“Be extra vigilant. As anticipated, my father has returned to Sea Haven.”
“Don’t worry, sir.” He taps a sheet of paper taped to the top of his small desk. “We have the protocol and procedures right here. We are ready to rock and roll.”
“Excellent. Keep up the good work.”
“You got it, man.”
The gate rises.
“That’s Bruce Southworth,” says Ceepak as we cruise into the condo complex. “He has the potential to be a fine law-enforcement officer some day.”
“Good to know.”
Ceepak’s phone chirrups. It’s his standard ringtone, not one of the ones I programmed in for him.
He jabs the speakerphone button.
“Hello?”
“John?”
“Rabbi Bronstein.”
“Yes. Might I speak freely?”
“Certainly, sir. I’m here with my partner, detective Boyle.”
Wow, that’s right. This, for the time being, anyway, is a murder investigation. That means I’m a detective again.
“The young man who was with you at the house?”
“That’s right.”
“Then he should hear what I am about to say, too.”
“What’s wrong, rabbi?”
“I didn’t want to mention this in front of his children but, late last night, just after midnight, Arnold Rosen called me.”
“And?”
“He told me he was ‘surrounded by assassins.’ This autopsy you’re doing? I feel it could prove a wise and prudent move.”