Saturday the Rabbi Went Hungry (26 page)

“Good,” said the rabbi. “Later we can talk.”

The dozen or so men who had come to the service were impatient to begin, but when Goralsky entered on the arm of the rabbi those who knew him shook his hand and congratulated him on his recovery. The rabbi helped him off with his coat and scarf and then, draping a prayer shawl around his thin shoulders, led him to the table before the Ark. The old man prayed in a high, quavery voice which cracked occasionally on the higher notes of the chant; but he made no effort to hurry the service along, waiting each time for the rest to finish their recitations before chanting the line or two preceding the next prayer. At the Reading, the rabbi called him up for one of the portions. He seemed to gain strength as he prayed, and when he began the final prayer, the Olenu, his voice was strong and the thin little old man seemed to the rabbi to be standing straight and tall. He was as proud of him as though he were his own father.

At the end of the service all came up to wish him a Gut Shabbes, and then leisurely strolled out of the temple, as was proper on the Sabbath. But the rabbi detained the old man. “Sit down, Mr. Goralsky. Now we can talk.”

To one of the men who asked if everything was all right, he said: “Perhaps you’ll be good enough to tell Mr. Goralsky’s chauffeur that we’re going to sit here and talk for a little while.”

“You know, Rabbi, I’m a little bothered,” Goralsky said when the man left. “This is the first time that I ever rode on the Sabbath, and yet I led the prayers and you even called me up for a Reading.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Goralsky, believe me. Now tell me, have you notified your lawyer?”

The old man shook his head. “For a lawyer there’ll be plenty time. My Benjamin he also says I should call the lawyers. In the old country, in the shtetl, we didn’t know about lawyers. When we got into trouble – and what kind of trouble? Like opening your store a little too early on Sunday – did we get a lawyer? We went to see people who could help us: somebody who knew somebody or knew a relative of somebody should do a favor. Now, I’m sure the police don’t come down and take my Benjamin to the station house just to ask him he should help them. No, they got it in their minds that my Benjamin had something to do with this Hirsh dying. They must have on him a suspicion.” He gave the rabbi a searching look to see if he would deny it.

“Yes, I think you’re right, Mr. Goralsky.”

“But this is impossible, Rabbi. I know my son. He’s a good boy. He’s big and he’s strong, but a heart he’s got like a girl – so gentle. When we were in the chicken business, he would never do the slaughtering, on the nonkosher part of the business, I mean. For the kosher part, naturally we had it a shochet. I know him, I tell you. Years ago when I was younger, I used to be disappointed in him. A father always wants his children should go to school and become educated. He left school early. Sure, it was hard times and I could use his help, but believe me, Rabbi, if he had a head on him and been good in school, somehow I would have kept him there. But he didn’t want to study. It came hard for him. And this was a big disappointment to me. And next door, Hirsh had a son, this Isaac, who was a regular gaon and won all kinds scholarships. But later on, I used to think, maybe I didn’t do so bad with my Benjamin. This Isaac Hirsh never set foot in a synagogue after he grew up. Then he became a drunkard. Then he married a Gentile. Then they even said that he took his own life.”

The rabbi shook his head.

“I know that wasn’t true now. I’m only telling you what I was thinking. And my son, who didn’t even finish high school, he grew up a fine, kosher young man, and it turned out he even had a head for business. There was even an article they wrote on him in Time magazine how he was such a wonderful businessman. Believe me, they’re making a mistake, the police. My Benjamin, what interest would he have with this Isaac Hirsh, and after so many years?”

“Well, you’ve got to understand the situation,” the rabbi said. “This Hirsh is comparatively new here and kept to himself. He didn’t have any friends to speak of, and no business dealings with anyone who had any connection with him. They found out about your son having known him when they were boys together and about the partnership later on. And then when he made such a point about not wanting Hirsh’s body in the cemetery –”

The old man clasped his thin hands together. “God forgive me – that was my fault, Rabbi. He knew nothing about these things. It was from what he heard me say.”

“Yes, I know, but there was also the matter of his getting Hirsh the job at the Goddard Lab. He wrote a strong letter of recommendation –”

“See, doesn’t that show you what kind of heart he’s got, my Benjamin? Never was he friendly with Isaac Hirsh, even when they were boys. I don’t blame him. Maybe he got it from seeing my disappointment in him. Maybe I was harsh with him. Even when I realized that he was such a good son, could I tell him to his face? A girl, a daughter you can pat her on the head and pay her compliments, but a son? –”

“Yes, I understand. But you see, because of all this, it’s only natural for the police to want to make sure there wasn’t some recent connection between your son and Isaac Hirsh. I would earnestly advise you to consult with a lawyer so he can take care of your son’s interests.”

