“Tell me if you have problems understanding my questions.”

Tziril nodded.

“And tell your husband he can talk, too.”

Moshe looked up and spoke in Hebrew. Decker glanced at Rina and waited.

“He said he has nothing to offer, but you have a lot of explaining to do.”

The old man spoke again. Tziril shushed him, but Rina translated anyway.

“He wants to know what’s holding up the body?”

“Don’t pay him attention,” Tziril said.

“No!” the old man replied. “You pay me attention!”

Decker said, “Tell him I’m sorry. We’re moving as quickly as we can but America has a terrible bureaucracy.”

Rina translated. The old man responded.

“He said it couldn’t possibly be as bad as Israel’s and even Israel has the decency to release a body for burial.”

Decker said, “Tell him I hope it’s soon.”

Moshe Yalom snorted and spoke under his breath. Rina couldn’t make out his words. It didn’t matter. Decker caught the essence by the tone of the voice.

He said, “Mrs. Yalom, I wish I spoke Hebrew. Then I could tell you in your language-your lashon-how sorry I am.”

Tziril’s eyes met his. She didn’t speak, she didn’t cry. Then she said, “Thank you for…” She shook her head and muttered in Hebrew. “I don’t know the word in English.”

“Sympathies,” Rina translated.

“Thank you for sympathies,” Tziril completed her sentence.

“They are heartfelt.” Decker put his hand to his chest. “Lev.”

“I understand,” Tziril said.

“I am in charge of your son’s investigation, Mrs. Yalom,” Decker said. “I have reason to believe…” He stopped himself. Stop sounding like TV and get to the point. “Your grandsons are missing. Do you know where they are?”

Tziril didn’t answer.

“Do you understand my question?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“I need to find them, Mrs. Yalom,” Decker said. “I think they could be in danger.”

Tziril looked up, then down. “I don’t know where they are. Emes, I don’t know.”

Decker studied her face. “But they were here, weren’t they?”

Again, the woman’s eyes scanned the room until they glided across her husband’s face. He moved his brows almost imperceptibly.

Decker said, “I came a long way, Mrs. Yalom, just to warn…to help the boys.”

“They are…”

Decker waited on the edge of his folding chair. But Tziril was silent. He said, “I really, really do think that something bad could happen to them. I need to find them. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“They are…here…somewhere…in Israel. But I don’t know where.”

Moshe Yalom snorted again. As much as Decker wanted to explain that he was on their side, he didn’t have time. To Tziril he said, “Can you take a guess and tell me where they might be?”

Tziril looked confused. Rina translated.

“I don’t have guess,” Tziril said.

Decker bit back frustration. “But they were here. In this house.”

“They were never here,” Tziril insisted.

The old man said, “No, boys not here. Why you say boys dangerous here in Israel? Boys dangerous in America. Everytink dangerous in America.” He picked up his glass of tea and muttered. Decker made out the words Sodom and Gomorrah.

Tziril said, “I don’t know where are my grandsons.”

“Then how do you know they’re in Israel?” Decker pressed.

Tziril held her throat. Decker remembered Orit making the same gesture. She blurted out, “They called me. To tell me…” Tears began to pour down her cheeks. She started speaking Hebrew through choked sobs. Rina listened, nodding at intervals.

Decker waited, restrained himself from tapping his pencil against his pad. Finally, Rina spoke. “They called the house a couple of days after the…the murder.”

Decker started writing. “Go on.”

“They said they were very frightened. They said they had to go into hiding, that people were after them.”

“Which people?” Decker asked.

“They didn’t say,” Tziril responded. “I asked but they don’t tell me.”

Rina went on. “They told Mrs. Yalom that policemen might come and ask them-the grandparents-questions. Lots and lots of questions.”

Decker wrote, then looked up. “Ask her…as diplomatically as possible…whether…” He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand over his face. “I’m attempting to inquire as to why the boys were perturbed.”

“You want to know, did they do it or didn’t they?” Rina said.

“Exactly. It’s possible she’s going to mistake my professional intentions for something nefarious and accusatory.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Tziril said.

Decker paused. Honesty is the best policy…sometimes. He turned to Tziril. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask you unpleasant questions.”

“Ani mayveenah-I understand. What?”

“Did they say why they were scared? Why the police might come and ask you two questions?”

Tziril said, “You be scared, too, if your parents were killed.”

“Yes, I’d be scared,” Decker said. “Especially if I killed them.”

Tziril’s mouth dropped open.

“I’m sorry, but I need to ask-”

“You are a terrible, terrible man!” the old woman stood up from the uncushioned couch and wagged her finger, drool escaping from the corner of her mouth. “You should be shamed. You…you…”

Rina spoke quickly in Hebrew. Whatever she said seemed to have a palliative effect. Tziril, though fuming, nodded briskly. After a minute of silence, she turned to Decker. “I am sorry.”

“It’s all right. I underst-”

“You’re not a terrible man. But your job makes you ask terrible questions.”

Decker agreed with her.

Tziril looked him in the eye. “They were scared because someone killed their parents. They were scared for theirselfs.”

“They said specifically that someone else killed their parents?”

Tziril spoke in Hebrew. Rina said, “She said they sounded too frightened to make much sense.”

Tziril spoke again.

“She-Mrs. Yalom-asked the boys where they were. They wouldn’t say.”

“Which one did she talk to?” Decker asked.

“Both,” Tziril answered. “They talk to me for five minutes maybe. They told me they are alive and in Israel. I tried to find out where are they. But they spoke too fast. They said they will call me later. But they don’t…didn’t.” The tears came back. “I’m very frightened. Maybe something happened to them.”

Decker said, “Has anyone else been here? Anyone else asked you questions about your grandsons?”

“No. Just you. I only said I would talk to you because Oritie said you were working hard. She said I need to answer your questions. If she didn’t tell me, I would not talk to you. My grandsons were very frightened. I don’t know who I trust.”

“You’re very smart,” Decker said. “So you haven’t talked to anyone?”

“Just you.”

“And the boys didn’t say where they were?”

Tziril shook her head. “I wish I just knew they were live. If I knew, I wouldn’t…” She bit her knuckle and wiped away tears.

Decker said, “We’re on the same side, Mrs. Yalom. We want the same things.”

Again, she held her hand to her throat.

Decker said, “So the boys spoke to you for only a few minutes. They told you that someone was after them. They told you they came to Israel to hide.”

Tziril nodded.

“But you don’t know where they would go to hide.”

Again, Tziril nodded. Mr. Yalom finally spoke up. He let go with rapid Hebrew to his wife in a rough tone of voice. She waved him off. The old man got disgusted and walked off. Decker waited for Rina to translate, but it was Tziril who spoke.

“He’s very mad that I talk to you. He thinks maybe you want to kill the boys.”

“Didn’t your daughter explain me to him?”

“He says, how do we know you are the man that Orit said is all right?”

“Would you like me to speak to your daughter right now? I’ll be happy to pay for the call.”

“It’s night in America. Anyway, I trust you. How much big, very tall policeman with red hair can they be?”