Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home

by Harry Kemelman

  They met in his study, and after his preliminary remarks explaining the situation, he left the entire discussion to them. He sat teetering in his swivel chair behind his desk, following the argument as it shifted back and forth among the parents. Gorfinkle, for once, remained uncharacteristically silent, and the rabbi for his part tended to avoid looking in his direction.

  “If he’s going to accuse my child of being mixed up in the murder of this–this football player, then he’s going to have to prove it,” cried Betty Marks’ mother. “The nerve of him to expect me to permit him to question her without a lawyer.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t suspect her, Mrs. Marks,” said Roger Epstein. “He just wants to clear this business up as fast as he can. If we don’t cooperate, he’ll get nowhere, sure, but the case will not be solved.”

  “Well, that’s his lookout,” said Mrs. Marks.

  “No, it’s ours, too. If the case isn’t solved and the murderer found, after a while suspicion may rest on our children, and that won’t do any of them any good.”

  “Besides,” said Mr. Schulman, “the kids did break into that house. No question about it. If we don’t cooperate in this, he can bring a charge on the grounds of breaking and entering. Well, my Gladys has to get back to school; she has exams just as soon as she gets back. Am I going to let her kill a year just to be stubborn? Anyway, I trust my Gladys.”

  “Do you mean that I don’t trust my Betty?”

  “I’m sure you have every reason to, Mrs. Marks,” said Epstein quickly.

  “I think Bill should be able to handle himself,” said Mr. Jacobs. “I’m willing to go along.”

  “Yes, but Bill was one of those who discovered the body,” said Mr. Sussman. “His situation and your Stu’s, Ben, they’re different.”

  “I don’t see that they’re so different,” said Gorfinkle. “Aftter all, Stu never even entered the house until they went back for the other boy.”

  “You mean he’s in the clear, and that’s why you’re so willing,” Mr. Sussman pointed out.

  “We’ll be here all night if we keep on wrangling like this,” said Mr. Arons. “What’s it come down to? Chief Lanigan wants to question our kids all together on an informal basis. He’s certainly got a right to question them, and we’ve got a right to have a lawyer present. So if he questions them individually, don’t you think he’ll get the answers to any questions he wants to ask even if there is a lawyer present? If he doesn’t get it from one, he’ll get it from another. You know, folks, I get the impression that this Lanigan is a sincere guy. I think he’s on the level. I don’t think he’s trying to trap anybody.”

  “It just occurred to me,” said Mr. Sussman. “If there’s no lawyer present, then none of what is said can be used as evidence in court. So maybe we’re better off without a lawyer.”

  “That’s a good point,” said Schulman.

  “That’s right. Maybe Lanigan outsmarted himself.”

  “I still think one of us ought to be present, though.”

  “I don’t know how Lanigan would feel about that,” said Jacobs. “Personally, I wouldn’t care to be the one. I wouldn’t care to be responsible to the rest of you for advising your kids. Suppose one of them said something damaging–”

  “Suppose we got someone who is not involved, someone neutral,” Epstein offered.

  “Like who?”

  “Perhaps”–Mr. Arons turned–“the rabbi here–”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-TWO

  Lieutenant Jennings glanced through the typed sheets and handed them over to his chief. “There’s Paff’s statement, Hugh. Nothing very interesting in it, although it struck me that he was kind of edgy.”

  “Everybody’s edgy when they have to talk to the police,” said Lanigan. “That’s one of the troubles with being a cop.” He read from the statement: “‘QDESTION: What is your interest in Hillson House? ANSWER: I’m thinking of buying it; that is, a group of us are. QUESTION: For what purpose? ANSWER: It’s a business venture.’” Lanigan looked up. “He never told you what it was?”

  “No, Hugh, he acted pretty closed-mouthed about it, and I didn’t feel I had the right to pry, especially when I couldn’t see any connection. After all, if it’s some special deal he naturally wouldn’t want it to get out before he was ready.”

  “Maybe you’re right. But did he say who the group was?”

