The man was five ten, his face hidden behind a thick pelt of beard and side-curls. He wore the requisite uniform—black suit, white shirt, and black hat. His tzitzit—prayer fringes—were peeking out from under his shirt. He fingered them vigorously as he eyed the gold badge. Decker said, “Excuse me, I’m looking for the offices of VerHauten Corporation. I was told they are located around here, but I can’t seem to find them in any building directory.” The religious man was confused. “VerHauten corporate headquarters is in South Africa.” “How about their local subsidiary offices?” Marge said. Again, the man squinted. “They don’t have any offices here.” “Maybe they’re not listed under the name VerHauten. Some sort of satellite office, perhaps.” The Chasid shrugged. “Nothing I’m aware of.” He turned and spoke to another of his ilk, the two men dressed identically. “Eli, do you know if VerHauten has a local office here?” “In LA?” Eli shook his head.
