Гарри Кемельман - Tuesday The Rabbi Saw Red

"Hey, did the cops come to see any of you guys?" Mazelman called out to the class. "This guy, a sergeant yet, turns up to the house and starts to grill me—"

"What do you mean?"

"Like who was in class Friday, you know, the Friday Hendryx got his? Did I see anybody in the building? Well, then it turns out he's specially interested in the time from two to three o'clock. So I tell him how by two o'clock I'm already at the airport because the rabbi walked out of class. Boy, was he surprised."

"Asshole!"Mazelman colored. "What's with you. Luftig?"

"What did you have to tell him that for?"

"Why not? It's a secret?"

"I don't see why we should wash our dirty linen in public." maintained Luftig."Well, it just came out. Besides, since when are you so buddy-buddy with the rabbi? You're always fighting with him."

"So what? That doesn't mean I got to throw him to the wolves."

"Who's throwing him to the wolves? Anyway," said Mazelman. "don't worry about the rabbi, a smart cookie like that can take care of himself."

"You start digging and you find things." said Sergeant Schroeder with grim satisfaction as Bradford Ames finished reading his progress report. "For instance, why didn't the dean tell us about Hendryx getting appointed head of the department?"

"Because when you first questioned her she didn't think it germane, I suppose, and the reason President Macomber gave is probably correct."

"I don't get it, a man's been killed."

"They'll have to appoint somebody to the job, won't they?" said Ames. "Why tell him he was just second choice?"

"Well..." The sergeant was not convinced. "Of course, I've still got more to question."

"Yes, you said you'd speak to the cleaning woman again."

"You wanted to be in on that one, sir."

"That's right. I certainly do, anything on the missing student, this Ekko?"Schroeder smiled complacently. "I think we've got a lead on him. Late Friday afternoon a young fellow hops the bus to Albany, he sits down next to a man who turns out to have a barber shop in Springfield, well, it seems the barber was telling one of his customers about this young fellow, how he was bulling him and how he puts him in his place by spotting that he was wearing a wig and a phony moustache. Just our good luck, this customer happened to be a plainclothesman with the Springfield police and he'd seen our flyer on this Ekko, who's bald as an egg. So the plainclothesman had their artist add some hair and a moustache to the picture on the flyer and got a positive ident from the barber. I expect we'll be picking him up in a couple of days."

"That's good work." said Ames. "Are you about through at the college?"

"All except this Professor. Fine and the remainder of the rabbi's class and the rabbi, of course. I figure I'm going to have to bear down on him a little."

"Bear down? On the rabbi?" Ames looked up in surprise.

"You bet, that man has a lot of explaining to do. I told you about the first time I called him and he wouldn't talk to me on his Sabbath, well then, when I finally did get to talk to him, not a word about walking out of his class right after it started."

"And what significance do you attach to that?" asked Ames.

"Well, think about it, sir. If he left his class a few minutes after one and didn't leave the school until after two, then he was with Hendryx for an hour or more. Now what were they doing there together?"

"What anyone would do. I suppose— talking."

"Right!" said Schroeder, as if this was conclusive. "But remember what this Barton woman said about Hendryx being anti-Semitic."

"What are you suggesting, Sergeant?"

"Well, if the rabbi admits he left around ten past two, and the M.E, puts the time of death at between two-ten and two-forty, and the rabbi was alone with Hendryx right up to that time, and with Hendryx a known anti-Semite and the rabbi a rabbi and all. Suppose they argue. Suppose the M.E.'s a little off— the ten, fifteen minutes you yourself mentioned, sir— only it's earlier not later, the point is, sir, if it's easy, if it involves no planning, just a spur-of-the-moment thing..."Bradford Ames stared at the officer as though he were seeing him for the first time, the man obviously was still aggrieved at the rabbi's refusal to talk to him when he first called.

"And how does he go about pulling the statue down. Sergeant?" Ames asked gently. "Have you thought of that?"

"Yup, I have," Schroeder said smugly. "There's old books and papers on those shelves. Suppose the rabbi spots a book he wants to read or just look at. Now if it was on the top shelf the only way is to climb up and get it. So he climbs up right next to the statue, then all he's got to do is give a little shove. Or maybe it was really an accident." A sudden thought occurred to him. "That may be what he wanted to see the dean about, to tell her there was an accident and to call a doctor, but the door shuts, he'd be all in a stew, not thinking clearly. Now I put it to you, would a man who'd just been through an experience like that go right home?" He shook his head. "No, sir, he'd ride around for a while, trying to make up his mind what to do, that's why he got home late, and then when I call up, he'd heard about the bombing. Naturally he wouldn't want to talk to me until he'd figured out what line to take."

"But—"The sergeant leaned forward for emphasis. "Here's the clincher,” he said. "You remember how we wondered how the killer could enter the office without Hendryx getting up to open the door for him? Well, there's one person who could, and that's the rabbi. Because he had his own key\ Oh, I've got a lot of questions to ask that rabbi—"

"No."

"No?"

"No, Sergeant. I'll talk to him myself."

It wasn't a party; a few of the Selzers' closest friends just decided to drop in to congratulate them on the release of their son. Now they listened to him with rapt attention.

"So the rabbi comes in and I offer him a cup of coffee. Not that I was particularly interested in entertaining visitors at that time, you understand, but if I told the Boss Lady the rabbi was here and I didn't give him something, well. I'd sure hear about it." He glanced affectionately at his wife beside him on the sofa and she patted his hand.

"But he says he's in a hurry, he can't stay, and then he says: 'I think it would be a good idea if you speak to Mr. Goodman. Tell him to file a motion for your son's release on his own recognizance or on reasonable bail.’ Just like that!" Well, you know, ever since it happened I've been getting advice from people— not only from friends and acquaintances but from people I hardly know, even perfect strangers. One calls me to tell me I should get this lawyer that's been in the newspapers, how he always gets his clients off, another one calls to suggest I ought to write a letter to all the papers and start a publicity campaign, then there are some real crackpot calls to say how if I surrender to Jesus, he'll handle it. Believe me, and one guy actually came to see me and he said I could get Abner home tomorrow if I just concentrated certain vibrations in my own head, which would link up with the same type vibrations in the head of the judge or the D.A, and tell them they had to release Abner and send him home. Honest to God, he was dead serious and he spoke like a college professor. Listening to him, you'd swear it was legit, like making a telephone call."

"My kid brother is a reporter." said Ronald Berkowitz. "and he tells me they get these crackpots calling up the paper all the time."Selzer nodded. "I guess you're right, but you know something? It was kind of nice— I mean, that he was concerned and wanted to help me. Because there were others— letters and even phone calls— that were just the opposite. Like one night a lady calls up and asks if I'm the fattier of the boy who is in jail, and when I ask who I'm talking to, she lets out a string of dirty words. I didn't hear such language even when I was in the Navy."