Гарри Кемельман - Thursday The Rabbi Walked Out

"Do you happen to know which of them will see patients in the evening?"

"Well, if it's an emergency—"

"No. I mean who will schedule patients for regular treatment."

"Well, that limits it even more, doesn't it? Let's see, Dr. Boles used to, but I know for a fact that he doesn't anymore, he's quite old, abner Gordon doesn't as a rule, but he just might if the rabbi spoke to him, especially if he were interested in the case. I mean if it involved something he was doing a paper on."

She finally came up with a list of four names, two of which Miriam discarded because they were obviously Jewish, she reasoned that Maltzman might feel that if the doctor were Jewish, there was a greater chance of someone in the Jewish community finding out. Of the remaining two, one was a woman. For a couple of minutes Miriam agonized over the choice and then decided that Maltzman would be more inclined to tell his personal troubles to a woman than to a man.

"Dr. Sayre? I wonder if I could have an appointment—"

A firm contralto voice asked, "Whom an I talking to, please?"

"My name is—Myra, Myra Little."

"Miss or Mrs.?"

"It's Ms."

"Very well, and what is it you want to see me about?"

"It's—I don't like to say over the phone—I wouldn't want—I mean if someone were listening—"

"Who referred you to me, Ms. Little?"

"Well, it wasn't a doctor. It was one of your patients, Henry Maltzman."

"Oh yes." It was merely polite agreement, which might mean nothing, but it gave Miriam the courage to continue.

"He said you sometimes took patients in the evening, which is the only time I could come."

"I do take some patients in the evening."

"Well, could I have an appointment for Friday evening, around half past seven?"

"Friday evening? Let me see. Why that's Mr. Maltzman's time."

"Are you sure. Doctor. Because he said—" "Quite sure, he—"

But Miriam had hung up, leaving the doctor looking puzzled at her telephone which had inexplicably gone dead.

When the rabbi returned shortly after, he showed his disappointment. "I should have called first," he said. "There was no one home when I got there."

"It doesn't matter, David," she said. "It doesn't matter." She was excited at her success and yet fearful of his disapproval.

The rabbi listened in silence as she told him what she had done and repeated her conversation with Dr. Sayre.

He shook his head in wonder and then smiled. "As I remarked earlier, who can know the depths of another person?"

"Are you angry? Was it wicked of me?"

"The Talmud forbids pricing a merchant's wares if you have no intention of buying. It raises his hopes of making a sale and then causes him needless distress when you disappoint him. I suppose the same would apply to a doctor." He threw his head back and laughed joyously. "But it was awfully clever of you, and now. I'd better see Lanigan." He hesitated. "You don't have any other bright ideas you might try while I'm gone, do you. Miriam?"

"Oh, David!"

"Now. Chief. I’ve given you my personal assurance that I was nowhere near the Jordon house that night, or during the day for that matter, and I'm willing to say that under oath. I know damn well you don't suspect me of havina anything to do with it, and I consider it a serious infringement on my rights."

Lanigan listened with growing impatience. Finally, he exploded. "Goddammit, this isn't a parking offense. This is murder and—"

The voice of the desk sergeant came over the intercom. "Rabbi Small is here. Chief, and he'd like to see you."

"Tell him I'm busy now, maybe later."

"Yes, Sir, but he says it's terribly important and he has to see you right now."

"Well, all right." To Henry Maltzman, he said, "I’ve been treating you with kid gloves, but when I get back, Henry, you'll talk, or I'll have Lieutenant Jennings put you in a cell and you won't get another chance to talk until tomorrow morning. Keep an eye on him, Eban."

His greeting to the rabbi when he came out was, "This had better be good, David."

"It is good, Chief," said the rabbi earnestly and told him of Miriam's exploit.

Lanigan chuckled. "While you were out of the house, eh? She's a corker. When you get home, ask her if she'd like a part-time job with the force, all right, we'll probably check with this Dr. Sayre, but for now it's good enough." And, as the rabbi turned to leave. "Oh, and give Miriam my love."

Back in his office. Lanigan looked sourly at Maltzman and said. "Okay, you can go now, the lieutenant will check you out."

"Did Rabbi Small come here about me? Is that why you're letting me go?"

"Go on. Beat it before I change my mind."

RETURNING FROM THE BOARD MEETING, HERB WAS SURPRISED to find Molly at home. "Your bridge didn't last very long," he remarked.

"Oh, I wasn't planning to stay. I just went to help with the decorations. It was a shower and bridge for a new bride."

"Mother?"

She pointed ceilingward. "Resting." Then she said eagerly. "How did the meeting go? As planned?"

"No, the rabbi got his contract renewed. It was close, but the rabbi won."

"But, but how? Henry was sure he had eight votes."

He smiled sourly. "I guess he had to twist an arm or two to get the eight. But then he outsmarted himself with his idea of a secret ballot." He was enjoying himself as he spelled it out for her. "You see, when you vote in secret, how is Big Brother Henry to know how you voted?"

"I don't understand." She seemed bewildered, unable to take it in. "I just don't understand."

"Oh, that's all right,” he said breezily. "There are lots of things/don't understand." The coincidence of Maltzman's absence from the board meeting while she was presumably out playing bridge had made him change his mind, he now had to confront her. "For instance. I don't understand why you went out the night I was running the Brotherhood service and you were supposed to be staying with Mother." He saw that he had startled her and that she had the grace to blush.

"Stanley told you? I thought it was his jalopy I saw as I turned into the driveway."

"What driveway?"

"Ellsworth Jordon's, of course. I went to deliver that report I'd been working on."

"Gore asked you to?" "No, I offered." "Why?"

"Because I could tell that Larry was worried about not getting it in on time, the bank could lose the account. Jordon could be very nasty about things like that."

"And you delivered it?"

She shook her head. "The house was dark when I got there. I thought he must have gone to bed early, or gone out, so I came away." She hesitated. "I’ve thought about it ever since, that maybe— Do you think he might have been—you know—dead at the time?"

"He might have been,” he admitted cautiously. "But since you didn't see him and didn't know it, there was nothing you could do. So why not just forget about it?"

"But when that policeman came to ask about Mr. Gore's phone call. I should have told him that I went to the Jordon house that night."

"Gosh, yes. You certainly should have. It might be an important clue. Why didn't you?"

"Because you were right here with me,” she said with a touch of acerbity. "I didn't want to say I had gone out when I'd promised I was going to stay in. I thought of seeing tha detective later and telling him, but I kept putting it off and then never got around to it. But if they should find out I concealed information—"

"How would they find out?"

"Well, Stanley mentioned it to you, didn't he? What if he should mention it to the police?"

Learning that it was Jordon rather than Maltzman she had gone to see had lifted a great weight from his mind, he was now thoroughly ashamed of his doubts of her loyalty, he felt a great tenderness for her, he could see that she was worried and a little frightened, and he longed to allay her fears. On the other hand, having led her to believe that it was Stanley who had told him, it would be foolish now to admit that he had learned it from his mother.