Harry Kemelman - Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home

“I’ll bet.”

Jennings disregarded his chiefs 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.”

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.”

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—”