The Forgotten

“Friends?” Decker smiled.

She smiled back with wet eyes.

Decker’s smile faded as the horror hit him. “Good Lord!” He threw his head back. “This is … awful!”

“They took the kiddush cup, Peter.”

“What?”

“The kiddush cup is gone. We kept it in the cabinet. It was silver plate with turquoise stones and just the type of item that would get stolen because it was accessible and flashy.”

Decker thought a moment. “Kids.”

“That’s what they’re all saying. Why not some evil hate group?”

“Sure, it could be that. One thing I will say on record is it’s probably not a hype. If he wanted something to swap for instant drug money, the crime would have been clean theft.”

“Maybe the cup is hidden underneath all this wreckage.” Rina shrugged. “All I know is the cup isn’t in the cabinet.”

Decker took out his notebook. “Anything else?”

“Fresh scratch marks on the padlock on the Aron—the Holy Ark. They tried to get into it, but weren’t successful.”

“Thank goodness.” He folded his notebook and studied her face. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m … all right. I’ll feel better once this is cleaned up. I suppose I should call Mark Gruman.”

Decker sighed. “He and I painted the walls the first time. Looks like we’re going to paint them again.”

Rina whispered, “Once word gets out, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of willing volunteers.”

“Hope so.” Decker stamped his foot. An infantile gesture but he was so damn angry. “Man, I am pi … mad. I’d love to swear except I don’t want to further desecrate the place.”

“What’s the first step in this type of investigation?”

“To check out juveniles with past records of vandalism.”

“Aren’t records of juveniles sealed?”

“Of course. But that doesn’t mean the arresting officers can’t talk. A couple of names would be a good start.”

“How about checking out real hate groups?”

“Definitely, Rina. We’ll work this to the max. Nothing in this geographical area comes to mind. But I remember a group in Foothills—the Ethnic Preservation Society or something like that. It’s been a while. I have to check the records, and to do that properly I need to go back to the office.”

“Go on. Go back. I’ll be okay.” She turned to face him. “Who’s coming down?”

“Wanda Bontemps. She’s from the Hate Crimes Unit. Try not to bite her head off. She had a bad experience with Jews in the past.”

“And this is who they bring down for a Jewish hate crime?”

“She’s black—”

“So she’s a black, and an anti-Semite. That makes it better?”

“She’s not anti-Semitic at all. She’s a good woman who was honest enough to admit her issues to me early on. I’m just … I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.” He looked around and grimaced. “I should learn to keep my mouth shut. I’ll chalk it up to being a little rattled. Wanda’s new and has worked hard to get her gold. It hasn’t been an easy ride for a black forty-year-old woman.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Rina answered. “Don’t worry about her, Peter. If she just does her job, we’ll get along just fine.”

2 (#u0f746847-02e6-5495-8ba5-4f5ec129c6fa)

The pictures of the concentration-camp victims had to have come from somewhere. It was possible that they were downloaded from a neo-Nazi on-line site and enhanced to make them look like real photographs. Still, it was equally as likely that they had come from some kind of local organized fascist group. The fringe group that Decker had remembered from his Foothills days had tagged itself the Preservers of Ethnic Integrity. When he had worked Juvenile, it hadn’t been much more than a post-office box and a once-every-six-months meeting in the park. A few quick phone calls told him that the group was still in existence and that it had evolved into something with an address on Roscoe Boulevard. Decker wasn’t sure what they did or what they espoused, but with that kind of a name, the hidden message had to be white supremacy.

He checked his watch, which now read close to eleven. He got up from his desk and went out into the squad room. There were lots of empty spots, signifying that most of Devonshire’s detectives had been called into the field, but luck placed Tom Webster at his desk, and on the phone. The junior homicide detective was blond, blue-eyed, and spoke with a good-ole-boy drawl. If anyone could pose as an Aryan sympathizer, it would be Webster … except for the dress. Neo-Nazis didn’t usually sport designer suits. Today, Tom had donned a navy suit, white shirt, and a maroon mini-print tie—probably Zegna. Not that Decker wore hundred-dollar ties, but he knew the brand because Rina’s father liked Zegna and often gave Sammy and Jake his cast-off cravats.

Webster looked up, and Decker caught his eye, pointing to his office. A minute later, Tom came in and closed the door. His hair had been recently shorn, but several locks still brushed his eyebrows, giving him that “aw shucks” look of a schoolboy.

“Sorry about this morning, Loo.” Webster took a seat across Decker’s desk. “We all heard it was pretty bad.”

“Y’all heard right.” Decker sat at his desk and sifted through his computer until he found what he wanted. Then he pressed the print button. “What’s your schedule like?”

“I was just doing a follow-up on the Gonzalez shooting. Talking to the widow …” He sighed. “The trial’s been delayed again. Perez’s lawyer quit, and they’re assigning him a new PD who is not familiar with the case. Poor Mrs. Gonzalez wants closure and it isn’t going to happen soon.”

“That’s too bad,” Decker stated.

“Yeah, it’s too bad and all too typical,” Webster answered. “I have court at one-thirty. I thought I’d go over my notes.”

“You’re a college grad, Webster. That shouldn’t take you long.” Decker handed him the printout. “I want you to check this out.”

Webster looked at the sheet. “Preservers of Ethnic Integrity? What is all this? A Nazi group?”

“That’s what you’re going to find out.”

“When? Now?”

“Yes.” Decker smiled. “Right now.”

“What am I inquiring about? The temple vandalism?”

“Yes.”

“Am I supposed to be simpatico to the cause?”

“You want information, Tom; do what you need to do. As a matter of fact, take Martinez with you. You’re white, he’s Hispanic. With racists, you can do good cop, bad cop just by using the color of your skin.”

From the synagogue, Bontemps called Decker and told him about the three kids she had hauled in for prior vandalism. All of them had sealed records.

“How about a couple of names?” Decker asked.