“This guy sounds like a piece of work.” Warner leans back in his seat. “You think he was some kind of Russian spy?”

“Say that this is why Moish Garfinkel went into hiding.” Penina drums her fingers against her keyboard, contemplating the screen. “He was a criminal and got caught. It’s not unheard of in the frum community.”

“For a millionaire? Sure. For a security guard? Not a lot of white-collar crime there.” Hillel leans back against the cubicle wall.

Thursday is an in-office day, when most of the remote workers are expected to be present and there are tedious team meetings and occasional trainings. Daniel has an extended weekend off for President’s Day, so she had to bring him in today. There are a dozen reasons why today was never going to be a productive day.

And that’s why she’s here mulling over the Garfinkel mystery instead of attempting to get any work done. “Stealing a medal from Town Hall doesn’t really scream ‘white-collar crime’ to me. And what’s the get? They didn’t display it or sell it. They just stuck it in a drawer somewhere. It’s like—” She presses her lips together, considering the situation. “It’s like they did it just to see if they could.”

“We see that all the time,” offers Warner, the coworker in the next cubicle. Today, with so many people around, she can’t keep her theories private. Fortunately, Warner lives an hour away, in Staten Island, and Penina isn’t concerned that he might spread the information around Lenape Falls. “People start small, just for the thrill of it. Then they escalate. If your guy was stealing mementos from Town Hall, he wouldn’t stop there.”

Hillel, as always, looks enthused at the idea of more drama. “Unless he was drafted into some secret government program. Maybe that’s why he had to change his name.”

“Maybe.” Penina is unconvinced. “But why would the CIA or the FBI have him assume his best friend’s identity? Wouldn’t it be easier to give him an entirely new one? They do it all the time.”

“Unless it wasn’t the American government,” Martin suggests, sidling up to Hillel. He perks up when he sees Daniel sitting on the floor, the theory forgotten. “There’s our little man! We have some snacks for you in the office kitchen. From the kosher stock,” he assures Penina, and Daniel leaves his coloring behind to bound after Martin.