The Ritual Bath (22 page)

“Who did?” asked Morrison.

Schmidt thought a moment, then said, “I don’t think I should tell you that.”

“Such discretion,” muttered Ronson.

“You split after you heard the noise?” Decker asked.

“Man, we were
gone
!”

“Theoretically, Cory,” Decker said, “what were the names of your friends?”

Ronson protested, but the boy ignored him.

“Maybe, just maybe, their first names were Clay, Dennis, and Brian. That’s all I’m sayin’ for now.”

“Captain?” asked Decker.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Brief interlude, Counselor?” Morrison asked the P. D.

“Why the hell not?” snapped Ronson.

“Great,” Birdwell said, adjusting his glasses. “I’ve got to make a couple of calls.”

“I buy it,” Morrison said to Decker when they were alone. “Do you?”

“Yup.”

“The question is do you go for a sure thing and charge him with Murder One, or do you take a chance that a jury will believe him and try to get all four of them?”

Decker thought a moment.

“I don’t feel comfortable letting him take the sole rap when there are three others involved. And I think it would be hard to convince a jury that Schmidt acted alone. Also, other shoe prints and tire tracks were found at the scene. Be interesting if they matched his friends’.”

“If he turns state’s evidence, then we can get warrants for his pals.” Morrison tapped his foot. “Let’s try for all four. Now how much do we give up in exchange? Letting him off with
just an assault charge would be a travesty of justice.”

“For more than one reason, Captain. I don’t think he did the Adler rape.”

Morrison knitted his brows.

“Why the hell not?”

“Someone tried to break into the ritual bath the night Florence Marley was killed. Cory didn’t mention a thing about it. I think the perp who broke in that night was the same one who did the Adler rape. I made a tactical error by mentioning the rape the first time I questioned Cory after the supermarket thing, and the kid was somehow smart enough to use the information and plea bargain with it against the murder rap.”

“Shit.”

“You’re telling me,” Decker said. “I feel like a jackass.”

Morrison paused.

“I’d like to have someone in custody before I dismiss the charges. He confessed, Pete.”

“I just don’t see it. Cory and his friends have had minor brushes with the law. And whenever there was a weapon involved, it was a knife. When we searched Schmidt’s house, we found only one gun, and it belonged to his father. These kids are cutters. The Adler rapist had a gun. The night I first searched in the hills, someone shot at me. Someone who knew how to use a piece.”

“Perps have been known to use different methods.”

“Granted. But still, I’d like to delve a little
further into the case before sticking it on Cory.”

“I’m assuming you’ve questioned Macko about it?”

“Yes. It’s not his baby.”

“How’s your caseload?”

“With the Marley murder and the Foothill thing out of the way, I’ve got a little more time on my hands.”

“Any suspects?”

“A few.”

“It would be handy if Schmidt knew he didn’t have the Adler thing to bargain with. Let’s say, we’ll keep it quiet for forty-eight hours. See what you can do in two days.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Birdwell returned.

“Where do we go from here?”

Morrison briefed him.

“So what do you want to do with Schmidt?” the prosecutor asked, wiping his glasses. “Stall him?”

“Yeah, we stall him for two days,” Morrison responded. “Tell him we’re considering the trade.”

The captain turned to Decker.

“Have Hollander or Dunn pick up his friends on suspicion of murder, while you search for the ritual bath rapist. I don’t want them splitting on us when they get wind of the fact that Cory’s in deep shit.”

“What do we do if the Adler case comes up dry in two days?” Birdwell asked.

“Then we’ll have to see about a deal.” The
captain turned to Decker. “Two days, Pete. Starting right now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Decker started to walk away.

“Pete,” Morrison called out.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Good job on the Macko collar.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Rina waited for
Decker in the park.

It had been two days since the capture of the Foothill rapist, a week since they had last talked. Though she would have loved to call him up—to congratulate him on a job well done—she didn’t want to be a nuisance or give him the wrong idea. After all, she’d been so firm about not seeing him socially anymore.