  “Yeah, later on he mentions at least some of the names. There’s a guy name of Arons who is the father of one of the kids, and there’s Dr. Edelstein–you know him–and there’s a man name of Kallen, Irving Kallen. He was supposed to meet them at the site, but none of them showed, so he drove off.”

  “That’s a little funny,” said Lanigan. “If he got there early, you’d think he’d wait. And if he got there late, he might assume that someone else could be late, and you’d think he’d wait for a few minutes anyway.”

  “Not if you read the statement, Hugh. Edelstein and Arons called earlier to tell him they wouldn’t make it. It was raining so hard he figured Kallen wouldn’t come out either.” He leaned over and pointed to a paragraph on the typescript. “‘I slowed down, saw that no one was there and the house was dark, and drove on.’”

  “Hm–maybe. But still, there’s the business of his bowling alleys–”

  “Gosh, Hugh, bowling is respectable these days. Some alleys have these little tables where you have a bite, and there are even some where women can bring the kids and leave them with a baby-sitter while they bowl. Pool and billiard parlors, the same way. You know that one over at the shopping center? I dropped in there one evening while the missus was shopping in the supermarket, and there was this gal in a mini-skirt stretched out on that table making a shot for the corner pocket. You could see her whole whatsis. I tell you, I just had to get up and leave.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Jennings disregarded his chief’s sarcasm. “Say, do you suppose that’s the deal on Hillson House? He and his friends want to turn it into one of them fancy bowling alleys?”

  “Could be. Still it’s funny about him.”

  “What’s funny?”

  “Well, there’s that call from Kevin O’Connor. Kevin is an idiot, but he’s also a cop. He wouldn’t go asking me about Paff just to gossip. I take it that the Lynn police are really suspicious of that bowling alley of his. Anyway, it’s a coincidence. And his having a key to Hillson House is another. And his driving by there that same night–that’s still another. It’s a lot of coincidences when you come to think of it.”

  “Yeah, but he’s a big man in the community. What could the likes of him have to do with the likes of Moose Carter?”

  “Well, for one thing, Moose worked for him.”

  “So?”

  “So it’s a connection. Suppose, just suppose,” said Lanigan slowly, “Paff were distributing pot. Remember, a lot of kids come into his bowling alleys. Now suppose, just suppose, that after working there for a while, Moose tumbles onto it. You know the sort of kid he was. He wouldn’t notify the police. Oh no, he’d tell Paff and make him cough up for it. All right, Paff goes to Hillson House for this special deal. When his friends don’t show he figures while he’s here he might as well look the place over again. He goes from room to room, and then he sees Moose. Maybe so far the kid only hit him up for small change. Maybe for that package of pot we found on him. But he knows it’s not going to stop there. It’s going to get worse. And then he realizes that he can settle the whole business by just lifting up a corner of the sheet and tucking it in.”

  “You mean he’d kill him to avoid being blackmailed? Seems to me he’d be more apt to wait until the kid actually bore down on him.”

  “Maybe he did. Or look at it this way: Maybe he wouldn’t go out of his way to do anything drastic, but here an opportunity presents itself. All he has to do is tuck in a fold of plastic and walk away.”

  “Beauty! But you’ve got to admit, Hugh, that it’s pretty fanciful. I wouldn’t want to put the arm
on anybody on the basis of that kind of evidence.”

  “Oh, I’m keeping an open mind on the subject. I haven’t written off those kids by a long shot. Remember, they all knew Moose. Any one of them could have done it, girls as well as boys. Maybe some of those girls were sweet on some of the boys and vice versa, And from what I can gather, Moose was cracking wise quite a bit. We know he fooled around with the girls, and maybe someone there didn’t like it So when he passed out–”

  “All right, so now you’ve got the eight kids–no, seven, because the Gorfinkle boy wasn’t there. Are you sure you can’t get him involved?”

  Lanigan disregarded Jennings’ sarcasm. “No, I can’t come up with anything for him. I’d say he was in the clear.”

  “Then I’ll give you one. How about old man Carter?”

