My eyes had to open to wink at anything and that didn’t happen until early Monday morning. And they weren’t open long before I decided it was time to hammer the Holy Man. Rabbi or no, I had to grab his nuts and twist until he told the truth. The connective tissue among the Never Agains, the Avengers, and Color It Green was still missing, still out of sight. The Rabbi was my best chance at that tissue, the weakest link in a chain I now knew existed. But there was little hope of getting to him; none if I tried by myself.

Sadie took one look at me coming through the door and pointed silently to the rear office. Simon lifted his head from the mess on his desk. “Oh Christ,” he groaned. “This ain’t gonna be good.”

“It’s rotten. Lousy. The whole case stinks.”

“Sit down, Matt. You look like you just rolled out of bed. You still carrying on about Reb Yonah?”

“Damn right. The fucker was up to his ears in the Big Guy’s murder.”

“Slow down! What the hell do you mean? Did Julius give you bad drugs?” Despite his sarcasm, Simon leaned forward.

“It’s a trip, all right, but there’s no dope.” I laid it out. Every bit of it. Deirdre, Collins, the hit, Clifford and Blue, Yakov. I went over each detail, angle, theory, intuition. At the beginning of my story he had Sadie hold his calls. In the middle, he had her break his appointments. I took both as encouraging signs.

When I finally finished he sat beating on his head. “What a fucking story,” Simon said. “All this shit happening and I don’t know the first thing about it. Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“Tell you what? You wouldn’t have believed the different pieces were connected. You’re having trouble believing me now.”

He waved his hand. “No, no, you’re wrong. It’s your conclusions I have trouble with. The ice rink has you distorting things, blowing them up.”

“Blowing them up? Is that a joke? How much bigger than the IRA do you want?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Who says they were IRA? A freelance writer and a literate dope dealer. The goons were probably more Avengers.”

“Blue says no. He said he didn’t know them, that one spoke with a brogue.”

“Blue says. Cheryl says. What about Lou? What does he say?”

“And the kid? What do you think about him?”

“I think he’s telling the truth. In fact, I happen to think the explanation is damn close to the one you gave him. Hell, Matt, you can theorize forever. Maybe Washington Clifford is just interested in the Avengers. Maybe Reb Dov’s death was accidental. Maybe Kelly’s bullet was really meant for Yonah. The point is—there are a lot of maybes.”

“The diamonds in Deirdre’s apartment?”

“You don’t even know for a fact they were diamonds.” He thought a moment. “Okay, let’s say they were diamonds. She was fucking Kelly, right? Maybe he gave her a gift. See what I mean about maybes?”

I lit a cigarette, and grabbed a tighter grip on my frustration. Maybe Simon was right and this wasn’t Spy vs. Spy. Maybe the attempted hit had left me susceptible to Cheryl and Julie’s flights of fantasy. But there was no maybe about Father Collins’s artificial friendliness, the professional way I’d been run off the road, the small sleek pistol in Deirdre’s apartment.

“I only have to be right once to make my paranoia worthwhile.”

“I didn’t call you paranoid,” Simon quickly interjected. “I don’t know how I would react if a couple of thugs ran me off the road and took shots at me. I’m just saying that something like that tends to skew your thinking.”

“Okay, Simon, say I’m skewed about the IRA. You don’t think I’m skewed about Reb Yonah, do you?”

He hesitated a long time before he responded. “Truthfully, no. I think you’re onto something. Rabbi or not, I don’t like or trust him.” Simon leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. “But it’s a long spit to tie him into a conspiracy with the White Avengers or the IRA. Personally, I like your idea about blackmail. The Avengers get something ugly on Reb Yonah and hit him up. He pays off with diamonds.”

“With Rabbi Dov dead, the Never Agains waltz through open doors.”

“Shit happens,” Simon agreed.

“That’s not what I mean.”

He swung his feet down and rolled his leather chair out from behind the desk. “I know exactly what you mean and I think it’s crazy. Reb Yonah might be a Never Again groupie, but a Hasid doesn’t kill a Rebbe. They don’t pay to have it done either. I have to call you on this one. Hell,you’ve always been phobic about religion and right now you’re grabbing a face to hang it on.”

“I don’t feel good sending the boy back home without knowing the truth.”

“Matt, get real. You don’t feel good about sending the boy home, period.”