But today he had called, saying he needed to talk to her, and they arranged to meet for lunch. Now she wondered if the rendezvous was wise. They could have spoken over the phone—there was no need to talk face-to-face—yet she had agreed and was excited about it. Being brutally honest, she asked herself whose needs were being satisfied.

He had occupied her thoughts since the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Feeling so vulnerable the night of Sarah’s ordeal, she’d been attracted to his self-assurance and physical stature. And in all the time she’d known him, never once had he taken advantage of her momentary weakness. He was kind to her boys
and respectful to her, never mocking her religious beliefs. And she loved when she dreamed about him, the images exhuming sensations in her body that had been buried for so long.

She felt happy when he was around; she missed him when they were apart. It was absurd. Theirs was a relationship that could never be. But she couldn’t help her feelings.

The Plymouth pulled up, and Peter got out. She’d expected him to be overflowing with relief and joy at capturing a man who had plagued him for so many months. But his face was full of tension.

“Hi,” he said, sitting down next to her.

“Congratulations,” she said enthusiastically.

“For what?”

“For catching the Foothill rapist.”

“Oh that.” He took off his jacket and loosened his tie. “It’s old news already.”

Her eyes drifted to his shoulder holster, then stared at the ground.

“Must be a load off your mind.”

“Oh yeah, no doubt about it. Nice to get the bastard behind bars. It’s even nicer that it looks like he’ll stay there for a while. We’ve got a couple of victims who picked him out of a lineup.”

“That’s wonderful,” she said. “How’d you do it?”

“A little routine police work. But mainly, his girlfriend ratted on him after the son of a bitch got tough with her poodle.”

“
Poodle
?”

“The guy kicked her dog. No telling what’ll bring citizens to their senses.”

A smile spread across his face.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said.

She let out a nervous laugh and smoothed out her silk dress.

“Why are you all dressed up?”

“I met my parents for breakfast. They like it when I dress up.”

“I don’t blame them. I like it, too.”

He thought a moment, then said, “I thought you don’t eat out in restaurants.”

“This one was kosher.”

“I remember a couple of kosher delis in Miami, but I didn’t know there was anything like that here.”

“There’s a great deli in the Valley and a gourmet restaurant in Los Angeles. The one we went to this morning was a new dairy restaurant. We don’t mix meat and dairy products, so restaurants have to be one or the other.”

“How was it?”

She smiled.

“Not bad. They have a few bugs to work out.”

“But you felt comfortable eating there?”

“Yes. I happen to know the rabbi who supervises the place. He’s very particular.”

Peter’s eyes twinkled, but he said nothing. Suddenly his head had begun to throb. He cupped his forehead between open palms.

“What’s wrong, Peter?”

“Oh, it’s only stress—”

“How long have you had these?” she asked with sudden urgency.

He looked at her.

“They’re nothing new. Don’t worry about it.”

Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a bottle of aspirin, tossed a couple of pills down his throat, and swallowed.

She knew she had overreacted because of Yitzchak.
Calm down. Not every headache is a brain tumor
.

“Would you like something to wash it down with?” she asked.

“Sure.”

She handed him a can of Coke. He took a swig, then winced.

“Your work is hazardous to your health.”

“Speaking of hazards, I’m worried about
you
.”

“The mikvah is closed,” she said.

“But we don’t have the rapist.”

“So Macko didn’t do it,” she said glumly.

“No. I would have called you immediately if he had. But I do have some other news. We’ve got Cory Schmidt in custody, charged with murdering Florence.”

“Oh God! He
did
do it. That disgusting little piece of trash!”

“No argument from me there.”

“When I think that he touched me, drew that knife…” She shuddered. “How’d you catch him?”

“He was set up.”

“By whom?”

