’s not,” Ilana said.

“I’ll pay tip,” Gabe said. “I just got a paycheck from my agent.”

“Large?” Jacob asked.

“Substantive.”

“You pay tip.”

“Nonsense, we’re all going to split the tip,” Sammy said. “This is a joint venture.”

Jacob said, “How much do you want to leave for tip?”

At that point, Decker stood up. “I hate to eat and run, guys, but we’ve got a long ride back.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sammy said.

Yasmine said, “We should leave twenty percent.”

Rina handed Lily back to Rachel. “At least twenty percent. There were a lot of us.”

There were kisses and the good-byes, and the kids were still figuring out each one’s share as Decker and Rina walked out the door.

She said, “That was nice.”

“It was.” Decker paused. “It’s good to have a little fresh air. It was pretty stuffy inside.”

“You have a headache? It was also a little noisy inside.”

“A
little
noisy?”