Stone Kiss

by Faye Kellerman

Genres: Jewish Fiction; Police Procedurals

Synopsis

Rina Lazarus has some shocking news for her husband, LAPD Lieutenant Peter Decker. A horrible murder has occurred in the family of his half-brother, Rabbi Jonathan Levin. The rabbi's brother-in-law was found slain in a seedy hotel room in upper Manhattan, and the victim's 15-year-old niece, with whom he was spending the day, is missing. Decker, with Rina at his side, immediately heads out to New York to assist in the investigation. But what starts out as simple inquiries soon evolves into a twisted and perilous journey -- from the darkened slums of New Jersey and the deserted industrial streets of New York to the recesses of sexual perversity and the hidden meeting places of Hasidic outcasts. Thrust into a deadly maze of deceit, lies, and danger, the couple can no longer trust anyone -- friend or family. And when salvation is finally within Decker's grasp, it can only be delivered by a depraved lone wolf, hell-bent on his own personal vengeance.

Release date: July 1, 2003

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 400

Sample

Dear Readers and Fellow Users,


I am very pleased to be part of eBooks and the twenty-first century. For many years, I resisted being part of the web, happily
pounding out my books on an old IBM double drive DOS system computer. I still have it somewhere and I’m sure it works just
fine. In the changeable world of electronics, it is now considered an antique. The thing was an absolute workhorse and refused
to die. I finally had to give it up when the year 2000 came rolling along. I was afraid of Y2K problems.


Remember that phrase? Y2K?

Anyway, my newest computer is fast, efficient, is hooked up to DSL and has lots of fancy features. Unfortunately, it doesn’t
help me write any better. There is no substitute for time and care and hard work. I’ve written books with paper and pencil,
I’ve written books on the latest of equipment. What determines the quality of the manuscript has nothing to do with gadgets,
but everything to do with creativity, perseverance, dedication, long hours and a little serendipitous luck. It has to do with
caring about my characters and trying to write a suspenseful, multilayered plot.


STONE KISS was inspired by a desire to change the locale for my series detective and by my love of New York. I’ve visited
the city many times and on each occasion I’ve come away with ideas and
inspiration. And how can you not, with the multitude of people living in such tight quarters? This is my second book with
Decker in New York and it worked so well the first time, I thought… well, why not?


One of the most enjoyable things about writing a series is the ability to bring back terrific characters from the past. In
STONE KISS, we meet up once again with Decker’s “secret” half-brother Jonathan Levine. The book contrasts two very different
families, one that works cohesively under stress and another that falls apart during the crisis. It is a book of lost opportunities
as well as a suspenseful cat-and-mouse between Decker and an old adversary, also brought back from a past novel.


I hope you enjoy STONE KISS. If I have succeeded in entertaining you, let me know. If I haven’t, I’m sure you’ll let me know
about that, as well.


Take care and enjoy the ride.

That’s all, folks.





It was the stunned, pale look of bad news. Decker immediately thought of his parents, both in their mid-eighties, and though their health wasn’t
failing, they had had some problems over the past year. Right away, Rina had the good sense to tell him that the family was
fine.


Decker was holding his daughter’s hand. Looking down at the little girl, he said, “Hannah Rosie, let me fix you up with some
videos and a snack. I think Eema needs to talk to me.”


“It’s okay, Daddy. I can do it myself. Eema taught me how to use the microwave.”

“Nine years old and ready for college.”

“No, Daddy, but I can use a VCR and a microwave.” She turned to her mother. “I got an A on a spelling test. I didn’t even
study.”


“That’s wonderful. Not that you didn’t study, but that you got an A.” Rina kissed her daughter’s cheek. “I’ll be with you
in a minute.”


“Whatever…” Hannah left, rolling her wheeled backpack into the kitchen.

“You should sit.” Decker regarded his wife. “You’re colorless.”

“I’m all right.” But she sank down into the couch, hugging a blue-and-white-checked throw pillow like a life preserver. Her
cerulean eyes skittered around the living room, first landing on the lamp, then bouncing off Decker’s special leather chair,
onto the white wicker rocker. Anywhere but on his face.



“My parents are fine?” he asked specifically.


“Perfect,” Rina reiterated. “Jonathan called—”

“Oh God! His mother?”


“No, she’s fine.”

