Sanctuary by Faye Kellerman Page A

Decker said. “I interviewed quite a few of their chums. They seem in the dark as well.”
    “Except for the niece who got a phone call,” Davidson said. “Where was the booth?”
    Decker said, “About two miles from the house. It’s a three-block shopping center. I have nothing definitive at this point. Tomorrow, I’d like to interview the store owners. It’ll take time, but something might pan out.”
    Davidson nodded, folding sausage-shaped fingers into fists. “Tell me about this silver case.”
    “It’s a standard Jewish talisman, for lack of a better word,” Decker said. “The one for the front door is always posted on the outside frame. The Yaloms had theirs posted on the inside—”
    “Could be an oversight,” Davidson said.
    “Not a chance,” Decker said. “It would be like wearing your underpants on the outside. It was deliberate. I think it once held valuables—diamonds, maybe.”
    “Somebody took them,” Davidson said. “A robbery?”
    “Or a convenient source of cash if the family had to split suddenly,” Marge said. “The sister said that was how her family dealt with the Nazis. The father paid off the border guards in stones.”
    “An old habit that served them well in the past,” Decker said.
    “What if it was a robbery?” Davidson asked. “Hiding diamonds in a weird place like that. Looks to me like it would have to be an inside job. What kind of help do these people have?”
    “We’re working on finding the gardeners,” Marge said.
    “Inside job might also be one of the kids,” Davidson said. “Kid swipes the stones, then makes a panic call to his cousin. So what do we got so far?” Davidson held up his thick hand and began ticking off options. “Aninside robbery. A family on the lam. A Solomon thing. Or maybe even a Menendez thing. Any comments?”
    Decker thought about Tug’s observations. Menendez and Solomon. Two big cases. The Menendez brothers had shotgunned their parents to death. The Solomons had been a family that disappeared off the face of the earth. No bodies had ever been recovered—the case an open hole on the books.
    Decker said, “As far as we could tell, there was no killing done in the house. And all the cars were still in the garage—”
    “Including the older boy’s car, right?”
    “Yes,” Marge said.
    “What’s his name?”
    “The older boy?” Marge said. “Gil. Dov’s the younger one, the one who made the call to the cousin.”
    “Okay, I got the names straight,” Davidson said. “Back to the cars. If all the cars were in the garage, you’ve got to be thinking about a family abduction. Because if the boys lured the parents to a spot in order to whack them, a car would be missing.”
    Marge said, “Unless the boys returned the car to their house before disappearing.”
    Davidson looked at her and squinted.
    “Good point,” Decker said.
    Davidson glared at him. “I know it’s a good point, Decker. You don’t have to stroke her ego.”
    Decker’s voice was flat. “I’m just a nice guy.”
    Davidson looked disgusted. “All right. So there’s a chance the boys whacked the parents.”
    “The bimbo cousin also mentioned the father argued with his sons,” Marge said. “Especially the younger boy.”
    Davidson squinted. “I argued all the time with my old man. I never thought of whacking him.”
    “Just presenting motive,” Marge said.
    “And I’m saying what a prosecutor would be saying,” Davidson said. “Kids and parents fight all the time. Most of us don’t wind up murdering our parents.”
    Nobody spoke, then Davidson said, “Okay, it’s a consideration. The boys whacked the parents or someone whacked the whole family. What about the family taking off for parts unknown?”
    “We thought about that,” Marge said. “We didn’t find the passports. Of course, the search was superficial. Could be Yalom kept them in his vault.”
    “Vault?”
    Decker said, “Yalom has a vault down at the Diamond