“I’m not sure. I suspect his friends. Either they were angry at him for ratting on them about the supermarket incident, or the kid who actually did the killing got scared, had Cory’s knife, and found him a convenient scapegoat. That’s not important. What is, is that the murder weapon appeared magically at the station. We obtained a search warrant, and Schmidt’s shoes matched prints lifted from the murder scene. And his motorcycle tires match tracks found outside the yeshiva.”

“
Mazel tov
. Did you tell Mr. Marley?”

“I can’t say anything until everyone is charged.”

“When will that be?”

“We have to get a couple of things straightened out.”

She was silent.

“Cory said he raped Mrs. Adler, Rina.”

Her eyes widened.

“Why didn’t you
tell
me this?”

“Because I don’t believe him. It just doesn’t jibe.”

“Then why on earth would he admit doing it?”

“He’s trying to plea bargain. We’re not sure at this point if it was Cory or one of his friends who actually murdered Florence. We think it was one of Cory’s friends. Now Schmidt’s willing to turn state’s witness and rat on his friends if we lessen the charge to assault.”

Rina’s face went red with fury.

“Assault? He
raped
her!”

“The doctor screwed up—”

“He raped and murdered—”

“We’re not sure he actually murdered, Rina. That’s the problem.”

“He’s trying to get away with a lousy assault charge? The boy killed another human being. He pulled a knife on me, Peter! He deserves a firing squad!”

“If we can find the real rapist, he won’t have the assault to plea bargain with.”

She squeezed her hands together and clenched her jaw.

“The naked truth is we still have the mikvah rapist at large,” Decker said.

Rina pounded her fist against an open palm.

“I know it’s frustrating—”

“It’s damn infuriating! How do you stand it?”

“Who says I stand it? These headaches don’t come from nothing. But I try to ignore the garbage and do my job. The best revenge is to see the bastards behind bars. If I dwelled on the ones that got away from me, my work would suffer. We all have our methods of coping.”

She looked at him. He seemed so tired. She gave his hand a light pat.

He smiled at her gesture and decided to shift gears.

“Kids come back home from the grandparents?”

“Yes. They had a good time but were more than happy to come home. My parents are overprotective—it’s a hundred degrees outside, and they tell you to take a sweater, just in case.”

“How long could the boys stand staying there without going nuts?”

“Why?”

“I’m just asking you a question.”

“I know you too well by now. You never
just
ask a question. I’m not sending them away again.”

“You may have to.”

“Why?”

“Because the rape has to do with you.”

“What makes you so sure?” she said struggling to hold her emotions in check. “Maybe Cory did do it? I mean, it’s crazy otherwise, Peter. He and his friends murder Florence, then someone else tries to break into the mikvah to rape me?”

“It makes perfect sense if the guy happened to be hanging around, witnessed the murder, and took advantage of the fact that the guard was dead.”

“Who’d be hanging around?” Rina’s eyes widened. “Are we
back
on Moshe Feldman again?”

“I’m just looking at anyone who might—”

“
Gevalt
. He didn’t do it, Peter. He no more raped Sarah Libba than he killed Florence Marley. How can you possibly consider him a suspect and brush off Cory so easily? It seems to me you’re reaching. Why are you obsessing on Moshe?”

“I’m not obsessing. I’m trying to start from the beginning—”

“Are you afraid that this case will leave a blot on your perfect record?”

Decker lowered his head and gripped it hard.

“Oh Peter, I didn’t mean that.” She sighed. “I’m such a mess. And I’m taking out my frustrations on the person who’s trying to help me the most. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. We’re both a mess right now.” He took another swallow of Coke. “Rina, someone tried to break into the mikvah that night. And that someone was after you. Just like the first time.”

“Why do you say that? He could have gotten me if he wanted to. I would have come out a half hour later. All he had to do was wait.”

“The point is he thought Sarah Adler was you. The first time I interviewed you, you told me that you ran late that evening. Sarah left the mikvah at the time you usually leave. Do you remember saying that?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, you did. I have it in my notes.”

