“All night I’ve been making phone calls.” The man also had a thick accent. “It’s meshuga, Arik taking off like this. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Shaul Gold?” Decker asked.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Gold was irritated. “Who else would I be? Let’s go in the office. Yochevet is trustworthy but she has a big mouth.”

“Not as big as yours,” the receptionist’s amplified voice piped in.

Gold waved her off but she didn’t seem offended. “This way.”

Yochevet buzzed them through. Decker followed Gold down a short hallway into an office as bright as an atrium. Two walls of glass allowing a full view of the action from a thousand feet up. Not a place for an acrophobic. Or a claustrophobic.

Because the office was tiny.

It was set up like a lunch counter. Two stools sat tucked under a black Formica bartop. Gold pulled out a stool and motioned Decker to sit. He went around to the other side and sat as well, behind him a panoramic view of Pershing Square still under construction. At Gold’s right was a brushed-steel vault. Above the safe were TV monitors showing the front entrance as well as the sally port. So far, the coast was clear. Between the TV monitors was a picture of the recently deceased Lubavitcher Rebbe. He wore a black hat that covered his head and a full beard took up most of his face. But it was easy to see the great Rav was smiling in the photo-the kind, crinkly eyes.

Since Arik had been described as anti-religious, Decker wondered if the picture of the rabbi was Gold’s doing. He didn’t seem religious, though. He wasn’t wearing a yarmulke.

Decker’s eyes went back to the counter. On the top was a scale, a scoop, a jeweler’s loupe, and a two-by-two desk calendar, each square marked with appointments and obligations in multicolored inks and pencil. On the fifteenth, spilling over to the sixteenth, sat a heap of loose diamonds.

Decker kept his face flat, but was floored. Thousands of dollars of gems carelessly scattered on an old, marked-up calendar. Gold fingered them gently.

“I’ll finish up later.” In one clean motion, Gold picked up the scoop and swooped the stones off the calendar. He stopped and studied Decker. “Unless you’re interested. I give you a good price.”

Decker smiled. “Some other time.”

Gold said, “Once a salesman…” He poured the diamonds into an envelope and stowed them behind the counter. His features weren’t bad-light, gentle eyes softened a strong chin and a bulbous nose-the kind that comes from genes rather than booze. Gold rubbed his arms. “Sure you’re not interested? It’s a new shipment.”

“Positive,” Decker said. “Do you always leave your diamonds in the open like that?”

Gold’s eyes met Decker’s straight on. “I have a gun under the counter. Someone starts something, I finish it. You want to see my license?”

“Not necessary.”

Gold said, “Besides, you’re the police. If you steal from me, you’re in worse trouble than me.”

“How do you know I’m the police?”

“I saw your ID through the cameras when you showed it to Yochevet. If I don’t like what I see, I don’t buzz you in.” Gold rotated his neck and pointed to the TV monitors. “We’ve got cameras and more cameras. On the outside, on the inside. The system works so you can’t open the outside door and the inside door at the same time. For my protection. Still, everyone here walks around looking over their shoulders.”

“You’ve had incidents?”

“We’ve had robberies. Terrible.” Gold shook his head. “One man was beaten so bad he almost died. Why you think I got a gun? Six years I spent in the Israeli army. One thing it does is make you comfortable with guns. That’s a good thing. When you don’t know what you’re doing, that’s when you screw up.”

“The old man who was beaten,” Decker said. “Did they mug him in the hallway or come into his office?”

“In the hallway. But there have been muggings in both places.”

“Does Arik have a gun?” Decker asked.

“This is a shared office. We share the gun. So far, no need for it, Baruch Hashem.”

“Does Arik have a gun at home?”

Gold was quiet for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. He didn’t want guns around the house because of the boys. Teenage boys can do some very dumb things.”

“His boys ever do anything real dumb?”

Gold shrugged. “I suppose, yes. When I was a teenager, I did dumb things. I’m sure Arik did dumb things, too. That’s why I’m nervous about him. He can be reckless.”

Decker took out his notebook. “Anything different going on in his life as far as you could tell?”

“As far as I can tell, no.” Gold shook his head. “Arik’s Arik. Quick, sharp, fast-thinking, a big pain in the ass.” He ran his hand over his face. “You want to ask me if he has enemies?”

“Does he?” Decker said.

“Arik has many people who hate him. Me? I can’t stand the bastard. He’s reckless, but he’s also stingy. He hoards and hoards! I keep telling him we don’t make money by keeping diamonds, only by selling. But I admit a good thing about Arik. He has a nose for top dollar. Like I say, he is very sharp. He knows when to buy, when to sell.”

“And what do you know?”

“I know how to sell,” Gold said. “Arik and I are good for each other.”

Decker said, “Are you also good for Mrs. Yalom?”

Gold’s eyes narrowed. “You can explain that?”

“Mr. Gold, why is your Lexus parked outside Yalom’s house on an average of two days a week during daylight hours?”

Gold broke into laughter. “You think something naughty is going on between me and Dalia? You have a very dirty mind, Sergeant.”

“Can you answer the question?”

“I’m doing business with my partner,” Gold said. “Real business.”

“You do business with Mr. Yalom at his house?”

“All the time. Like you saw-about two, three days a week.”

“Then why bother with the office?”

“For the clients.”

Gold’s face was unreadable. Decker didn’t buy his story. “Mrs. Yalom doesn’t get in your way?”

“Dalia works. Even if she’s home, I rarely see her. We go into Arik’s office, shut the door…” Gold shrugged. “Certain things are better discussed away from Yochevet.”

“You’re not worried about Dalia hearing things?”

Gold remained stone-faced. “No.”

Six years in the Israeli army. Guy’s a tough cookie. Decker said, “And you haven’t seen or heard from Mr. Yalom in the past two days?”

“Nothing. I’m very concerned. Maybe he got too reckless.” Gold took out a pack of cigarettes. “Do you mind?”

Decker shook his head.

“Yochie hates it.” Gold lit up. “Says I smell up the office. That girl has a big mouth.”

“Why do you keep her?”

“Because she’s good.”

Good in what capacity? Decker said, “Tell me about Mr. Yalom.”

“I told you all I know.”

“That Mr. Yalom is stingy. How stingy could he be, living in a house like that?”

“That’s for Dalia.” Gold blew out smoke. “The house was bought with her money.”

Decker perked up. “Dalia has money?”

Gold nodded. “Her father is a very wealthy diamond dealer in Israel. When she met Arik, he was nothing but a poor stonecutter.”

“I thought his family had money…jewels smuggled out from Europe.”

“Yes, the Yalom family owns a few nice pieces of jewelry. But nothing compared to Mr. Menkovitz.” Gold took a final puff of his smoke, then crushed the butt. “It was Dalia’s father who gave Arik money to invest in diamonds. She set him up.”

“Is it a sore spot with Mr. Yalom?” Decker asked. “His wife setting him up?”

“Mah pitom?” Gold said. “Why should it be a sore spot? Arik has done very well by himself.”

Decker said, “But Dalia still has independent wealth?”

Gold said, “Her father takes care of her.”

Decker now wondered if someone was out to get Dalia. Who would gain from her demise? First, Arik, then her sons. Maybe this was all some messy family affair. He said, “I heard Arik didn’t get along with his sons.”