“Sure, I’ll split it with you.”

Jacob banged a spoon against some stemware and stood up. Everyone looked at him. Hannah said, “Make it quick, Yonkie.”

“Just a few words.”

“It better be, Yonkie, I’m hungry,” Sammy turned to Tyler. “He likes to make announcements.”

Hannah said, “He’s sentimental.”

Cindy said, “In all fairness, how often are we all together?” She looked at Yasmine. “You’re here along with Gabe’s spirit.”

“I’ll fill him in when he gets home.”

“Where is he?” Hannah asked.

“Uh, Japan . . . Osaka.”

“A lovely place,” Nina said. “Especially compared to Tokyo.” She turned to Rina. “Have you been?”

“It’s on my list.”

“The cherry blossom time is simply exquisite.”

“Nina, he’s trying to talk,” Tyler said.

“Oh, pish!” She turned quiet.

Jacob said, “It’s impossible to keep this family’s attention for more than thirty seconds.”

Ilana patted his hand. “Make it quick, sweetie.”

Jacob cleared his throat. “First of all, I’d like to say congratulations to our baby sister on her recent engagement to Raphy.” Everyone let go with a mazel tov or a hear, hear. “This is a day that I am sincerely looking forward to because I have been making notes about her since she was two and I have a lot of dirt on her.”

“Blackmail worthy?” Hannah said.

“I’m keeping it PG.”

“I’m hun-gry,” Sammy said.

“Second of all.” Jacob grinned. “Everyone here knows I move a little slow and I couldn’t take another wedding with a ‘soon by you’ so . . .” He took a deep breath, and then he took Ilana’s hand. He got down on one knee. The women gasped. Instantly, Ilana teared up. Rina squeezed Decker’s hand. Jacob took out a small box and said, “I know this was a long time coming, but will you do me the honor of being my wife? And if it’s no, please say yes anyway so you don’t embarrass me in front of my family.”

Ilana couldn’t answer, but she nodded and the table broke out into applause. Ilana opened the box and gasped. She still couldn’t talk as Jacob put the ring on her finger.

“Fin-a-lly!” Sammy put the menu down. “I’m having a steak.”

Rachel hit him. “It’s your brother. Can you show a little emotion?”

“It’s been seven years.”

Rachel hit him again.

Nina said, “How grand is this? Now it’s truly a party. Let’s get champagne.” She summoned the waiter and asked for four bottles of champagne along with four bottles of To Kalon, which put the bar bill well over two thousand dollars.

There were kisses and hugs all around. Everyone admired the ring. The girls were in their element while the boys talked food. Rina said, “You have to call up your parents, Lani.”

“They already know,” Jacob said. “They helped me pick out the ring. They’re coming for dinner. I’m assuming you wouldn’t mind.”

“When did you do all this?” Ilana finally said.

“I’m a sneaky guy.”

“Gawd, with all these people, you should have rented a hall!” Nina turned to Ilana. “Would you like a bridal shower, dear?”

“Nina, I’m sure her friends will do that for her,” Tyler said.

“I’m sure they will. But with my friends, she’ll have a completely different present pool: deeper pockets. Don’t deny me this, dear. We’re always looking for an occasion to dress up and show off.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. He leaned over to Decker and handed him a piece of paper. “New York art galleries. A lot of them closed at five, but some were open until eight. I called up a few to find out if any of them employed Angeline Moreau.”

“Any luck?”

“No. And I didn’t say I was a cop. I told them I was from the bursar’s office at Littleton College and was trying to reconcile some numbers for her W2 form.”

“Good work.” Decker’s eyes scanned the list of galleries. “I got a call back from Jason Merritt. I set up an appointment at ten. Let’s meet at Gabe’s apartment at nine and figure out a strategy.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“For once can you not talk about work?” Rina scolded. “Especially in light of what just happened?”

“I brought it up,” McAdams said. “I apologize.”

“Don’t you dare let him off the hook,” Rina said.

Decker said, “I won’t talk about work. But then you can’t talk about wedding stuff. I have nothing to add on the seemingly endless topic. And even if I did, no one would listen to me.”

Hannah said, “You haven’t said anything to me.”

“Whatever I said never got past your mother’s veto.”

“That’s not fair,” Rina said. “Well, maybe it is a little fair.”

Decker laughed, leaned over, and kissed her forehead.

“I’d like to have your input, Peter,” Ilana said.

“Ilana, that would be a first. But honestly, weddings are outside my bailiwick.”

“How can I not talk about weddings?” Rina protested. “Especially now.”

“Two weddings in . . .” Sammy looked at his brother. “Are you planning in months or years for the actual date?”

Ilana’s eyes were on the ring. “There’s no hurry.”

“Oh, don’t say that to him,” Rina said.

“I’d at least like to finish my internship.”

“How long is that going to take?” Rina said.

“Like maybe two years.”

“Two years sounds about right.” Jacob stood up and motioned over a couple who was walking toward the table, both of them with grins on their faces. “Dad, could you just be nice?” he asked. “And if you can’t be nice, can you at least not be grumpy?”

“Don’t ask for the moon, son, and you’ll never be disappointed,” Decker said.

“He’s just grumpy because he’s hungry,” Sammy said.

Rachel said, “Like father, like son . . .”

“I fully admit it.”

“This event should have been catered,” Nina said.

“Stop it,” Tyler said.

Ilana’s parents sat down and again kisses and hugs and oohs and aahs were exchanged. The server finally came over with several bottles of champagne and a bucket of ice.

Nina said, “Keep it flowing, darling. It looks like everyone could use a little mellowing.”

When all the glasses were poured, Jacob held the glass up and said, “L’chayim.”

“L’chayim,” the chorus responded.

“That means to life,” McAdams told Nina.

“I know what it means, Tyler, I wasn’t born in an eggshell.” Nina pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “Besides, who in America hasn’t seen Fiddler on the Roof?”

CHAPTER 20

THE MERRITT GALLERY’S address was in the Fifties between Park and Lexington, one of the many smaller studios that occupied a glass and chrome skyscraper. Inside, it was small and spare with religious articles in cases as well as Byzantine art painted on canvas, board, or wood planks. There were several Madonna and child, the Christ babies looking very elongated and with adult features, as if the artist was astigmatic. The babies were very different from the plump Renaissance Jesus that Decker was used to seeing in museums.

A man dressed head to toe in black looked up from the desk. He was in his thirties, balding and lean, but with big arms that strained his long-sleeved T-shirt. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Jason Merritt.” Decker gave the man his card. “He’s expecting us.”

“Police?” The assistant frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“Just gathering information about icons,” Decker said. “It has to do with a thirty-year-old case that we’re reopening.”

The assistant pushed the intercom on his phone. “The Greenbury Police are here . . . Certainly, Mr. Merritt.” He looked at Decker and then at McAdams. “His office is in the back.” The assistant got up and started walking. “Are you working on the Petroshkovich icons? We’re all wondering if the case would ever be reopened.”

“It was never closed.”

“Well, I for one am glad to hear that someone’s breathing new life into it.”

“And you are?”

“Victor Gerrard.” He knocked on the door.