Jonathan’s mother was Frieda Levine. She was also Decker’s biological mother, making Jon his half brother. Ten years ago,
by accident rather than by design, Decker had met up with his maternal family, which included five half siblings. Ties had
been forged: more than mere acknowledgments, but less than time-tested relationships. Decker still considered his only parents
to be the two people who had adopted him in infancy. “Then what’s going on?”


They both heard the microwave beep. A moment later, Hannah came out, juggling a pizza bagel on a plate, a big glass of milk,
and her backpack. Decker said, “Let me help you with that, sweetie.”


Wordlessly, she handed her father the food and her schoolbag, skipping off to her bedroom, orange ringlets flying behind her.
Like the faithful valet, Decker followed several steps behind. Rina got up, went into the kitchen, and started a pot of coffee.
Nervously, she pulled off her head covering and unclipped the barrette holding a ponytail, shaking out a shoulder-length sheet
of iridescent black hair. Then she tied it up again, but left the head covering off. She picked imaginary dirt off her jeans
skirt, then moved on to the imaginary lint on her pink sweater. She gnawed the edge of her thumb, but that only made the hangnail
worse.


Decker came back in, sat down at their cherry breakfast table—a bit scarred but still rock solid. When he carved it, he had
used the best-quality wood he could find, and it showed. He took off his blue suit jacket and draped it over the back of his
chair. He loosened his tie, then ran a hand through rust-colored hair heavily streaked with white. “What’s with the Levines?”


“It’s not the Levines, Peter; it’s Jonathan’s in-laws, the Liebers— Raisie’s family. There’s been a terrible incident. His
brother-in-law Ephraim was found dead—”


“Oh no!”

“Murdered, Peter. They found him in some seedy hotel room in upper Manhattan. To add to the confusion, he was with his fifteen-

year-old niece—his brother’s daughter. Now, she’s missing. The family’s in shambles.”


“When did all this happen?”

“I just hung up with Jonathan about five minutes before you came home. I think they found the body around three hours ago.”

Decker looked at his watch. “Around 4 P.M. New York time?”


“I guess.”

“What was this guy doing in a ‘seedy hotel room’ with his fifteen-year-old niece in the middle of a school afternoon?”

A rhetorical question. Rina didn’t answer. Instead, she gave Decker a slip of paper with Jonathan’s phone number.

“It’s horrible.” Decker fingered the paper. “I feel terrible for them. But this call… Is it just a comfort call? I mean, Jon
doesn’t expect me to do anything, does he?”


“I don’t know, Peter. I suppose he’d like you to work miracles. In lieu of that, maybe you should call him up and listen to
what happened.”


“He can’t expect me to go out there.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. You have a pretty good track record.”

“A prisoner of my own success. I have a job, Rina. As much as my heart goes out to them—it truly is horrible—I can’t leave at a moment’s notice and run off to Boro Park.”


“Actually, Chaim Lieber and his family live in Quinton, which is upstate. His widowed father lives there as well. Jonathan’s
wife, Raisie, is Chaim’s younger sister. It’s Chaim’s daughter who’s missing.”


“In upstate?” Decker thought a moment. “Is the family religious?”

“Yes. Quinton is a very religious enclave. The family’s black hat, superreligious except for Raisie. She’s Conservative like
Jonathan.”


“The outcast,” Decker said.

“She and Jonathan were lucky to find each other.” Rina got up and poured two cups of coffee. “They both came from the same
background and have altered their lifestyles for similar reasons.”


“And her father lives in Quinton. By himself?”

“I believe so. Raisie’s mother died around ten years ago. Don’t you remember their talking about her memory at Jonathan’s
wedding?”



“No, but I wasn’t paying close attention.” Decker stared at the number. “Why don’t you tend to Hannah while I do this?”


“Don’t want me hanging over your shoulder?”

He stood up. “I don’t know what I want.” He gave Rina a kiss on the forehead. “I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to make this phone call.”


Rina took his hand and squeezed it. “Why don’t you talk from the bedroom? That way I can get dinner started.”

“Fine. I’m starved. What are we having?”

“Lamb chops or salmon?”

“I get a choice?”

“Both are fresh. Whatever you don’t want, I’ll freeze.”

“Hannah hates fish.”

“She hates lamb chops, too. I have some leftover schnitzel for her.”

