So he leaves the parking lot and drives a short distance along Abbot Road and then enters Pine Grove. He drives along and sees the smashed car with what appeared to be a dead man, certainly an unconscious one, behind the wheel, and dangling out of the side of the car the man’s hand with what looked like a gold bracelet. Again Fate appeared to be handing him something on a platter. Quite possibly, he didn’t even leave his car. He may have edged close to the smashed car, rolled his window down, seized the wrist, and pulled the watch off. Then he had flung down the arm, perhaps in violent disgust because it was bloody, and driven off.
He leaned back in his chair and stretched luxuriously, deciding that it had been a good day and perhaps he’d take Amy out to dinner to celebrate.
It was with great satisfaction that he started for home, but as he neared the street on which the rabbi lived, it occurred to him that he ought to tell him that perhaps Professor Jacobs was now probably in the clear. After all, there was no sense in upsetting Lerner unnecessarily. He turned into the street and slowed down as he approached the rabbi’s house. But there were a couple of cars in the driveway and one parked directly in front of the house. Must be a party, he thought, and drove on. He could make contact tomorrow.
38
It was afternoon when Lanigan finished with the arraignment of Dorfbetter and headed back to the station house. But it occurred to him that he ought to tell the rabbi that he now had another suspect so that he could pass the information on to Lerner. In all probability the rabbi was at the temple, but since he was at the moment near the rabbi’s house, he drove up to it.
“David home?” he asked when Miriam opened the door in response to his ring.
“Come in and have a cup of tea. David is in his study, but he’ll be out in a moment.”
“If he’s busy—” Lanigan began.
“Oh no, he’s napping. He likes to lie down after lunch for a short siesta. It’s a habit he picked up in Israel. I suspect when he’s at his study in the temple, he dozes off in his chair.”
When the rabbi appeared a moment later, yawning and stretching, Lanigan asked in sarcastic politeness, “You awake and ready to face the world?”
“Oh, hello, Chief. Very refreshing, a nap after lunch, but I heard you ring.”
“Nice business if you can get it. You spoken to Lerner yet?”
“No, not yet. I expect he’s planning to come to the evening service. I’ll speak to him then.”
“Well, maybe you can give him some good news when you see him. We’ve got another and more likely suspect.”
“More likely how?”
“With Jacobs we had motive and opportunity, but no hard evidence, but with this one we have positive evidence. He had the missing watch.”
“Is that so!”
“Yup, he was wearing it. Pure accident, to be sure, but if we didn’t get the breaks occasionally, an awful lot of cases wouldn’t get solved. You remember I sent a man up to the scene of the accident to rake over the area? Naturally, I described the watch to him so he’d know what he was looking for. Well, Officer Phelps, the raker, was on the cruising car yesterday. He stops a car for passing a red light, and he notices that the driver is wearing a watch just like the one I had described. So while his partner is checking for license and registration, Phelps calls me at the station house. Come to think of it, you were there when the call came in.”
“So that’s why you hustled me out.”
“Uh-huh.” He went on to tell of his interviews with Dorfbetter. “One of those hippy types with long hair, an earring, and wearing those baggy pants that narrow down and wrinkle at the ankle. When he said he’d found it under a hedge in front of an apartment house on Beacon Street near Coolidge Corner, Sergeant Dunstable gave me a sign, and I figured we had confirmatory evidence against Jacobs because it could be his house. So now I wanted to be very careful. I wanted positive identification that this was Joyce’s watch.”
“But didn’t it match the description that Mrs. Joyce gave you?”
“Sure, but what if it should turn out to be a regular trade item for tourists to Rome? Besides, there were a couple of questions I wanted to ask her, like where she’d been the night of the accident. There was no answer when the desk sergeant called to notify her.”
“And?”
“She’d been to a movie in Breverton, then bumped into some people she knew, and they’d gone someplace for coffee, so she didn’t get home until almost midnight.”
The rabbi raised his eyebrows. “She’d gone alone?”
“Surprised? Me, too. But it tended to confirm a rumor I had heard, that the marriage was on the rocks and she was planning to get a divorce.”
“A divorce? How could she? Didn’t you tell me that she was very devout?”
“A civil divorce and a Church-sanctioned separation,” Lanigan explained. “So I asked her and she admitted it. In fact, they had been living apart, although in the same house, for some time.”
“And her folks, her uncle and aunt, didn’t know about it?”
“She said she thought her aunt did, but she didn’t think her uncle did.”
“I would think that if the aunt knew about it, then the uncle did, too. He may have been better able to conceal his emotions, however,” said the rabbi dryly.
“You may be right. Anyway, the widow had identified the watch, which was what I came for, so I went back to the station house, and found that Dunstable had gone out to the Leaming house on Lowell Road, to see if Dorfbetter’s key fit. That’s what he said, but our Dunstable can be kind of devious at times, and I suspect he was planning to have a look around on the chance of finding a shirt with bloodstains, perhaps. He took Bob Sterling with him, and while he was trying the front door, Sterling went up the driveway where there was a car parked under a tarpaulin. Sterling lifted the edge of the tarp, and what do you know, it was Merton’s car, which had been stolen from the mall parking lot that night.” He went on to tell, with great self-satisfaction, how he had had the car brought down to the station house and placed where Dorfbetter could see it. “Well, that broke it. I read him his rights and then arrested him for the theft of a motor vehicle.”
