Гарри Кемельман - Tuesday The Rabbi Saw Red

"Like going on a plane."

"Yes, only more so, they're terribly careful. I asked Mr. Winston, that's Roger's lawyer, how they can sneak in all these guns and things that you hear about, and he just smiled and said. 'They don't search the guards.' How do you like that? So then I went into this little room, which Mr. Winston got special permission for us to use. Otherwise we would have had to meet in this big room with a barrier between us like you see in the movies, well, I came in and Roger was already there waiting, he looked at me as though he weren't sure just how I was going to take it, so of course I smiled, and then he smiled back and I felt everything was all right. We sat down at this little table and he asked me if I thought he had done it, and of course I told him it never entered my mind, and that made him very happy. Really, he was quite cheerful after that, almost as though he was enjoying himself, he assured me that I was not to worry. Of course, he may have been putting on an act the same as I was at first, but I really didn't think so."

"But how did he—" Flossie started over again. "I mean how did the police decide to arrest— Did he talk about it?"

"Oh yes." said Edie. "You see he was in the administration building at the time. You know, he's involved in all this social justice business, and he was waiting for this important call, the whole point is that the building is practically empty on Friday afternoons, and the rabbi—"

"The rabbi?"

"Yes, the rabbi has a class on Friday afternoon, and after he finished as he was leaving, he passed by Roger's office and happened to see him there."

Selma looked significantly at Flossie Bloom and then they both looked at Annabelle Fisher.

As she had on similar occasions, aggie Nolan walked slowly along Commonwealth Avenue, alert for the three short blasts of an automobile horn, she had called the FBI earlier and told the agent she worked with: "Commonwealth at Fairfield. Eleven o'clock."

At a quarter past eleven she finally heard the signal, she stepped into the roadway and stuck out her thumb, almost at once a car slowed down and came to a stop beside her

."You're late,” she said, sliding in beside the driver. "I passed you twice,” he said. "The first time there was a guy standing on the corner. I thought he was looking at you."

"Well, guys do, you know." said Aggie. "I sure as hell do know,” he said appreciatively. "The second time you hadn't thumbed. I told you before, you've got to thumb."

"Yeah, well, all that cloak and dagger jazz is a drag."

"Maybe so,” he said, "but while you work with me, you'll do it my way. It's for your protection as much as mine, all right, what's up?"

"They've picked up Ekko and they're holding him."

"What do you care— he a boyfriend of yours?"

"He was once, that's all over, but he's a decent guy,” she said. "Well, you don't have to worry about him, they let the others go and they'll let him go. I'm sure, especially now that they've charged this professor with the murder."

"There's still the arson charge, the others are out on bail. Ekko couldn't raise the bail."

"I still don't think there's anything to worry about. Believe me. I don't think the case will go to trial, the D.A, just doesn't have the evidence, and if it does go to trial, they'll be acquitted for sure." She turned on the seat to face him. "Not good enough," she said. "You told me to get in solid with the Weathervanes, and I did. I even went along with this crazy bombing scheme of yours to show I meant business."

"It worked, didn't it?"

"I didn't expect anybody to get killed!"

"But nobody did. This Hendryx guy, the bomb had nothing to do with his death."

"And I didn't expect anybody else to get blamed. I got nothing against any of them, especially Ekko, well, I want him out." He sighed. "All right. I'll talk to my boss and have him tip off the D.A. Okay?" He patted her on the knee. She slid away from him. "You can drop me right along here."

"What's your hurry? How about a little ride?"

"No, at the corner there. It's right near school." He shrugged. "Whatever you say, baby."

District Attorney Matthew Rogers felt he ought to grumble a little. "I don't see why they can't tip us off when they set up something in our bailiwick." Bradford Ames chuckled. "Because even where the local people are completely trustworthy, there's a chance they may slip up and blow the cover of the federal operative."

"I suppose. But at least they could give us some advance warning. Not let us arrest these decent young people and keep them in jail for days on end and cause their families all kinds of grief, when by passing the word we could have just let things simmer."

"Maybe they felt that would look suspicious." suggested Ames. Rogers gnawed at the thought in silence for a moment. "I don't mind cooperating with the FBI. I'm anxious to, especially when they have secret information that people we've charged are actually innocent, we can always file a motion to quash for lack of evidence, although if you do that too much, you're suspected of being too eager to jail people. Remember that. Brad." Ames nodded dutifully. "But I like to be kept informed of developments."

"You were busy with the budget business," Ames said. "I didn't think you'd want to be bothered with the routine."

Rogers looked at him sharply. "Well, that's exactly right. Brad, but still—"

"And I don't mind admitting." Ames added, "that it occurred to me it might be better for you to have no official knowledge of this business, since it was slightly irregular."

"You're absolutely right. Brad. But you know if you got into a jam, I'd stand by you and back you up."

"I was thinking politically."

"Yes, that's true," said the district attorney. "In politics you sometimes have to disclaim knowledge of some of the things that are done in your name. But even then, you could rely on me to accept full responsibility." He scanned his assistant's face. "Precisely. So I thought I'd go ahead. If my judgment was wrong—"

"Not at all. Brad. I have every confidence in you. You know that. Now what are your plans for proceeding against the real culprit?"

"We were asked to do nothing. Matt."

"Nothing? But Brad, a serious crime has been committed in my jurisdiction, a bombing. I can't just wash my hands of it and make believe it never happened."

"Not such a serious crime. Matt." Rogers was indignant. "You don't call blowing up a school a serious crime?"

"Oh, there was some damage to the wall in the dean's office." said Ames, "some scorching, and a pane of glass in the door of an adjoining office was broken. Probably not a hundred dollars damage altogether, a smart lawyer could get a sympathetic judge to call it a misdemeanor. Besides, it was the government agent who did it."

"Good Lord!" Ames squirmed in his seat, his round head wagging as he adjusted the various portions of his body to the chair. "It's a wicked world we live in. Matt. You see, when you plant an agent in a radical organization like the Weathervanes, he— although in this case it's a she— can't just sit back and observe. It's a small, close-knit organization, and everybody is expected to pull his own weight, and if they initiate action, so much the better. You can see that."

Rogers nodded seriously.

"But in this case, they weren't planning to do much damage, just discredit the group that sent the committee to see the dean. Originally, they were only going to organize some sort of counter-demonstration. But when the government agent learned from a source on the committee that they were seeing the dean late Friday afternoon when the school is practically deserted, she seized the opportunity, she waited inside the building and when they left, set off a small charge. It wasn't expected to cause much damage but would do the job on the committee, since they'd be surely blamed for it."