“Three and a half years. The last two, like I said, he has been sober.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“At the last meeting-Tuesday night.”
“And everything was fine?” Novack asked.
“Yes, yes, of course.”
But Schnitman had become defensive.
“Are you sure about that?” Decker pressed. “Nothing on his mind?”
“Something is always on your mind when you’re an addict-”
“Nothing out of the ordinary?”
“He was… antsy.” The young man sighed. “But that’s not unusual. The first couple of years being drug-free… you’re always antsy.”
“Nobody is saying you were negligent or did anything wrong,” Decker assured him. “We’re asking you questions only because we need information. You tell us he was antsy. We’re going to ask you what was bothering him.”
“I don’t know. But I did ask him about it… if he was nervous about something. Did he need help? He said it wasn’t about drugs at all. It was personal. I asked if he wanted to talk about it, and he said no, everything would be okay. He had it under control.” Schnitman’s eyes watered. “I guess he didn’t have it under control. But how was I to know?”
Decker said, “No way for you to know except in retrospect.”
Novack said, “No idea what these personal problems were?”
“No.”
“Money, possibly?”
“I don’t know. One of the things we teach is not to push confession too early. It can have serious consequences. This is a stepped program. People go at their own speed and their own pace. And there was nothing to suggest that his problems were anything unusual.”
No one spoke.
“Well, obviously, they had to have been unusual for this to happen.” Schnitman wiped his eyes. “I’m going to go wash.”
“I’ll come with you,” Decker said.
“Anybody know where the facilities are?” Novack asked.
“In the back.”
Schnitman and Decker got up to go to the sink. As expected, Decker did tower over him, and Schnitman seemed to shrink even further, noticing the size difference. They ritually washed their hands, then said the blessing while eating warm pita bread. In silence, they went back to the table and sat back down. Novack excused himself.
Taking pita from a basket, Schnitman dipped a piece in the hummus and snagged a thick glob of the paste. “I had no idea that he had real problems, Lieutenant. He just wasn’t… that open. More than that he seemed to be doing okay. I just didn’t know!”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“This is terrible.”
“Yes, it is,” Decker said. “Did Ephraim ever talk about his niece?”
“Shayndie? Yes, all the time.” Schnitman went in for second helpings, then thirds. His appetite seemed to pick up. He spooned carrots, olives, and eggplant salad onto his plate. “She was a good point in his life, someone to be a role model to. He even brought her to a meeting once because he wanted her to see where drugs would lead her. I think it had a profound effect on her-some of the stories that we told her. She was very quiet, but you could tell that she was taking it all in.”
Novack sat down. “What’d I miss?”
“Ephraim brought Shayndie to an Emek Refa’im meeting once,” Decker said.
“He did?” Novack took a couple of pieces of sausage. “Wow, this is good! Hot!” He fanned his mouth. “What was the girl’s reaction at the meeting?”
“I just told the lieutenant here.” More carrots onto the plate, followed by several spoons of potatoes. “She was quiet but affected by it all.”
“Did she talk to any of the members?” Decker asked.
“Not that I can recall. Like I said, she was quiet.”
“Maybe one of the women?” Decker tried again.
“I don’t remember.”
“Can you ask?” Novack said.
“Sure, of course.” Schnitman broke off another piece of pita and smothered it with eggplant salad. “Ephraim…” He chewed his food. “The way he explained it… he was taking her under his wing because nobody else in the family wanted to address her problems.” He popped an olive into his mouth. “My people… I love them. But there is a certain tunnel vision that the Haredi have. To some of them-the very, very narrow-minded-listening to a woman sing-kol esha-is as bad as shooting smack because both are sins. Of course, we know that you can’t compare the two acts either physically or morally, but unless you’re familiar with that environment, you can’t possibly understand it.”
Decker said, “My wife covers her hair.”
Schnitman looked surprised. “Oh. But you’re not Haredi, though.”
“No, and neither is my wife. But I know what you’re talking about.”
A waiter came to the table. “Anything else?”
All three men shook their heads.
He placed the bill on the table and left.
Schnitman looked at the carpet on the ceiling. “You’re modern Orthodox.”
“That’s what my wife says,” Decker answered. “To me, it’s still pretty fanatical. I’m a recent convert-a baal teshuvah.”
“How recent is recent?”
“Ten years. Believe me, that’s still recent.”
Schnitman bit his fingernail. “The modern Orthodox don’t like us.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because they don’t. They think we’re loafers and freeloaders and lazy bums. But it’s not true! Some people are raised to be doctors, others lawyers. Most of the Haredi have been raised to be scholars. That is what we consider worthwhile-the study of Torah. Nothing else matters.”
Decker nodded.
Schnitman looked away. “You’re probably thinking that it’s working people like you who support people who learn all day. But that’s how you get your schar mitzvah-your place in heaven.”
“No, Mr. Schnitman, I get my own place in heaven-if it exists-by doing my own good deeds. I don’t depend on people to do it for me.” Decker focused in on the man’s green eyes. “Look, Ari, let’s try to forget about the minuscule differences right now. Because compared to the world out there, all of us-you, me, Detective Novack-we’re all lumped together as those pesky Jews who are always causing problems.”
“That is the truth,” Novack said. “Just look at how the news portrays Israel.”
“Exactly. So let’s all of us do a mitzvah and try to figure out what happened to Ephraim. Because maybe that will tell us what happened to Shaynda.”
“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what happened to either of them!” His voice was thick with depression. “I’ve told you everything I could think of.”
“I dunno,” Novack said. “Maybe you haven’t told us everything because maybe you feel like you’re breaking a confidence or something.”
“Not with a young girl missing. And besides, there are no more confidences because Ephraim is dead.”
“So you can answer me if I ask you what was Ephraim’s addiction?”
“His addiction?”
“Was it pot, booze, coke-”
“It was cocaine. Ephraim was a cocaine abuser.”
“And…”
“That’s it. Just cocaine.”
“Crack or blow?”
“Blow.”
“You’re sure that was his only chemical bad habit?” Novack said.
“Addiction, Detective.”
“Addiction, then. He ever mention experimenting with other drugs?”
“No. Only coke. But he had it bad. He was, at one point, going through several hundred dollars a day.”
Novack whistled. “Enough to get him into some pretty heavy debt.”
“He was in debt,” Schnitman said. “But, as I understand it, he was in the process of paying everyone off. He claimed to be making great progress.”
“Maybe it was great progress for him,” Novack said. “Maybe it wasn’t so great for the people he owed money to.”
“Possibly. I don’t know.”