  “Carter, the boy’s father?”

  “Stepfather, Hugh.”

  “That’s right. I forgot about that. What difference does it make, though? He adopted him, I suppose. Anyway he brought him up as his own. Who was the boy’s father?”

  Jennings grinned. “He was born over the left. He wasn’t Carter’s boy, that’s for sure. And the old man could never forget it. Whenever he had trouble with him, and there was trouble with the police once or twice, he blamed it on the boy’s birth. He told me once when Moose was involved on a matter of vandalism that it was because he was a child of sin and came of bad seed.”

  “Pretty rotten, that.”

  “Oh, it’s what you’d expect from these religious types. Well, now, that night Carter wasn’t home. When we called, he was just coming in.”

  “I suppose it might be worthwhile knowing where he was,” Lanigan admitted with no great interest. “Anyone else?”

  “There’s the colored fellow, of course.”

  “Well, naturally. He’s probably the one. Still, no harm in checking over the possibles.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-THREE

  The manager of the Lynn alleys greeted Paff with, “Tough about the kid, huh?”

  Paff shook his head regretfully. “It certainly is. A young fellow like that, a good-looking boy, an athlete–”

  “You know, I called his house like you told me, to see why he hadn’t showed, and I spoke to his Ma. When I think that he was probably dead at the time–you know, it kind of gives you the shivers–I mean asking her what time she expects him back and all.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You got somebody else lined up to take his place, Mr. Paff? Because life got to go on, like they say, and I don’t mind working overtime a couple of nights to help you out, but–”

  “I’ll get somebody to relieve you–tomorrow night for sure.”

  “If you’re having trouble getting somebody, there’s this kid that lives right next door to me. He’s smart, knows how to handle himself.”

  “Yeah? What’s he doing now?”

  “Well, right now, he’s not doing much of anything, just sort of looking around.”

  “Well–”

  “I could have him come down tomorrow evening, and you could talk to him.”

  “Right now, I’ve got things pretty well lined up.”

  A customer tapped impatiently on the counter with a coin, and the manager hurried over to wait on him. As he came back he fished in his pocket and brought forth a bit of paper. “Say, I almost forgot. Did a Mr. Kallen get in touch with you the other night? He called right after you left. He said he was supposed to meet you”–he referred to the paper–“at Hillson House. He said he wouldn’t be able to make it. Say, wasn’t that the place that–”

  “Yeah, I spoke to him. Look, er–” he nodded him down to the other end of the counter. “The other night I was kind of upset. I had a tough day, understand?”

  “Sure Mr. Paff. We all have them.”

  “Well, in case anybody comes down to make inquiries–not likely to, you understand, but just in case–I’d rather you wouldn’t mention I was planning to fire the kid. They might get the wrong impression.” He laughed–a deep bass burble. “Hell, I wouldn’t have fired him, not a kid from my hometown.”

  “Sure, Mr. Paff. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

  “I want you to cooperate with them, understand? Tell them everything, but there’s no need to tell them anything unimportant. Now if they should ask when I left here, you remember it was sometime after eight o’clock–”

  “Oh, no, Mr. Paff, it was quite a bit before–”

  “No, it was after, almost quarter past. This friend of yours–you think he’d work out?”

  “Oh, he’s smart, Mr. Paff.”

  “All right, I guess you’re a pretty good judge of character. Tell him to come down tomorrow night, and I’ll put him on.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mr. Paff. You leave him to me, and I’ll show him the ropes. You won’t be sorry.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-FOUR

  Chief Lanigan knew that the youngsters in his living room were there by coercion and that if he tried to appear friendly, they would only mistrust him more. So he tried candor.

  “I won’t ask you to make yourselves comfortable because I know you can’t until this business is cleared up. That would be asking a lot. But there’s coffee here and some cookies and for those who want something cold, Coke. Help yourselves.”

  “I’ll have a cup of coffee,” said Adam Sussman.

  “So will I,” said Bill Jacobs.

  “I’d like a Coke, please,” said Betty Marks.