“Lamb chops, then.” Decker made a face, then went inside the bedroom and closed the door. He kicked off his shoes and stretched
out on his California king bed, dialing the number. It wasn’t Jonathan’s home phone in Manhattan, so Decker figured that it
must be either his cell or possibly his synagogue, located near Columbia University. His half brother was a Conservative-pulpit
rabbi. On the sixth ring, he answered.


“Jon!” Decker said.

“Akiva!” A loud whoosh of air. “Thank you so much for calling!”

“My God, Rina just told me. That’s terrible! You must be going through hell!”

“Not as bad as my wife’s family. At this point, we’re all shell-shocked.”

“I’m sure you are. When did this happen?”

“About three hours ago. About four o’clock here.”

“Jeez. And what do the police say?”

“Not much of anything. That’s the problem. What does that mean?”

“It means they probably don’t know much.”

“Or aren’t telling us anything.”

“That could be. I’m so sorry.”

There was silence over the line. Jonathan said, “You didn’t ask how it happened.”


“If you want to tell me the details, I’m here.”


“I don’t want to burden you.…”

But that’s exactly what he was going to do. “Tell me what’s going on, Jon. Start at the beginning. Tell me about the family.”

“Oh my.” A sigh. “Raisie comes from a family of five—two boys, three girls. Both of her brothers are older. Chaim is the eldest,
then Ephraim, the one who was… murdered. Raisie’s the oldest daughter. Chaim Joseph is a typical oldest son…reliable, responsible.
He and his wife, Minda, have seven children. He’s a good man who has always worked hard in the family business.”


“Which is?”

“Several retail electronic stores in Brooklyn… one on the Lower East Side. You know, TVs, stereos, cameras, computers, mobile
phones, DVDs, etcetera. The second brother, Ephraim Boruch…the one who this happened to… he’s had some problems in the past.”


“What kind of problems?”

“Relationship problems—married and divorced.”

“Kids?”

“None.”

Silence.

“And?” Decker prompted.

“Drug problems,” Jonathan admitted. “Addiction and rehab.”

“That probably had a lot to do with his relationship problems.”

“No doubt. Ephraim has been divorced for ten years. His ex is out of the picture. She remarried and now lives in Israel. As
for Ephraim, he’s straightened himself out. He’s been sober for the last two years. About that time, he also joined the family
business with his older brother.”


“How’s that working out?”

“Fine, as far as I know. He was always the favorite uncle of all the nieces and nephews. He especially got along well with
his niece Shaynda, who is the oldest in Chaim’s family.”


“The missing niece.”

“Yes, the missing niece. Shaynda, like Ephraim, has a rebellious streak. She has been typecast as the problem child in the
family since grade school. She’s a beautiful girl, Akiva, with incredible spirit, and
maybe that’s part of the problem. She has not walked the walk or talked the talk.”


“Specifically?”

“Skipping school, hanging out at the mall with public-school kids. A couple of times, she had sneaked out of the house at
night. My brother and sister-in-law came down on her with an iron fist. Unfortunately, the tougher they got, the more Shayndie
fought. She and the mother have a miserable relationship. But the shining light had been Uncle Ephraim. He and Shayndie seemed
to have had this rapport. More and more, she began to confide in him. They began spending time together—”


“Hmm…”

“I know what you’re thinking. I would have sworn up and down that it wasn’t that at all.”

“Wasn’t what?”

“That he wasn’t molesting her. When they first started spending time, I thought it was odd—the amount of time they spent together.
So did Raisie. We had a long talk with Shaynda because we figured no one else would. We asked her point-blank. When she said
no— she seemed genuinely shocked—we gave a step by step of what to be aware of. After the conversation, both Raisie and I
were satisfied that Ephraim really had the girl’s interest at heart. We had no reason to suspect that Ephraim was anything
more than just a loving uncle trying to reach out to his troubled niece.”


“But now you think differently.”

A long sigh. “Maybe. The two of them were supposed to be going on an outing this morning… to the Met. To see the new Dutch/
Vermeer exhibit.”


“This morning?” Decker paused. “It’s Thursday. She doesn’t have school?”

“I don’t know, Akiva. Maybe her mother gave her the day off. Maybe her allergies were acting up. I didn’t think it appropriate
to question my sister-in-law.”


“Of course. Go on.”

