Faye Kellerman - The Ritual Bath

“Matt’s the teacher who’s been guarding the place on Friday night?”

“Yes, he and Steve Gilbert. In a pinch they’ve even walked me home at night, so if either had wanted to do something, he’d have had ample opportunity.”

“Not really. Not if he didn’t want you to know his identity.”

“You are grasping at straws.”

“What’d Matt say when you said no?”

“He made a joke out of it. Said he was only teasing, that he’d wanted to take me to a nudie show and watch me blush. But if you knew Matt, you’d know that’s the way he is. A little crude at times, but he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“How long have you known him?”

“About five years. Both he and Steve had been working at the yeshiva when Yitzchak and I arrived.”

“How about Gilbert?”

“What do you mean?”

“He never asked you out?”

She paused for a long time.

“Actually we went out for a drink once. But,” she quickly clarified, “it wasn’t a date. He’s been engaged to the same girl on and off for five years, and this was one of his in-between periods. It was also a year after Yitzchak died, and I was so lonely. But we concentrated on him. He was feeling very low, and I gave him a shoulder to cry on.”

“Never asked you out again?”

“No. As I said, it wasn’t a date. He knows as well as Matt that I only date Jewish men. Besides, Steve loves his fiancée. I’ve met her, and she’s a very nice girl. Both of them have trouble making decisions; they keep setting dates and breaking them. He’s due to get married in about six weeks, and it looks like this time it’s going to go through.”

“What’s he like?”

“Quiet, but not unusually so for a physics type. I was a math-physics major in college, and I knew lots of guys like him.”

“What about your students, Rina? Any of them seem a little off?”

“They’re boys , Peter!”

“They’re the same age as Cory Schmidt.”

“ Lehavdil . In answer to your question, no. The kids I teach are terrific.”

“And you know every single one?”

“There are a hundred boys in the yeshiva’s high school. I know close to every single one. They’re fine, normal boys.”

He threw his arms upward, stretched, then opened another bottle of beer.

“You’re probably right.”

But she sensed he wouldn’t leave it at that.

“We’d better be getting back, Peter. I can’t wait until you take the books over to the Rosh Yeshiva. He could tell you a lot more about them than I could, as far as value. Rav Aaron is often asked by galleries to appraise works of Judaica. His study is like a museum.”

“I’d like to see it.”

“He’d show it to you. He’s very proud of his collection.”

“Rina, I want to ask you an off-the-wall question.”

“Okay.”

“In Moshe’s closet was a beautiful white robe that was protected by a cleaners’ bag, completely out of character with the rest of his wardrobe. Does it have any religious significance?”

“Yes. It’s a kittel . A man wears it when he marries, when he prays on the High Holy Days, and when he’s buried.” She paused. “Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity. My box contained a similar garment. I took it out and had it wrapped in plastic to prevent it from yellowing.”

Rina became pensive.

“God knows why Moshe kept his,” she said. “It must be a painful remembrance for a man whose marriage went sour.”

Decker smiled sadly.

“True enough,” he said.

Decker walked down a flight of steps and into the basement chemistry lab. He was surprised at how modern it was. The room was spacious, bright, and well ventilated. There were thirty hooded stations, each equipped with standard lab paraphernalia-bunsen burners, beakers, titrating cylinders and hoses, stirring rods, and an assortment of measuring devices. At the back wall sat Gilbert at a long bench table that held ten personal computers. He was busy typing on a keyboard and didn’t turn around until Decker was halfway across the room. Then he stood up and offered the detective a chair.

“Have a seat.”

“Thanks.” Decker glanced at the computers-six IBM PCs, four Apple MacIntoshes. “Looks like some money has been spent here.”

“The parents are getting more particular. They want their sons graduating with something more marketable than theology.”

“Does that cause any problems with the rabbis?”

“A few, like Rabbi Marcus, seem to find the twentieth century objectionable. However, Rabbi Schulman is a very practical man. He knows on which side his proverbial bread is buttered.”

Gilbert took off his glasses, pulled a tissue out of his shirt pocket, and began to wipe his glasses. He continued:

“The computers were donated by a couple of rich families. The lab was built at cost three years ago. The construction company’s president had a boy who was going here. Schulman is a great fund-raiser.”

“Do you like teaching here?”

“It’s a job. I need the extra income.”

“Rina says the boys here are really bright.”

“Very bright, very spoiled.”

“Are they a challenge to teach?”

He put his glasses back on.

“At times. Most of the challenge is appeasing the parents when their precious babies aren’t performing up to snuff.” Gilbert stared at Decker. “What’s on your mind, Detective?”

“Just a few questions.” Decker took out a note pad.

“I didn’t rape anyone.”

Decker said nothing. An odd reaction. It was unusual for anyone to start off with a flat denial of guilt.

“Anything else?” Gilbert asked in a bored tone of voice.

“You were in Nam,” Decker stated.

“Yes.”

“What unit?”

“I’m sure you know.”

“You tell me.”

“I was a clerk in Saigon,” Gilbert said. “I was never in heavy action.”

“Records say you were a sniper.”

“For a week.”

“What happened?”

“I was transferred. Maybe they were impressed with my typing.”

“Weren’t you frustrated? All that skill-”

“I came home with my balls intact. That’s more than I can say for a lot of others. Were you over there?”

“Yes,” Decker answered.

“Doing?”

“I was a medic.”

“Oooh.” Gilbert gave a half smile. “Very messy.”

“How long have you known Mrs. Lazarus?”

“I’ve known Rina about five years.”

“Did you know her husband?”

“I’d met him. I didn’t know him.”

“Did he and Rina seem well matched?”

“I think she could have done better, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Ever think of asking her out after her husband passed away?”

“She’s inaccessible to me. I’m not Jewish.” The half smile reappeared on his lips. “She’s inaccessible to you too, Detective.”

Decker ignored him and continued.

“Where were you the night of Florence Marley’s murder?”

“With my fiancée’s parents. Phone number 675-6638. I’m there every Wednesday night. Check it out.”

“What’s their name?”

“MacLaughlin.”

“Where were you the night of the Adler rape?”

“What day of the week was the rape?”

“Thursday.”

“Teaching the computer club.”

“What time is the club over?”

“Around ten.”

“The rape was around ten.”

“So?”

“That puts you in the area at the time of the rape.”

“You know, Detective, Rina’s sons are in the computer club. It was my idea to bring them in; I thought they’d have a good time fooling around with the machines. Rina would pick them up at the club after her mikvah job, and I’d walk them all home. But they haven’t come around lately, and when I asked Rina why, she was evasive. You have her distrusting everyone in pants except you and maybe Zvi Adler and Rabbi Schulman. I don’t like being held up to scrutiny because I know her and have a dick.”