“I’ll have to stay with you as a witness.” Marie attempted meaningful eye contact. “To make sure that nothing’s tampered with. This procedure is still very irregular.”

Marge said, “Yes, I’m sure most of your clients don’t wind up victims of double homicides.”

Marie winced.

Decker asked, “Did you know the Yaloms personally?”

“I wasn’t their personal banker, no. But I knew them by name.”

“Who used the box more?” Marge asked. “Him or her?”

“Him,” Marie said. “Mr. Yalom. She used it rarely, if at all. But I knew her from the teller lines. Often she’d ask if we could process out-of-state checks for immediate clearance.”

“And?” Marge asked.

“We complied. Their assets were very good and we considered them valued clients.”

“What country were the checks from?” Decker asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“How about Israel?” Decker stated.

“Yes, I think they were from Israel.” Marie bit her lip. “This is just awful!”

“Yes it is,” Decker said. “Thanks, Marie. Can you pull Mr. Yalom’s safe-deposit-box signature card for me now?”

Marie liberated her key ring from her wrist and opened a drawer. “I can’t believe…it’s just terri-ah, here’s the signature card.”

Marie informed them that they’d have to sign in for the record. After the bank’s files appeared to be in proper order-approved by two of Marie’s superiors-she finally escorted the detectives into the vault, closing the metal grate behind them. It wasn’t the biggest vault Decker had ever seen, but it seemed to contain twenty or thirty oversized boxes. Marie pointed to an eight-by-ten box on the top row. Marge handed Marie the key found on Arik’s body. The bank manager had to stretch to reach the door to the box, her skirt riding up on her rear. Even on her tiptoes, she barely managed to insert both keys in the slots. She lowered her heels to the ground and pulled down her skirt.

“Ah, I remember this one now. My aerobic body stretch.”

“Would you like some help?” Marge asked.

“I can manage, thank you.” Again, on her tiptoes, Marie managed to rotate both keys at the same time. The door opened.

Decker grinned and so did Marge. She whispered that sometimes you get lucky. Again Marie stretched, attempting to retrieve the box.

“Why don’t you let me get it down, Marie. I’m a bit taller.” Decker raised a gorilla arm and, with one hand, brought the box down, hefting its contents.

“Heavy?” Marge asked.

“Not too bad.” Decker handed it to her.

Marie opened the vault grate. “Let’s go to a room. Someone is waiting to enter the vault and can’t as long as we’re here.”

She took them into a six-foot-square private room, a fan kicking in when Marie closed the door and turned on the light. It contained a built-in desk and acoustical ceiling tiles for noise absorption. Marge put the box down and opened the lid.

Stuffed with papers-piles crammed upon piles. Marge pulled a wad off the top, unfolded the first piece of paper and smoothed its wrinkled body out on the desk.

Correspondence-the letterhead stating it was from The VerHauten Company, Inc. Dated over two years ago. Marge read the contents, Decker peering over her shoulder.

Dear Mr. Yalom:

Kindly note that all future correspondence shall be conducted through our attorneys: Kronig and Dekker, Inc. Any future inquiries or business you may have with The VerHauten Company should be forwarded to them.

Sincerely,

Kate Milligan

Senior Vice-President,

Overseas Marketing and Sales

“I like the name of the law firm,” Marge said.

Decker smiled. “Yeah, Dekker spelled with double K is a Dutch name.”

“Who’s VerHauten?” Marge asked.

“The largest diamond company in the world. About four billion’s worth of assets.”

Marie whistled. Decker had forgotten about her. He held up a stack of rumpled papers. “You know, Marie, to go through this mess thoroughly…” He plopped the papers on the built-in desk. “It’s going to take an awfully long time.”

“I’ve been instructed to wait with you.”

“I bet your boss said wait for us, not wait with us.” Decker gave her a big smile. “I can’t imagine they’d want to tie up your valuable time, having you just sit back and twiddle your thumbs.”

“Yeah, they know how long a proper investigation can take,” Marge chimed in. “It’s hours of tedium and you know how these corporate types can be. Time is money.”

Decker opened the door. “We’ll call you when we’re done. Thanks for all your help.”

With a dubious look, Marie didn’t budge.

Decker let out a small laugh and held out his hands. “Hey, you can stay if you want. I, for one, certainly don’t object to the scenery.”

Marie lowered her head and stifled a smile. “I think I’m being conned.”

“By moi?” Decker said. “Heaven forbid.” He bowed and showed her the door. “Thanks for your cooperation.”

Marie paused, shook her head, then left with a smile on her face.

Marge whispered, “If some guy pulled an aw shucks stunt like that on me, I’d pop him.”

“Dunn, you would have made a piss-poor Southern belle.” Decker examined the next bit of mail. “Take a look at this, Margie. VerHauten again.”

Dated before the first piece of correspondence, the letter was single-spaced, the language and legalese complex and long-winded. Decker read it to himself. Marge scanned it silently as well, then began reading snippets out loud.

“Disputed certificate of ownership…unauthorized land parcels…international trade violations…” Marge raised a brow. “Looks like our boy Yalom was taking on the big boys.”

“To hear Gold talk, Yalom couldn’t compete. But damned if he couldn’t threaten.”

“And without benefit of an attorney.”

“That’s not as unusual as you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is a certain tiny percentage of the population that thrives on sticking it to major corporations. They usually file the motions themselves and become real gnats…gadflies. They wear the corporations down. Often the companies will settle just to get these nutcases off their backs.”

“You think Yalom was a nutcase?”

“From what we’ve heard, Yalom sounded like a pretty independent thinker. I can see him trying to handle something by himself. What I can’t understand is why a VerHauten representative answered Yalom personally in the first place. Someone should have smelled problem with a capital P. The complaint should have immediately gone to the corporation’s lawyers.”

“You’re the attorney,” Marge said. “Use your three years of night school and tell us why.”

Decker smiled. “Offhand, I’d say someone was attempting to manage Yalom with kid gloves. They didn’t want the lawyers involved right away because they didn’t want him to freak.”

“Meaning Yalom probably had something the corporation wanted. And VerHauten was attempting to keep the guy calm until they could figure out how to get it.”

Decker nodded. “You just summed up my thoughts.”

“So what was VerHauten after?”

Decker shrugged. “Let’s keep reading.”

Marge said, “Whatever it was, according to this letter, VerHauten eventually did hand the problem over to its lawyers. I wonder if eventually Yalom engaged an attorney of his own.”

Decker took out another piece of paper from the stack and unfolded it-a preprinted certificate. It looked to be a deed of trust for land in Angola. He showed it to Marge.

She said, “VerHauten wrote about ‘unauthorized land parcels.’ This could be the disputed certificate of ownership.”

“It could be one of many.”

“So Yalom was still investing in Africa. Do you have any idea where Angola is in relationship to South Africa?”

“Northwest,” Decker said. “The two countries are separated by Botswana and Namibia. I looked at a map of Africa after you found Yalom’s passport.”

“Does Angola have diamond mines?”

“I don’t know,” Decker said. “But the countries are contiguous. They probably have similar terrain.”