Jonathan stuttered a few times, trying to get the words out. “Ephraim was found dead in a hotel room. Did Rina tell you that?”


“Yes.”


“He’d been shot, Akiva. He was also… naked.”

“Good Lord!”

“I know. It’s awful!”

“Any sign of the girl? Clothes left behind? Personal effects… like a purse, maybe?”

“Nothing that I’ve heard.”

“Any sign of a struggle? Torn sheets? Things in disarray?” Decker licked his lips. “Blood other than from…” He wanted to say
the kill spot. “Blood other than where Ephraim was shot?”


“I wouldn’t know. The police aren’t saying much. They claim that they’re just gathering information at this point, but we
all know what they’re thinking.”


Defensiveness in his voice, but it was seasoned with anguish. Decker said, “And what are the police thinking?”

“That somehow we’re guilty. Of course, they have to ask the family lots of questions. But they’ve made all of us feel more
like criminals than like victims. Believe me, Akiva, I didn’t want to call you. I know it’s unfair of me to call you. But
no one here is able to handle this. Is there anything—anything at all—that you can say to advise us?”


Decker’s head was awhirl.

Jonathan added in a gush of words, “And if it’s not too difficult, perhaps you could make a couple of calls? As one detective
to another.”


The words hung in the air.

Jonathan said, “I shouldn’t be asking you this—”

“It’s all right, Jon. I just have to think for a moment.”

“Take all the time…”

Decker closed his eyes and felt a headache coming on. “Can I call you back in a few minutes?”

“Of course—”

Decker clicked off the line before his brother could add another obligation. He went to the bathroom, took two Advils, then
treated himself to a needle-hot shower. Ten minutes later, he slipped on soft worn denims and a work shirt. With trepidation,
he punched the phone’s redial button.



“Hello?”


“Okay, Jon, listen up. First thing you need to do is hire a lawyer.”

“Hire a lawyer?” Surprise in his voice. “Why?”

“Because you don’t like the way the police are questioning you. You need protection.”

“But won’t that make us look bad?”

“It will raise a couple of eyebrows, sure. But weighing the pros and the cons, it’s no debate. Go out and find the best criminal
defense attorney in town, and see if you can get an appointment with him ASAP. See if he’ll take you on if things get… complicated.
You’ve got to entertain the real possibility that someone in your family knows more about this than he or she is letting on.”


“I can’t accept that.”

“Fine. Don’t accept that. Just listen to me, okay? And don’t talk to the police without an attorney present. Just as a precaution.”

No response.

Decker tried to hide his irritation. “Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Sorry. I’m writing this down. Go on.”

Decker slowed it down. “Jon, I don’t mean to snap at you. I’m used to barking orders.”

“It’s fine, Akiva. Believe me, it’s wonderful to talk to you… to someone who knows what he’s doing.”

“That remains to be seen. After you’ve talked to a lawyer, have him call me. I’ll talk to him directly.”

“That’s it?”

“For the time being.”

“What about the police, Akiva?”

“Let me talk to the lawyer first. New York law is different than L.A. law, and it would help all of you if I didn’t act precipitously.”

There was a long silence. Decker knew what was coming.

Jonathan said, “I know this is dreadfully wrong to ask, Akiva. But it would really help us out if you could maybe…”

“Come out for the weekend?” Decker completed the sentence.

“I’ll understand if you say no.”

Decker said, “Let me call you back in five, all right?”

“Akiva, thank you so much—”


“Wait until you get my answer before you thank me.” Decker hung up. Rina was standing at the doorway. “You’ve been listening?”


“Just for a minute. I think you gave him good advice—about the lawyer.”

“I’m glad you approve. He wants me to come out there. What do you think?”

“I can’t make that decision for you, Peter.”

“I know that. But I still want to know what you think.”

“How do you feel about flying?”

Decker shrugged. “It’s a big hassle now, but I’m not nervous if that’s what you’re asking.”

“If you don’t go,” Rina said, “you’ll feel guilty.”

He cursed under his breath, soft enough that it wasn’t offensive, but loud enough so Rina could hear. “It isn’t fair to get
me involved.”


“No, it isn’t.”

“It’s a family member. If I uncover muck or deliver bad news, I’m going to get blamed.”

“Probably.”

