Rina blew out air. “Because I asked her.”

“When was this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We never had time to talk about it. I was going to tell you, but then Honey disappeared. You were preoccupied with this big murder case. I didn’t want to disturb your concentration. I thought about it on the plane ride but you slept the whole way-”

“You slept. I didn’t sleep a wink. Too busy being serenaded by fifty throat-cracking adolescents singing Crash Test Dummies songs in Spanish.”

“Well, for whatever reason, we didn’t talk.”

Decker said, “You specifically asked Honey if Gershon was abusing the kids?”

“Yes.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said something like…” Rina sighed. “Oh boy, here goes. She said she’d kill him if he ever did that-”

“Oh boy is right!”

“No, Peter, it wasn’t like that. You’re taking her words out of context. She went on to say that Gershon had been a good man and a wonderful father-”

“Yeah, she was friggin’ in love with the guy. That’s why she was trying to divorce him.”

“She was cognizant of his problems. She knew he wasn’t…how did she put it…he wasn’t meant for organized life anymore.”

Decker said, “The woman did him in, Rina. Trust me on this one.”

Another honk from behind. Decker yanked the wheel to the right and allowed the Camry to pass. “I’m Jewish and they’re pissing me off. I could only imagine what a goy would think.”

“It’s a young country.”

“It’s in its late forties.”

“That’s a country in its teens. And like lots of adolescents we know and love, it has no manners. Give it time.”

“What were we talking about?”

“Gershon Klein.”

“Did Honey happen to mention to you that she was trying to divorce the guy?”

“No-”

“Yeah, she conveniently forgot that.”

“I think one of the kids walked in.”

The car began to balk as it made its climb through the mountains, toward Jerusalem. The air was clean and filled with the tang of pines.

“Peter, does it make sense for Honey to murder Gershon by drowning him in a bathtub?”

“It was probably the most effective weapon she had in the house.”

“Then why would she bother to shoot him, drag him over to his office, then trash the place to make it look like a robbery?”

Decker was quiet. “I haven’t worked that part out yet.”

Another blast from a horn. This time it was a woman who passed him. Equal opportunity rudeness. Decker said, “Why do they have a stupid law like that on the books?”

Rina turned to him. “What are you talking about?”

“Why can’t a woman file for a Jewish divorce? The law is so damn archaic as well as sexist. It’s unfair enough to raise even your underdeveloped feminist hackles.”

The car turned silent.

Decker said, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I didn’t mean to be hurtful. I’m sorry.”

“Peter, where is it written that you can’t be traditional and a feminist at the same time? One doesn’t preclude the other.”

“You’re right. I apologize-”

“I know who I am and I’m happy. There are still a few relics like me who are proud to be full-time mothers.”

“I’m proud of you, Rina. I’m proud of who you are and I wouldn’t want you to change for the world.”

He was really trying! Biting back a smile, Rina gave him a mock sneer. “You’re just kissing up to me because you’re lost in Israel without me.”

Decker was hurt. “I’m being sincere!”

“Sincere, my foot!” Rina held back a laugh. “Besides, it’s not the feminists who look askance at us stay-at-home moms. It’s everyone else. Especially the men-”

“What?”

“Men today have such unreasonable expectations-”

“Is this conversation going to deteriorate into a petty battle of the sexes?”

“It’s not enough for us poor women to keep house and take care of the kids.” Rina began to tick off her fingers. “We’ve also got to be beautiful, charming, sexy, physically fit, good cooks-amend that to gourmet chefs-”

“I don’t believe I’m hearing-”

“…who can make cappuccino. You haven’t the faintest idea how to steam milk, have you?”

“You got me there, Rina,” Decker said. “For your information, lady, I don’t drink cappuccino.”

“And we also have to work full time and bring in enough money to pay not only our own way, but also help pay for the kids’ clothes, the baby-sitters, the groceries-”

“Are you done yet?”

“Basically.”

“Never once have I asked you to work outside the home. And never once have I asked you to pay bills. So I must be way ahead of those other schmucks you’re talking about.”

“Indeed, Peter, you are neither a chauvinist nor a jerk.”

“So how about a little appreciation?”

“You’re a saint.”

“I didn’t say that! How’d we get on this stupid topic?”

“You were talking about Jewish divorce,” Rina stated. “It’s not the law that’s bad, it’s the implementation of the law that’s the problem. In biblical days, if a husband was recalcitrant, the rabbis had ways of making him cooperate. They might starve him or beat him until he relented and gave his wife a get. Harsh methods weren’t considered inhumane acts.”

“You don’t think starving or beating a guy is inhumane?”

“He doesn’t starve or get beaten if he relents, Peter. He only gets into trouble if he remains unreasonably stubborn. Then the rabbis take action because they feel they are actually doing the man a favor-”

“They’re doing him a favor by beating him up? This I’ve got to hear.”

Rina said, “Any man who would blindly refuse to give his wife a get was under the control of his yaitzer harah-his evil impulses. The rabbis considered it appropriate to beat the yaitzer harah out of his soul until he came to reason, until he felt the compassion and kindness of his yaitzer tov-his goodness.”

“A lot like leeches. You bleed to death but it’s good for you.”

“Peter, the process wasn’t irreversible. At any time, when the husband saw reason and gave his wife a get, the beatings were stopped.”

“They just whopped him until he cried uncle?”

“I’m not a rabbi, so don’t take what I say as fact. But I think the process went something like this. They’d ask him if he was going to give his wife a divorce. If he said no, they’d strike him. Then they’d ask him the same question again. If he said no again, they’d strike him again. And so on. Each time, they’d stop to ask him, hoping that the yaitzer harah had left his soul and he saw reason.”

Decker didn’t speak right away. Then he said, “And what happened if his yaitzer harah refused to leave? What happened if he never saw reason?”

Rina was quiet.

“Rina, did you hear my question? What happened if the guy kept on refusing to give his wife a get?”

“Again, I’m no rabbi.”

“I understand. Answer the question to the best of your ability.”

Rina exhaled forcefully. “I think that if he died during the procedure, it was not considered murder. It was considered the ultimate liberation of his yaitzer harah. The man has seen reason through death. His wife was free.”

“Are you saying if he consistently refused, he was beaten to death?”

“You should ask Rabbi Schulman-”

“To the best of your knowledge, darlin’.”

“I think he could be beaten to the point of death. If he was that desperate or vengeful to hold on to his wife, he was possessed.”

“So this whole ritual is kind of like an exorcism?”

“Peter, I don’t want to misrepresent the law. Ask Rabbi Schulman.”

Decker reflected upon her words as the Subaru continued its upward path to Jerusalem. The whole approach to divorce seemed not only arcane and unnecessary, but dangerous. A frustrated woman, a vindictive man, and no way out. Decker cleared his throat. “Does it have to be beating or starving the man?”

“What do you mean?”

“Suppose the rabbis…” Again, Decker cleared his throat. “Can they exorcise the demons by drowning instead?”