Harry Kemelman - Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home

“All right, Rabbi, I’ll tell you what I’ll do: I’ll release them in your custody. You’ll have to give me your word that they’ll be available for questioning when I want them.”

For a moment the rabbi hesitated. Then he nodded. “Very well, I guess I can do that.”

They had been there almost an hour, and still there was no sign of agreement. Every now and then one of them would appeal to the rabbi—usually to support his position—but he was determined to be circumspect and refused to be drawn. When Lanigan first asked him to arrange for an informal meeting with all the youngsters who had been at the cookout, he had demurred. “I can’t just ask them; their parents would have to agree to it.”

“So ask the parents. Explain to them that all I want is information. I’m not trying to pin anything on anyone. No tricks. I just want to be sure I’m getting the complete story.”

“They’ll want their lawyers present.” the rabbi warned.

“Nothing doing. I’m not going to have a bunch of wise guys raising objections every time I ask a question. If one didn’t, another would.”

“How about if they all agreed on one lawyer?”

“That would be the day. Besides, even if by some miracle they did, he’d feel he had to be extra careful, and he wouldn’t let them volunteer anything.”

The rabbi smiled. “Then I don’t think you’re going to get your meeting.”

“Oh, I’ll get it sooner or later.” said Lanigan grimly. “I’ve got a clear case of breaking and entering against each and every one of those kids. I’ll admit that there were extenuating circumstances and that probably no judge would sentence them. But in connection with the fact that they were all material witnesses to a murder—believe me. I’d have no trouble confining them to the jurisdiction. And when school starts again, they and their parents, too, are going to begin to chafe.”

So, with great reluctance, the rabbi had agreed and called Mr. Jacobs to ask him to round up the others.

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. “After 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—”

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: “‘QUESTION: 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.”