“Peter—”

“Listen. Sarah wore a black wig that could have easily been mistaken for your own hair. You told me she said the rapist went wild after he pulled off the wig. Of course he’d become unglued. At that point he realized that he had the wrong woman.

Rina said nothing. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. Memories flooded her head, dredging up past fears. Decker took her hand and brought it to his lips. They felt warm and soft. She let the kiss linger for a moment, then she pulled her hand away.

“Rina,
think
! Who could be after you? Anyone else besides the people we’ve discussed?”

She shook her head.

“It had to be someone who was on the grounds that night,” said Decker. “Someone who took advantage of Florence’s murder.”

He lit a cigarette.

“Which narrows the field of potential rapists down to all the men in the yeshiva,” he muttered.

“It’s not anyone from the yeshiva.”

“Fine. Have it your way. The fact is there’s still a rapist out to get you, and you’re still here. You’ve got to get away—”

“No,” she said defiantly. “We’ve already had this discussion.”

“Just hear me out, all right? I’ve been working with sex crimes for three years now, and I don’t say this to everyone. Sometimes rapes are random—the woman is in the wrong place at the wrong time—sometimes they’re not. This is one of the cases where there’s intentionality. The guy isn’t out to pound out his hatred on the first woman he sees. He’s out for you. You’re symbolic of something to the son of a bitch.”

“All the more reason I shouldn’t run away. If he’s out to get me, then he’ll follow me.”

“What about your kids?”

“Peter, where would I go? Back to my parents and involve them in this ordeal? In an apartment to live among anonymous strangers who don’t give a damn about me? At least here people know what’s going on. People
look after me. You call me; Sarah calls me every night at eleven. Here people care. I can’t run away. If you really think I’m in danger, then I’ll learn how to protect myself.”

She touched his shoulder holster.

“Teach me how to use it.”

“Oh, that’s a great solution. Play Annie Oakley, and you’ll definitely wind up damaged.”

“That’s downright sexist.”

“I’d say the same thing if you were a man, only I’d use Wyatt Earp.”

She folded her arms across her chest.

“As I recall, you trusted me with your own weapon a while back.”

“Florence might have still been alive. I had to look for her. I had no choice but to give you a gun.”

“And I have a lot of choices now?”

“You have a good one. You can leave. You didn’t have that option the night of the Marley murder.”

“Well, I don’t think escaping is a viable option in this case.”

“A gun is no good unless you know how to use it.”

“So teach me.”

“I mean use it
psychologically
. I know you could learn how to shoot. But when you point a firearm at an assailant, you’d better be damn sure you’re willing to pull the trigger and blow the bastard away. Because if you don’t, he’s going to grab the gun and use it on you. Could you kill someone?”

“I kicked Cory when I had to.”

“Could you
kill
someone?”

“If he was attacking my kids—”

“Could you draw a gun and kill someone if he was attacking you?”

“If I felt threatened, I think I could do it.”

“You think?”

“
Yes
, then. Yes, I could.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t know me all that well.”

“Maybe I’ve just seen too many nice people wind up in the morgue because they
thought
they could do it, also.”

“I fought back with Cory, Peter. And it felt good. Not everybody fights back, either.”

“It’s not the same thing as pulling the trigger.”

“You’re the cop. You tell me you’re worried about me. Then you tell me not to fight back.”

“A gun is not the answer.”

“Well, neither is escaping.”

He touched his throbbing head, then took her hand again.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not reckless, Peter. I called you the minute I thought something was amiss. And I’ll do the same thing if need be in the future. I’m not going to go after the rapist, but he’s not going to drive the boys and me away, either. If I’m attacked, I want to be able to take care of my kids and myself. I just know I could do it.”

She looked him in the eye.

“I could learn how to use a gun from someone else, you know.”

“I know.” Decker gave her a weak smile and looked inside the picnic bag. There was no sense pursuing the discussion.