“Definitely.” Decker smoothed his mustache, chewing on the ends. It was the one part of his body where his hair was still
predominantly red as opposed to gray. “On the other hand, it’s not just a murder. There’s a missing girl.” Decker filled in
some of the blanks to the story, watching his wife grow paler by the moment. “The girl might have been a hidden witness to
the murder. Or maybe she escaped before the whole thing happened. That would be the most favorable outcome.”


No one spoke. Decker rubbed his forehead.

“Dinner’s ready,” Rina said softly. “Can you eat?”

“Not a problem. What do I tell Jonathan?”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart.” She sat down next to him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” He looked at the ceiling. “I suppose I could hunt around for a few days. By then maybe she’ll turn up… one
way or the other.” He faced his wife and kissed her cheek. “How many miles do we have?”


“Actually, I have enough for you to fly free. Interestingly enough, I also have a companion ticket for Hannah and me if we
do a
Saturday-night stayover.” She patted his hand. “And we do have two sons back East—”


“Just hold on!” Decker interrupted. “My flying is one thing. You and Hannah are quite another thing.”

“I haven’t seen the boys in a while,” Rina told him. “I’d much rather fly with you than by myself.” She patted his cheek.
“You’re a tough guy.”


“Real tough.” It had been a while since they had seen the boys. “You’d like to come with me?”


“Yes, I would love to come with you.”

Decker thought a moment. “I have a condition. Promise me you won’t get involved.”

“Good heavens, why would I do that! I wouldn’t dare take any chances as long as Hannah’s with me.” She gave him a swat on
his backside. “Go call back Jonathan. I’ll make the reservations on the other line.”


With great reluctance, Decker called back his half brother. After working out a few more details, he walked into the kitchen,
where Rina had just hung up on the land phone.


“Jonathan wants to know when we think we’ll be arriving.”

“I’ve booked us on the red-eye.”

“When?”

“Tonight—”

“Tonight?”

“It’s Thursday, Peter. If we don’t take the red-eye, we won’t be able to leave until Saturday night, because I won’t fly on
Friday in case of delays. Too close to Shabbos. Besides, I figured you’d want maximum time out there.”


“Well, then, I’m going to have to start making phone calls.”

Rina could overhear Jonathan telling him to forget it if it was too hard. Decker interrupted him. “We’ll be there around six
in the morning.”


“Give me the flight number,” Jonathan said. “I’ll be there. Even though it’s been eight years, you won’t have any trouble
recognizing me. I’ll be the one with the sheepish look on my face.”





Decker pushed his seat tray up in the locked position. “Why do I have to use up my vacation time doing this?”


“Because you’re a caring person?” Rina tried out.

“No, it’s because I’m an idiot,” he snarled as he moved about in his seat, trying to get his long legs comfortable. Flying
under the best of circumstances was now an ordeal. And this certainly wasn’t the best of circumstances. “I despise molestation
cases—”


“Can you keep your voice down?”

Decker glanced around. People were staring at him.

Rina whispered, “You don’t know it’s that.”


“Yes, I do know. The uncle was a sleazeball—”

“Peter, please!” Rina pointed to Hannah.

“She’s sleeping.”

“She still hears things.”

“I’m resentful.”

“I know that. I am, too.”

Decker looked at her. “You are?”

“Yes, I am. People take advantage of me because I’m such a softy. I’d like to say no, but then I’d feel bad about it. What
can I do? It’s the way I am. I was born with a ‘sucker’ gene.”


“You and me both, darling.” Decker made a face. “We’ll give it a few days. In the meantime, we’ll see the boys. That’s not
so bad.”


“No, that’s the good part. Sammy’s no problem because he’s in the city. Yonkie has a bit more arranging to do, but he swears
he’ll be with us for the weekend.”


“You’re excited.”

“Of course. So are their grandparents. They’re beside themselves with joy.”

Rina’s late husband’s parents. Not his family. What the heck? They were nice people who had endured a horrible loss. “At least
I’m making someone happy.”


Rina patted his hand. “Being with you, Peter. That’s the good part, too.”

“You have this way of dissipating my anger.”

“Then why do you look so sour?”

“But sometimes I like being angry. You’re robbing me of one of my few pleasures.”


“Don’t worry,” Rina told him. “After dealing with New York City traffic, Jonathan’s family, my family, and Jews in general,
I’m sure you’ll have plenty to be angry about.”



