Гарри Кемельман - Tuesday The Rabbi Saw Red

"No, it's what he said." She drew a deep breath, and her face took on a new determination. "Rabbi, you know Professor Fine, don't you? The one who was arrested?"

"Yes,” he said. "I know him. Why?"

"Well, he didn't do it, he couldn't have because he was with me. When it happened. I mean."

Slowly the rabbi brought the chair to an upright position. "Yes? And where was that?"

"It was at a motel, the Excelsior, on Route 128.1 got us a room and then I phoned him here at the school to tell him the number and he came right out."

"And what time did he leave?"

"A quarter past two."

He looked at her. "How do you happen to be so sure of the time?"

"Because after I took the room I— I wasn't sure,” she said. "I mean I was kind of scared. I'd never done anything like this before, and the way the motel woman looked at me when I told her my husband had stopped off to pick up some things and would join me later.. .See, it's right next to like a shopping center. So I thought maybe I'd go back to the office and tell her I changed my mind and ask for my money back, then I thought I'd just get into my car and drive off without saying anything and just forget about the money, then I thought I'd wait until a quarter past two."

"Why a quarter past?"

"Because it was a few minutes after at the time and a quarter past seemed a good time to decide definitely. My watch just shows the quarter hours. It doesn't show the minutes in between. See?" She held her wrist out to him.

"And that's when you called him?"

She nodded. "Is there a switchboard at the motel, or can you call outside directly?"

"Oh, I didn't use the phone in the room, there's a pay station just outside in the parking lot. I used that. I thought the motel woman might listen in."

"I see. How did you happen to pick that motel in the first place?" he asked. She dropped her eyes. "One of the girls in the dorm said it was a good place."

"I see, and what time did Professor Fine get there?"

"I— I don't know exactly. But he said he was starting right out, and he wouldn't— I mean, if he were coming out to me, he wouldn't—"

"No, I don't think he would, either." said the rabbi kindly, then. "Did you have any occasion to notice the time when he arrived?"

She shook her head slowly. "Not until later when I thought it might be late for him, but he said he had plenty of time. His wife was going to some party and he'd told her he'd be staying in town."

"Do the police know any of this?"

"Of course not, or he'd be free now, wouldn't he?"

"If they believed him," he said. "Did anyone see you together at the motel?"

She shook her head vigorously. "I'm sure they didn't, we were very careful, that's why we arranged that I should take the room, he didn't want to be seen, he was afraid, with his cane and his red hair and all, that the manager would remember him and someday it might come out."

"I see."

"He wouldn't tell them,” she insisted, "because he wouldn't want to involve me."

"Even though it means staying in jail?"

"Oh yes," she said positively.

David Small filled out his permit form and slid it into the shallow tray under the thick glass bullet-proof shield.

"Just like a bank,” he said. The guard laughed automatically, the remark was made dozens of times a day. "Yeah, it's a bank all right. Now if you'll empty your pockets and walk through the scanner."

The rabbi deposited his wallet, loose change, and wristwatch in a little pile and stepped under an archway.

"Now back." The needle on the dial moved.

"You still got metal on you." The rabbi patted his pockets, he inserted his hand in the side pocket of his jacket and felt the tear in the lining he was always forgetting to ask Miriam to mend, he came up with a stub of pencil. "It fell down inside the lining," he explained. "I forgot I had it."

"All right. Now walk through again. Okay now."

"You mean the pencil registered?"

"The metal eraser holder." said the guard. Rabbi Small collected his belongings and was directed down a short corridor and through a heavy door of steel bars which clicked closed behind him. "First door on your left." the guard called after him. "You wait there."

It was a small room with only a few chairs and a table as furniture, as he waited, the rabbi wondered what he would say. Did Fine know what had happened at the temple Friday night? Should he ask him about it? Should he mention that he was here at Ames' suggestion? The door opened and Roger Fine entered. Behind him was a middleaged black prison guard.

"I have to wait out here. Professor Fine." said the guard, "but you can close the door."

"Okay. John, thanks. By the wav, this is Rabbi Small, he also teaches at Windemere. John Jackson. Rabbi. His boy is a student at Windemere."

"Hello. Rabbi." said the guard, and drew the door of the room closed behind him.

"His boy was one of those I tutored in the summer and managed to get in." said Fine. "Nice kid."

"I heard of your program." said the rabbi. "That took considerable courage, I imagine."

"Not courage. Rabbi; concern." He flung himself into the seat and hooked his cane on the edge of the nearby table, he seemed thinner than when the rabbi had last seen him, and his face was drawn.

"And how has it worked out?" asked the rabbi. "The ones you tutored, have they done well?"

Fine shrugged. "Some worked out all right; some not so good. You've been hobnobbing with the Establishment. What do they say about it?"

The rabbi laughed shortly. "I certainly wouldn't call it hobnobbing— an occasional coffee in the cafeteria, and I didn't realize they were the Establishment, just some of the older members of the faculty. But I gathered from them that the group you were tutoring hadn't had college preparatory training, that they were from Roxbury., and most of them had been out of school for several years."

"What of it?" demanded Fine. "The experience of making it in the ghetto was ten times more valuable than a course in Latin or algebra in high school."

"Perhaps so." said the rabbi, "but that's not the point, is it? A course in algebra might not be very useful in the ghetto, but it's probably necessary preparation for college physics or chemistry."

"Well, that's why we were tutoring them during the summer." said Fine heatedly. "But how much could you hope to accomplish? If you could cover several years of college prep work in a couple of months, then our secondary school system is a fraud. If not, your tutoring project would be a fraud intended only to gain them admittance to a course of study they couldn't possible pursue."

"What of it?"

"What of it?" the rabbi echoed.

"Sure, what of it?" Fine laughed scornfully. "What sort of place do you think Windemere is? Or any college? It's a fossilized institution like— like the electoral college, or the British monarchy, or the House of Lords, the college today is simply an institution for maintaining a plutocratic class structure. It's intended for..." his voice trailed off as he saw his visitor's gaze fixed beside him, he turned and, following the rabbi's gaze, saw a cockroach scuttling along, he knocked it down with his cane and then calmly stepped on it. "It's not the Ritz, but it's free." He laughed. "That's one of the things they say here. Not very funny, but it keeps their spirits up, I suppose."

The rabbi nodded and then, after a suitable pause, continued. "It's curious. Professor Hendryx also thought the college was no longer for the purpose of educating young people. But he thought its present function was to subsidize college professors."

"He would," said Fine. "But if you examine its effect on society, you see all college does is to divide the sheep from the goats, the white collars from the blue."