It had been a show of trust that Rivi had even allowed Penina into her house

“And did he seem comfortable in the Cohen family house?” Detective Jimenez asks, his thick brows curving inward as he takes notes. “As though he belonged there?”

Penina blinks at him. “I mean, he’d been living in it for, like, twenty years when I first visited. I think he was probably pretty comfortable by then.” She’s useless as an interview subject, but she mostly came for moral support. The cops are interviewing everyone who knew Avigdor Cohen, but it’s a short list.

He’d kept to himself, and they’ve only just hit the tip of the iceberg as to why. The cops had gone to speak to a few people he’d worked for over the years and a couple of neighbors, but today, they’re finally meeting with the only two individuals who might be helpful: his son and daughter.

Penina had spent plenty of time at Rivi’s house when they were in college together, so she’s participating, too. “He was a weird guy,” she concedes. “He didn’t really talk to me. Spent a lot of time reading or doing big jigsaw puzzles on the kitchen table. I remember avoiding the kitchen a lot when I was there because it was so awkward. He would ask me questions about Rivi — like how she was doing, what she was up to — even though she was in the house, too.”

Detective Jimenez makes a note. “He wasn’t close with his daughter?”

Answering this feels like a violation of Rivi’s privacy, except that Rivi herself had asked Penina to come and answer whatever questions she could. Penina tries to keep it vague. “When she was younger, I think they were. But Rivi kind of… I guess she recognized that her house wasn’t normal. She resented her father for it. By the time I met Rivi, they were barely speaking.”

It had been a show of trust that Rivi had even allowed Penina into her house, and it had only happened because Penina’s parents had made aliyah while she was finishing up school and her housing situation had gotten complicated for a semester.