They arrived at JFK on time, and ghastly tired, trudging out of a terminal now armed with men and women in camouflage, holding M16 rifles—standard army
issue. Not only was Decker bug-eyed from lack of sleep, but also he had gone back to the station house to finish up paperwork
before he left for the airport. After rearranging schedules and appointments, he had managed to take off four days from work,
coming back late Wednesday night. The most pressing business—a recent string of convenience-store robberies—was now under
control with two perps in custody. Mike Masters and Elwin Boyd were handling that one. Dunn and Oliver could take care of
the scheduled meeting with the D.A. in the Harrigan carjacking. As they were the lead detectives, they knew more about the
case than Decker did. The Beltran arraignment for the GTAs wasn’t scheduled until he got back. While Decker was gone, his
pickup could be handled by Bert Martinez—now Detective Sergeant Bert Martinez—who had been promoted just three months ago.


Rina had planned the trip’s itinerary. The trio would leave New York Monday night, then spend two days with Decker’s aging
parents in Florida. Visiting them was something he should have done a while ago. Perhaps this unplanned trek was a wake-up
call in disguise.


Jonathan was waiting for them at the baggage counter. He was thinner than Decker had remembered, his brother’s beard now equal
portions of brown and gray. Bleary red-rimmed eyes tried to focus
under small wire-rimmed glasses. But his dress was sharp—a blue tone-on-tone, windowpane suit, white shirt, and a bright gold
tie woven in a chevron pattern. After a round of genuine hugs and kisses—the appropriate cooing at Hannah, who was grumpy
and groggy—Decker commented on his sartorial splendor.


“That’s because we have an appointment in forty-five minutes,” Jonathan replied. “You said get a great criminal defense lawyer,
and that’s what I did. He also happens to be a frum Yid. Early morning was the only time he could work us in. He’s noted for discounting his time for Jews in trouble. But, as
I talked to him, I could tell that he was intrigued by the case. I think he’s curious to meet you.”


Decker grabbed a big black valise off the conveyor belt. Thank goodness for frames with wheels. “One more bag. Why is he curious
to meet me?”


“Because you’re a cop… on the other side, so to speak.”

“That’s our other bag, Peter,” Rina said.

Decker grabbed the second suitcase. They loaded up Jonathan’s dented silver 1993 Chrysler minivan, Rina insisting that Peter
sit in the front. Within a few minutes, they were on their way.


The air was cold and biting—typical March weather, Jonathan told him. Dark rain clouds hung above, heavy and gray like soiled
laundry. Whatever foliage there was had yet to bloom and the naked branches swayed like cobwebs in a brisk wind. The highway
was moving—one less thing to be concerned about—but because of the speed, the van took the potholes with spine-numbing jolts.
To Decker’s eyes, the surrounding area looked worn and depressed—a mixture of old factory buildings, some commercial retail
shops, and unadorned redbrick apartment houses. Graffiti littered the concrete walls of the roadway.


“Where are we?” he asked.

“Queens,” Rina said. “Is this Astoria?”

“Not yet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Decker said. “It all looks the same to me. Tell me more about the Orthodox lawyer.”

“He made time for us, Akiva. Time that he could ill afford considering he’s representing Anna Broughder.”


Anna Broughder. The woman dubbed by the papers as Lizzie Borden II. She had been arrested for killing both of her parents
by hacking them to death with a cleaver. She had claimed it had been done by a group of crazed druggies. Somehow she had escaped
through the bathroom window, sustaining only a few minor scratches to the forearms and one rather large gash to her palm.
A 200-million-dollar inheritance was at stake.


“Leon Hershfield,” Decker stated.

“That’s the one. The case has had coverage in L.A.?”

“Front-page articles.” Decker tried to shake fatigue from his sleep-deprived brain. “I didn’t know Hershfield was religious.”

“He doesn’t wear a kippah in court, but he’s self-identified as modern Orthodox.” Jonathan tapped the wheel. “He’s defended all the biggies. He’s well
connected.”


Decker glanced at Rina. “Connected, as in Joseph Donatti.”

“Among others,” Jonathan countered.

“But Donatti was his biggest triumph.” The mobster had been indicted on three counts of murder along with lesser charges of
fraud and racketeering. After the third hung jury, the state declined to