Гарри Кемельман - Thursday The Rabbi Walked Out

Although Lanigan was impressed, he was not yet ready to yield, he even managed a supercilious look of unconcern. "And his motive. David? You're not suggesting he did it just to prove to himself what a good shot he was."

The rabbi smiled. "No, nothing so psychologically exotic. My guess is he did it for money."

"You thinking of that report not balancing?" "That struck me as significant, but—"

"Forget it." said Lanigan flatly. "We had an accountant go over Jordon's account. It was in apple pie order."

"That wasn't what I had in mind." said the rabbi. "I was thinking of the remark that was made at the Agathon that night by Dr. Springhurst, that Jordon was without friends or family, and later, the seemingly contradictory remark that Gore was kin to Jordon. I assume that what he meant was that Jordon had no close or immediate family, but that Gore was a second or third cousin. But if there were no other relatives, and Jordon died intestate, then naturally Gore would inherit. Now, suppose that Jordon had confided to Gore that Billy was his son and that he was planning to make a will in his favor—."

"I see what you mean." Lanigan admitted, "and it's possible. Of course, you realize there's not a particle of proof for any of this."

"Fingerprints?" suggested the rabbi hopefully.

"Of Gore's? Plenty of them, but it's only what you'd expect, he spent the evening here."

"I meant, on the clock perhaps. Billy told me that Jordon set great store by that clock and didn't allow anyone else to wind it. So if Gore's prints are on it, that would be some kind of proof, wouldn't it?" The rabbi squatted down and squinted at the clock lying on the floor.

Lanigan had gone back to the dining room for his folder, and now he returned, riffling through it. "Let's see, here are blowups of various prints, and—oh, here it is—a summary of the fingerprint expert's findings. 'Carriage clock, on floor, no prints.' I guess it was wiped clean."

"But isn't that in itself suspicious? There should be prints, if only Jordon's from when he last wound it."

"Not if Martha wiped it in the course of her normal cleaning and dusting."

"Then hers should be on it." said the rabbi.

"Unless she used those cleaning mitts some women use, there's a pair in the kitchen." He joined the rabbi and squatted down on his heels beside him.

"How do you wind it?" asked the rabbi.

"Oh, the back is hinged." He picked it up by the folding brass handle on top and brought it over to the table. It was about five or six inches high, and the case consisted of rectangular plates of beveled glass, two of which had been smashed by the bullet, set in a brass frame. "It's called a carriage clock, and they usually come in padded leather cases, an old-fashioned travel clock is what it is. You carried it by this handle, and when you got to your inn or hotel, it could be set on the mantelpiece. When you had to wind it, you took it out of its leather case and opened the back. See that square stem in the hole there? That's where you wind it. You need a key."

"Two keys." observed the rabbi. "The stem in the center hole must be for resetting the hands. It's smaller than the other. Where would he have kept the keys, do you suppose?"

"Well, we have a clock in the living room that you wind, we keep the key on the mantelpiece behind it." He strode over to the mantelpiece, pointed and called out. "One key. Rabbi, but it's a double key. One end is for winding the spring and the other for setting the hands, the one we have at home, you wind in front and you set the hands by just moving them."

"Martha wouldn't have bothered to wipe that." said the rabbi, "especially if it were kept behind the clock."

"Certainly not if she were wearing cleaning mitts." He went back to his folder. "The summary doesn't mention it. I doubt if our man checked it for prints. I'm going to call him."

AS THEY SAT IN THE DINING ROOM AWAITING THE ARRIVAL of the fingerprint expert. Lanigan ruminated about the case. "I dismissed Gore as a suspect even before we dug out his alibi for him. I figured he was the one person who couldn't have done it, because he was the one person who knew there was someone else in the house, he was the only one who saw Billy sent to his room and locked in. Somehow he must have found out that he had left."

The rabbi nodded. "When I met with Billy on the island, he said Gore knew that he did it regularly when the old man sent him to his room, he had told him and they had laughed about it. Still, my guess is that Gore didn't just gamble on it, he may have heard the window go up—"

"Yeah, it's wooden sash and the door is thin. If Gore was standing just outside the door, he'd hear it all right." Lanigan agreed.

They talked of Gore and the kind of man he was. "He's well thought of in town." said Lanigan. "Public-spirited fellow, like getting up this silver collection, for instance, he's divorced and I heard it said at the time that maybe it was because he was so public spirited. You know, being active in all kinds of causes and not being home too much. I don't know the kind of money he makes as president of the bank, but he lives moderately, we may find when we start checking that he's been gambling. If he's tight for money, Jordon's couple of million would help out."

"You don't have to be short of money to try to acquire a couple of million." observed the rabbi.

"That's for sure."

"And if he were certain the money was coming to him, after a while he might get to thinking it was actually his and Jordon only a sort of temporary custodian."

The doorbell rang. It was the fingerprint expert. Lanigan led him over to the mantelpiece and pointed at the key. "When you were working here. Joe, did you check that key?"

"I didn't even see it, Chief." He felt that he had to defend himself. "Look, we don't go over everything, we'd be here for a week. Just the likely things and places. I wouldn't go dusting the ceiling, for instance, or the floor or—"

"All right, all right. Joe. Nobody is criticizing you. I want you to do that key now."

They watched as he dusted with his powders and then looked with his magnifying glass. "Yup, there's a nice print there. Tip of the thumb. I'd say, and I'm pretty sure it's the right thumb."

"Okay, Joe, here are blowups of the different prints you took here. I want you to go over those and see if this matches one of them."

"Oh, I know this one. Chief, that's Ellsworth Jordon's."

"Oh!" The sigh of disappointment came from both Lanigan and the rabbi. Lanigan shook his head in annoyance and frustration, but the rabbi said. "How about the other side?" He pointed at the key. "That print is toward the large socket that you use for winding the clock, maybe there's one on the other side pointing toward the small socket that you use to set the hands."

"It's an idea." said Joe. From his bag he got a small screwdriver, and inserting the tang into the socket, he flipped the key over. Once again he dusted with his powders and a moment later announced. "Yeah, and this one's different."

"Are you sure?" asked Lanigan eagerly.

"Aw Chief!" Joe was reproachful. "I couldn't make a mistake on this one, there's a little line scar right across it. This one is Lawrence Gore's."

"What made you think of Gore?" asked Lanigan. "Had you thought of him before you got the call from Miriam?"

The rabbi nodded. "From the time I heard about the quarterly report that Molly Mandell tried to deliver. By way of excusing her folly, her husband pointed out that it didn't even balance."

"Yeah, he told me that, too, and you mentioned it. Was it your idea that Gore was pilfering the till? Because he wasn't, you know, we checked it out."

"No, that didn't occur to me. What struck me as strange was that, knowing that the accounts didn't balance. Gore was still willing to have Molly deliver it to Jordon. On the one hand Gore was terribly anxious lest the report come in a day late, and on the other he was seemingly unconcerned that it did not balance. It didn't make sense.