Cross Bones Part 13

Dora clasped her hands in her lap and looked down at them. "Miriam has returned to the butcher for something she left behind."

Ryan and I exchanged glances. He nodded that I should begin.

"Mrs. Ferris, I know you've already talked with Detective Ryan."

The frosted gaze came up, level and unblinking.

"We hate to disturb you again, but we're wondering if anything new has come to mind since those conversations."

Dora shook her head slowly.

"Did your son have any unusual visitors in the weeks before his death?"

"No."

"Had your son argued with anyone? Complained about anyone?"

"No."

"Was he involved in any political movements?"

"Avram's life was his family. His business and his family."

I knew I was repeating the same questions Ryan had asked. Interrogation 101. Sometimes the ploy works, triggers previously forgotten recollections or details initially deemed irrelevant.

And this was the first time Dora had been questioned alone.

"Did your son have enemies? Anyone who might have wished him harm?"

"We are Jews, miss."

"I was thinking of a specific individual."

"No."

New tack.

"Are you acquainted with the men who observed your son's autopsy?"

"Yes." Dora pulled on an ear and made a gurgling sound in her throat.

"Who chose those individuals?"

"The rabbi."

"Why did only two men return in the afternoon?"

"That would have been the rabbi's decision."

"Do you know a man by the name of Kessler?"

"I once knew a Moshe Kessler."

"Was he in attendance at your son's autopsy?"

"Moshe died during the war."

My cell phone chose that moment to sound.

I checked the screen.

Private number.

I ignored the call.

"Were you aware that your son sold antiques?"

"Avram sold many things."

My phone rang again.

Apologizing, I turned it off.

Impulse. Frustration. Inspiration. A name in my head like an unwanted jingle. I'm not sure why I asked the next question.

"Do you know a man named Yossi Lerner?"

The furrows cornering Dora's eyes deepened. The wrinkled lips tucked in.

"Does that name mean something to you, Mrs. Ferris?"

"My son had a friend named Yossi Lerner."

"Really?" I kept my face neutral, my voice calm.

"Avram and Yossi met as students at McGill."

"When was that?" I didn't look at Ryan.

"Years ago."

"Did they keep in touch?" Casual.

"I have no idea. Oh, dear." Dora gulped air into her lungs. "Is Yossi involved in all this?"

"Of course not. I'm just throwing out names. Do you know where Mr. Lerner lives now?"

"I haven't seen Yossi in years."

The front door opened, closed. Seconds later Miriam appeared in the living room.

Dora smiled.

Miriam stared at us, face so devoid of expression she could have been studying moss. When she spoke, it was to Ryan.

"I told you my mother-in law is unwell. Why are you bothering her?"

"I'm fin-" Dora started to speak.

Miriam cut her off.

"She's eighty-four and has just lost her son."

Dora made a tsk tsk sound. sound.

As before, Ryan gave Miriam silence, waited for her to fill it. This time she didn't.

Dora did.

"It's all right. We were having a nice discussion." Dora flapped a blue-veined hand.

"What are you discussing?" Miriam's gaze stayed on Ryan as though Dora hadn't spoken.

"Euripides," Ryan said.

"Is that supposed to be humorous, Detective?"

"Yossi Lerner."

I watched Miriam carefully. If I expected a reaction, there was none.

"Who's Yossi Lerner?"

"A friend of your husband's."

"I don't know him."

"A school friend."

"That would be before my time."

I looked at Dora. The old woman's gaze had gone fuzzy, as though she were viewing memories outside the room.

"Why are you asking about this man? This Yossi Lerner?" Miriam pulled off her gloves.

"His name came up."

"In your investigation?" The violet eyes showed the slightest surprise.

"Yes."

"In what context?"

Outside, I heard the beep beep beep beep of a car alarm. Dora didn't stir. of a car alarm. Dora didn't stir.

Ryan looked at me. I nodded.

Ryan told Miriam about Kessler and his photo.

Miriam's face registered nothing as she listened. It was impossible to guess her interest or emotions.

"Is there a link between this skeleton and my husband's death?"

"Straight or sugar-coated?"

"Straight."

Ryan raised digits as he ticked off points.

"A man is murdered. A guy produces a photo, claims the skeleton in that photo is the reason for the shooting. That guy is now missing."

Ryan's pinky joined the others.

"There's evidence the skeleton in the photo came from Masada."

Thumb.

"The victim dealt in Israeli antiquities."

Ryan started over with his index finger.

"The skeleton was once in the possession of one Yossi Lerner. The victim was once pals with one Yossi Lerner."

"The other was a priest."

We all turned to Dora.

She spoke to the air.

"The other boy was a priest," she repeated. "But he was later. Or was he?"

"What other boy?" I asked gently.

"Avram had two friends. Yossi, and then later this other boy." Dora tapped a fist to her chin. "He was a priest. He surely was."

Miriam crossed to her mother-in-law, but did not reach out to her.

I was reminded of the scene in the morgue family room. The women had been side by side but distant. They had not touched. They had not embraced. The younger had not shared her strength with the older. The older had not sought comfort from the younger.