Everything he said seemed sensible. I’d fallen off enough bar stools to know that truth rarely comes wrapped in a tightly ribboned package, all questions asked, all answered. But I had seen the gun, believed Blue, and worried about sending Yakov home. I might not find all the answers, might end up agreeing that IRA footsteps were a product of overheated fear. But I couldn’t quit until I resolved my concern for Yakov; I still clung to a world of real people.

“Let’s find out.”

“Find out what?” he asked with exasperation.

“Let’s find out about our Reb Yonah. Let’s see if he knows something that clears things up. At least we can learn whether I sent the kid back to a safe situation.”

Simon shook his head skeptically. “This isn’t a detective talking, Matt. You’re back to social work.”

“So what? I don’t believe you’d feel real comfortable hearing something happened to the boy. I’m not talking about his father hurting him, I’m worried about the Never Agains. If they believe he knows something damaging…”

“No one from the Never Agains is going to harm Reb Yonah’s kid.”

“I’m not arguing the odds, just the possibility. Let’s make sure. Simon, I’m not going to rest easy until I know what really happened between Kelly and Yonah.”

“And how are we supposed to find all this out?”

“We’ll ask him. I have enough information to lean pretty hard.”

Simon looked amused and interested. “And if he doesn’t talk?”

“Then we’re in no worse shape than we are now.”

He placed his hands on either side of his head. “You aren’t paranoid, you’re completely crazy. You want us to toast a Hasidic Rabbi and hope he has something to hide. If he does, we learn what and he keeps quiet. But if he doesn’t break or has nothing to hide, you say we’re no worse off.”

Simon groaned again. “You’re no worse off. It’s my ass that gets hung from a tree. The second we leave, Reb Yonah screams persecution, and every Jewish organization lands on me like I was a fucking airport. My name will be Judas.”

“I know where you can get new business cards.”

“I like my cards. I like having a business. All Reb Yonah has to do is say you’re crazy. He’d be right.”

I shrugged. “If you don’t help you’re fucked anyway. I’ll go to the cops and they’ll work on him. Believe me, Reb Yonah will know who sent them. If it’s us and not the police, you can always say we were clearing up loose ends and Yonah misinterpreted. But if Downtown asks the questions, you’ll be dealing with more than miscommunication. I don’t think the organizations that are squeezing your chops will distinguish between you and your trusted employee.”

Simon’s face broke into a sardonic smile. “I knew it was coming. You always hold an ace, don’t you?”

“This is the only one I have. From here on in it’s a bluff.”

“Blind man’s bluff, you prick.”

“So you’ll help?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Simon. You don’t cave this easy unless you want to.”

Simon rolled his chair slowly back behind his desk. “I already told you I despise the Never Agains and I don’t like Reb Yonah. I’ll take some heat for holding their feet to the fire, but I think you are going to come up short and foolish.”

“I’ll break him.”

Simon ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you’ll do, but even if he gives you what you think you want, you’ll end up frustrated and dissatisfied. That’s my Matt.” He pushed his hair away from his eyes but this time smiled mischievously. “Now what is it you want me to do?”

After I told him, his smile turned sour. “You don’t want the kid there?” he asked

incredulously. “Why not? He’s your crowbar.”

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t worried about him. I’m not trying to ruin his fucking life.”

“Maybe you care about the boy but this ‘ruin his life’ routine is rationalized bullshit. A minute ago you were threatening to send troops. How would that have helped the kid? Call it the way it really is: you don’t quit until you’re good and ready. You were the same way with your first goddamn marriage and the same way about everything that happened between us.”

“I wasn’t going to call the cops; I knew you were going to help.”

“Damn right you knew. And, I’m sure you have some real feelings about the boy. But don’t lie to yourself about you.” He lifted the phone but kept his hand on a button. “You’re absolutely certain you don’t want Yakov there? It’s the best chance of getting Reb Yonah to talk.”

“I’m sure.”

It took about a half hour of telephone calls, call backs, and heated discussions before a meeting time was finally arranged. We would gather at Reb Yonah’s house after nightly prayers, a time when the Yeshiva students ate dinner. Simon didn’t mention me throughout any of the conversations. Given the heated exchanges, it seemed like a wise omission. Once I arrived Yonah would find it impossible to slam the door in my face.

After Simon finished the setup he sent me home. He was angry, already regretting his participation. We were better off by ourselves. I agreed to meet him in front of the Rabbi’s house a couple of minutes before the meeting.

It wasn’t a triumphant ride back to my apartment, but it had its moments. Though I was still flying blind, there was a smell of finish in the air. I had to be careful not to allow that smell to slow me down or drag me back to the couch.