“He confessed?”
“No, he clammed up and refused to say a word without his lawyer present. So we locked him up and brought him down to the court for arraignment. As far as I was concerned, I had my case. He took the car, maybe just for a joyride, drove up Pine Grove—”
“Why to Pine Grove?”
“Because it was a big, flashy car with a license number that was easily remembered. On Pine Grove he wasn’t likely to be seen by a cop with an eye out for a stolen car. As he drives up he sees a wreck with a dead man or an unconscious man at the wheel, his hand sticking out the window with what looks like a gold bracelet on the wrist. My guess is that he didn’t even get out. He probably just drove up, lowered his window and grabbed the watch, and scooted.”
“Why didn’t he notify the police?” asked the rabbi. “He wouldn’t have had to identify himself.”
Lanigan shrugged. “Oh, that type, they’re just interested in themselves.”
“Are you sure you’re not convicting him in your mind because of his lifestyle?”
“How do you mean?”
“The long hair and the earring, the general appearance, isn’t that affecting your judgment of his guilt?”
Lanigan considered. “I suppose it does to some extent,” he admitted. “It’s normal. We all do it. Weren’t you doing it when you came to see me about Jacobs, because he was one of your own?”
“I suppose I was. As you say, we all do it, but it can interfere with our thinking.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got good solid evidence on this one.”
“Well, I’ll admit that it strains the bounds of credulity that he found the nephew’s watch in Brookline and then took the uncle’s car in Barnard’s Crossing.”
Lanigan got up to leave. “I drove by here yesterday to tell you the good news so you could p
ass it on to Lerner, but there were a bunch of cars in front of your house, so I thought maybe you were having some sort of party, and drove on.”
“Oh, that was very good of you. It wasn’t a party, just a committee meeting. I will probably see Lerner at the evening service and—”
“Tell him? No need to,” said Lanigan, grinning broadly. “I saw him at the courthouse.”
39
The phone rang just as the rabbi was on his way to the evening service. Miriam answered as the rabbi waited at the door. It was Simcha. “Miriam? Simcha. I’ve been so busy. It’s the first chance I’ve had to call you. Look, something’s come up and I won’t be able to come out to Barnard’s Crossing before Wednesday. A favorite pupil of mine lives in the city, and he insists I have dinner with him Tuesday night, so—”
“Wednesday will be fine, Simcha. You call us and let us know which train you’re taking and David will meet you at the station.”
“Is David there?”
“Just a minute.” She handed the instrument to the rabbi.
“Yes, Simcha, we’ll be seeing you Wednesday, I gather.”
“That’s right. You didn’t happen to see that fellow we met on our way back from the temple, did you?”
“Herb Rosen? No, but I expect to see him at the minyan tonight.”
“Well, if you do, and you happen to think of it—”
“You’d like me to ask him if he has a brother who went to the University of Chicago. All right, I will. And if he doesn’t happen to come to the minyan tonight, I’ll see that you meet him when you come Wednesday.”
“It’s a silly business, David, but you know how sometimes your mind gets fixed on something.”
“I understand. See you Wednesday.”
“What was all that about Herb Rosen?” asked Miriam curiously when he hung up.
“Oh, we bumped into him on our way back from the temple last Sunday. Simcha was sure he knew him, thought he might have taken a course with him, or at least had seen him around the university. When Rosen told him he’d never gone to the University of Chicago, Simcha thought maybe he has a brother who went there.”
“Why is Simcha so concerned?”
“I suppose because he’s an old man. He finds himself forgetting things and misplacing things. He probably thinks it represents deterioration, so it bothers him.”
“He must have seen him at the Donut Shop.”
“Why at the Donut Shop?”
“Because it was the only place he could have seen him. He was dropped off there, and it was there that we picked him up. That was all he saw of Barnard’s Crossing, so if he saw someone, it had to be there.”
“But what was Rosen doing there?”
“Buying doughnuts, or having a cup of coffee, or a sundae.”
The rabbi shook his head. “No, according to Lanigan, he ended the rehearsal early because he was expecting a call from his daughter on the West Coast.”
“Well, you ask him, and you’ll see.”
“All right, I will.”
When the rabbi arrived at the temple, he noted with satisfaction that Rosen was there, but since the service was on the point of beginning, he was unable to speak to him. As soon as it was over, however, he approached him and said, “I see you made it, Mr. Rosen.”
“Oh, I make a point of saying Kaddish for my father. I haven’t missed once since he died. I feel I owe it to him.”
“You’re not saying it for him, you know,” the rabbi pointed out.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, if you read it over, you’ll see that there is no mention of the departed.”
“I’m afraid my Hebrew is not up to it.”