  Chief Lanigan, with the rabbi helping, passed out drinks and cookies. Then, when they were settled, he began again. “All of you participated in a cookout on the beach at Tarlow’s Point last Monday evening–”

  “Just a minute,” said Jacobs. “There was someone else.”

  “You’re referring to Adam Jenkins?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I asked the Boston police to contact him for us. He lives in a boarding house, and his landlady said he had gone off to New York. We have also contacted the New York police and asked them to look him up for us. In the meantime I’m afraid we’ll have to do without him. Now, sometime during the evening you were joined by Moose Carter. And a little while later Gorfinkle here had to leave to pick up his folks, thus leaving you without transportation when the storm started. You ran for cover to Hillson House, forced a window, and took shelter inside.”

  “Just a minute,” said Adam Sussman. “I’m not admitting anything.”

  Lanigan sighed. “Let’s get one thing straight, Sussman: I’m not trying to trap you. Everything I have said and everything I’m going to say I can prove easily. I’m just trying to find out what happened. The point I was trying to make is that you were all guilty of breaking and entering. Under the circumstances your behavior has some justification. That was a pretty frightening storm. What’s more, it seems that you did nothing but take shelter. There is no evidence of vandalism, and as far as we can make out, nothing was taken. But it was breaking and entering, and I can hold you for it.” He looked around at them pointedly.

  “That’s blackmail, isn’t it?” said Jacobs.

  “Yes,” said Lanigan pleasantly.

  “So what do you want to know?”

  “Let’s start from the beginning.”

  “All right, so you, Jacobs, and Sussman marched him into the study,” said Lanigan. “Just a minute.” He went to the hall closet and came back with a package. “I stopped off at the hardware store earlier and got one of those plastic drop cloths. It’s just about the size of the plastic dust cover in the study at Hillson House.” He unfolded it and spread it on the floor. “Now, Gorfinkle, suppose you lie down on that, and Jacobs can show us how he wrapped Moose.”

  Stu lay down on the sheet as everyone craned forward to watch. But Bill Jacobs shook his head. “The sheet was draped sort of catty-cornered on the couch, so that Moose was lying on the diagonal. Move your carcass around, Stu. That’s right.” Suiting the action to the words, he proceeded to demonstrate. “
First, we picked up this corner and covered his feet. Then we picked up this corner and wrapped it tight around his body and kind of tucked it in. Then we picked up the opposite corner and wrapped it over that and tucked it under him, like this.”

  “And was anything said at the time, or had Moose passed out?”

  “No, he was swearing, mostly at Jenkins.”

  “And Jenkins, did he say anything?”

  “Not that I remember, except when we finished wrapping him up and he fell asleep, Jenkins said–but it was just in fun–”

  “What did he say?”

  “Oh, something about we ought to put it over his flip-pin’ head.” And then Jacobs added quickly, “But he was just joking.”

  “Of course,” said Lanigan easily. “Now, when you came back to Hillson House, how did you find Moose? Any change in the way he was wrapped?”

  “Well, this top corner had been pulled over and tucked in where the folds of the plastic met.”

  “Show me.”

  “Hey!” from Stu.

  “Don’t worry, Gorfinkle, we won’t leave you there,” Lanigan reassured him.

  Bill Jacobs lifted the upper corner of the sheet and folded it over Stu’s head and tucked it in.

  Sue Arons shrieked. “Take it off,” she cried hysterically, “take it off!”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-FIVE

  In company Pearl Jacobs was gay, almost giddy, but in the privacy of her home, with her family, she could be sober and shrewd. When her husband had finished describing the meeting of the parents at the rabbi’s study, she said, “I don’t understand why the rabbi called you. I should think it would be Gorfinkle he’d call. He’s the president.”

  “He said it was because our Bill was the only one who had been involved with the affair from beginning to end, but of course, his real reason was that he was probably embarrassed about calling Ben Gorfinkle after he had threatened to give him the ax.”

  “I’ll bet Ben wouldn’t be elected now if he were to run.”