As soon as I got home I went upstairs. Lou glanced up from the kitchen table when I entered his apartment. “You look better than the last time I saw you, Matty, but not by much. You could use three more days of solid sleep.”

“That bad, huh? Well, do you have any caffeine?”

“The water is hot for tea.” He bustled about adding a piece of his pie to the offer. I sat quietly, trying to maintain the satisfaction I’d felt while driving home. But the heady hint of finish kept slipping away, obscured by pangs of doubt. I told myself that doing right by me meant doing right for Yakov, only the mantra didn’t work: I felt like shit, and it showed.

“What’s the matter, Boychik?” Lou asked once he was seated. “This is more than tired.”

I tried a smile but quit halfway through. Instead, I hurriedly recounted Yakov’s visit.

Lou’s face sobered but he waited for me to continue.

“The boy was sick about it. Really trapped. He didn’t know what to do, keep it a secret, tell, or what.”

“He trusted enough to come to you?”

“Sort of. It was like he was committing patricide. I tried to calm his fears and make it possible for him to return home.”

“Do you actually think Reb Yonah had a hand in the Rebbe’s death? Or in what happened to you the other night?”

“I don’t know, Lou. He had something working. At the very least he’s a pulling guard for Never Agains. I keep wondering if I did the right thing by sending Yakov back.”

Lou grunted, refilled our cups with more hot water, dipped the used teabags, and returned with the cups to the table. I didn’t say anything about the three squares of sugar he dropped into his tea.

“But you don’t really believe Reb Yonah was involved in the shooting, do you?”

“You keep asking me that,” I said. “He knew Kelly, he shot Kelly. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

Lou looked at me and carefully chose his words. “Are you going to tell me about the other night? The blood, the dirt?”

“Sometime. Not right now.”

Lou let it pass then trapped me with a right hook. “This friendship you have with the boy puts you in a difficult position, doesn’t it?”

“Seems to. I thought I was finished mixing him up with Becky, but now I’m not even sure of that.”

Lou smiled. “It’s never possible to be certain about something like that, Boychik.”

I rubbed my face. “I’m finding out. So I run over to Simon and convince him we have to grill the Rabbi. He sets up a meet for tonight. Driving home I’m cheering. Now I’m thinking, what the fuck did I get myself into? If I break the Rabbi down and find out he’s been up to something, what’ll I have? If I do something I hurt the kid. If I don’t, I’m left with an unhappy me. The situation isn’t only difficult, Lou. The situation sucks.”

Lou shook his head. “What’s the difference, Matty?” he said sharply. “You’re not going to stop. You won’t let it rest until you’re satisfied. It doesn’t matter who will be unhappy or who won’t be.”

Lou’s echo of Simon’s earlier accusation stung. “Including the kid?”

“Including the kid. Will he be there?”

“No. At least I made sure of that.”

“But Reb Yonah could go to jail?”

“I’ll tell you something, Lou. I doubt I’d go to the police even if he was guilty.”

“Because…?”

“Because I don’t think I could take the kid’s father away from him and live with myself. Believe it or not, I have some limits.”

“I don’t think you want to hurt the boy, Matty.” Lou sat thinking then said, “Anyway, why should you know now what you will do later? Find out what’s going on, then make your decisions.”

“A little fast and loose, no?”

“Everything in life is fast and loose, Boychik. We just pretend it isn’t.”

“I could use a little help.”

His eyes lit up. “What kind of help?”

“First, you can tell me something. I found a couple of gray, I don’t know, stones I guess, wrapped in a lined origami-like envelope. They looked like dirty lumps of frosted ice. It would make case sense if they were diamonds, but they looked like dull pebbles.”

“I can’t tell you for certain unless I looked at them, but they could be roughs. Before the gem cutters clean and shape. It’s possible you saw industrial diamonds, but those usually aren’t wrapped in diamond paper.”

“Good. Could you call your friend in New York and see if he knows anything about Reb Yonah’s dealings?”

Lou shook his head dubiously. “I’ll call, but don’t expect much useful information. People in that business keep their hands very close to the vest and their mouths sealed.”

I chugged the rest of my tea and stood. “You don’t mind trying?”

“Of course not. It will give me pleasure.”

“Thanks, Lou. I’ll be downstairs. Give me a ring if you dig something up?”

He didn’t bother to say goodbye. He just nodded while he hoisted himself from the kitchen chair and headed toward the telephone.