“It’s not in Hebrew; it’s in Aramaic. But there’s an English translation on the opposite page in your prayer book. You will find that it is a doxology, an elaborate praise of God. When you consider that the mourner’s Kaddish is recited only in the course of a public service, never when praying alone, and that it is said aloud, unlike our normal way of praying, you’ll realize that what you’re saying in effect is that although you have lost someone who is dear to you, you reaffirm your faith in God.”
Rosen smiled. “I suppose that’s the rationale of the ritual, but I’m a musician, and it’s feelings and emotion that are important. So I do it for my father.”
The rabbi smiled. “You do it for whatever reason suits you, as long as you do it.” As the other was about to turn away, he said, “Oh, Mr. Rosen, were you at the Donut Shop last Saturday night?”
“Yeah, I stopped off on my way home from rehearsal. How did you know?”
“I suspect my cousin saw you, and that’s why he thought he knew you.”
“Oh, he was there, was he? At one of the tables, I suppose.”
“That’s right. I wonder why he happened to notice you of all who were there.”
“Probably because I was the only adult present.”
“What do you mean?”
“The place was full of high school kids, celebrating after the big basketball game. I came in with Cyrus Merton, the real estate guy, but he scooted down the side aisle to the john in the back, so your cousin didn’t see him. I went straight to the doughnut counter.”
“You mean you were with Merton?”
“No, we met at the door, got there at the same time. We did an Alphonse and Gaston act at the door for a few seconds. Then he entered and I followed, and went right to the doughnut counter.”
As the rabbi came out to the parking lot, he saw Ben Clayman sitting in his car. “I thought I might just catch you,” said Clayman. “Morris Fisher is back in the hospital. I thought you’d like to know.”
“Is it bad?”
Clayman shrugged. “All I know is his doctor saw him this morning and ordered him to the hospital. You think you could go to see him?”
“He’s at the Salem Hospital?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, tomorrow is my day for going to the Salem Hospital. I’ll look in on him.”
“Swell. I don’t see your car in the parking lot, Rabbi. Can I give you a lift home?”
“No thanks. I think I’d like to walk.”
“Well, was he, or wasn’t he?” Miriam asked as the rabbi closed the door behind him.
“Was he or wasn’t he what? What are you talking about, Miriam?” the rabbi asked irritably.
“Was Herb Rosen at the Donut Shop, or wasn’t he? You said you’d ask him. Did you forget, or didn’t he come to the minyan?”
“Oh, I asked him. And you were right; he was there buying doughnuts.” He went to the telephone.
“Are you calling Simcha to set his poor mind at ease?”
He smiled grimly. “No, I’m not setting any minds at ease. I’m calling Lanigan, and I expect it will upset him.”
He dialed, and when Lanigan answered, he said, “David Small here, Chief. I think I know where Dorfbetter got the watch, and it wasn’t from Joyce.”
“No? Then where—no, don’t tell me. Hold it. I’m coming over.”
As soon as Miriam opened the door to him, and he caught sight of the rabbi in the living room, Lanigan demanded, “All right, David, what’ve you got?”
“I saw Mr. Rosen at our evening service tonight.”
“Herb Rosen?”
“Yes, the one who conducts the orchestra Amy belongs to. He said he’d been in the Donut Shop last Saturday night.”
“So? I knew that. What about it? He left the rehearsal at the same time we did, and the two cars were within sight of each other until we reached Abbot Road, where we took the left lane to make the turn, but he drove up on the next lane beside us. He said he was going to stop off to get some doughnuts.”
“What time was that? Do you know?”
“I didn’t look at my watch, but let’s see, we left the junior high where he holds the rehearsals a little before ten. He stopped a little earlier than usual because he said he had to get home for a phone call from his daughter. So, it was probably
just about half past ten when we got to the lights and I turned off.”
“He said he got to the door of the Donut Shop and was heading out just as Cyrus Merton was coming in. In fact, as he put it, they did an Alphonse and Gaston act at the door.”
“So?”
“So how did he get there?”
“I told you how, he came down the state road—”
“Not Rosen, Merton. How did Merton get there at half past ten?”
“I don’t—what are you driving at, David?”
“The country club and the junior high school are about the same distance from the state road. One is on the right-hand side of the road and the other on the left, but they’re about the same distance away. Rosen leaves a little before ten, but Merton leaves sometime after ten. You were very definite about that: only two men, Joyce and Jacobs, left the country club dinner before ten. So if Merton left after ten, how did he get to the Donut Shop at the same time that Rosen did? The only way he could was to use the Pine Grove Road. And I think, under the circumstances, it would be the road he’d be likely to take, because he knew Joyce had been drinking. If Joyce got into some trouble, an accident of some sort on the state road, someone would be sure to come along in a minute or two. But if he got into an accident on Pine Grove, on a foggy, misty night at that, it might be an hour or more before another car came along. So Merton chose the Pine Grove Road. And in that case, he must have seen the wreck with Joyce’s hand sticking out of the broken window. Maybe his first thought was to remove the watch lest someone come along and take it. But then why didn’t he report the accident to the police? Which suggests the alternative I pointed out to you when you first told me about the accident.”
The Day the Rabbi Resigned Page 21