“No.” The old man shook his head. “With a lawyer it’s already official. He goes to a judge; he makes a motion; he gets a paper. Right away, it’s public and it’s in the newspapers. My son is not just anybody. He’s an important man. The newspapers would make a big tumult about the police questioning him.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“That’s why I come to you, Rabbi. I understand that you and the chief are good friends.”

“I’m afraid we haven’t been lately,” said the rabbi ruefully. “But even if we were, what could I do?”

“You could talk to him. You could find out what they are looking for. You could explain to them. Please, Rabbi. Try.”

And Rabbi Small did not have the heart to refuse. “All right, I’ll talk to the chief, but don’t expect anything. Please take my advice and get your lawyer.”

“The lawyer I can get later, but first I want you should talk to him. I don’t mean you should work today, Rabbi. It’s the Sabbath, but maybe tonight?”

“A man’s reputation is at stake. If you can ride on the Sabbath I can work on the Sabbath.” He smiled. “Besides, for a rabbi, the Sabbath is his regular workday.”

The rabbi’s call came just as he was leaving. “I’ve got to see you about Goralsky.”

“Sorry, Rabbi,” said Lanigan. “I was just on my way out.”

“But it’s extremely important.”

“I’m afraid it can’t be done. I have an appointment with Amos Quint and Ronald Sykes at the Goddard Lab in about twenty minutes. I’m hoping we can come up with something that will wind this thing up.”

“I’m sure you’re making a terrible mistake, Chief. You’ve got your mind fixed on Goralsky, and you’re going to do him a great injustice.”

“Look, Rabbi, I’ve got to run along. I’ll try to get over to you later.”

“But later could be too late.”

“I can’t imagine anything that won’t keep.”

“Rumor won’t keep. You’ve got Goralsky down at the station house. Before long everyone in town will know.”

“All right. But the best I can do is meet you at the lab. You can sit in on the discussion if you want. I guess I owe it to you. That is, if you don’t mind riding on the Sabbath.”

“For this I would make an exception. But I don’t like to leave Miriam alone at this time.”

“Bring her along.”

“Well, if you don’t mind – we’ll be there.”

He hung up and called to Miriam to get ready. “We’re going to meet Lanigan at the Goddard Lab.”

As they drove along Route 128, Miriam said, “Do you think Chief Lanigan really has a case against Mr. Goralsky?”

“Who knows? I haven’t spoken to him for a week or more, until just now. They may have found something I don’t know about, but then they probably would have arrested him outright instead of just taking him in for questioning. I’m sure they can work up a plausible motive. The trouble is, the way Lanigan views this case, they could work up a plausible motive against almost anyone.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, he’s decided that it wasn’t the result of elaborate planning, that since it involved just walking away no great motive is necessary. Anyone could have that kind of motive – his neighbor who doesn’t like the way he keeps his lawn – anyone. It’s much the same with the rest – weapon, opportunity. Goralsky could have been there because he wasn’t at the temple. Well, a lot of other people weren’t at the temple. And of course Goralsky drives a car. Yes, Lanigan could make up a case that would justify holding him.”

“But he’d be sure of being acquitted, wouldn’t he?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Suppose he were, would that be the end of it for him? Suppose they don’t even bring him to trial but release him, everyone will know he has been arrested. Even if they issue some sort of statement, what can they say? Mr. Goralsky has been released because of insufficient evidence? That wouldn’t signify he was innocent, only that they’d been unable to find the evidence they needed to connect him with the murder. And if he went to trial and was acquitted, it would be the same. No, he can be cleared completely only if they find the actual murderer. Well, more often than not, they never do.”

The car slowed down.

“Why are you stopping here?”

“I hadn’t intended to.” He pressed down hard on the accelerator, but instead of responding the car slowed down still more. He shifted into second, went a few feet and stopped altogether. He tried the motor, but it did not catch.

“What’s the matter, David?”

He grinned foolishly. “I don’t know.”

“Well, there’s a how-d’ye-do. What do we do now?”

“There was a cutoff back there about a hundred yards. Probably the one that leads to Morris Goldman’s garage. We’re on an incline. Maybe I can coast back –”

“On 128? With cars zipping along at sixty miles an hour! You’ll do no such thing.”

“I’m not keen on it myself. I suppose I better ease her back onto the shoulder of the road and raise the hood. That’s a sign that you’re in trouble. The state troopers will be along in a minute, they patrol this road constantly… What’s the matter?”

Her fists were clenched and she was biting her upper lip. Her forehead suddenly was bathed in perspiration. After a moment, she smiled weakly. “You might look at your watch and time the next one. I think you’re about to become a father, David.”

“Are you sure? That’s all we need right now. Look, don’t worry and don’t get excited. Just sit tight and I’ll flag down a car.”

“Be careful, David,” she called as he got out.

A moment ago the highway had been filled with cars, but now not a car was to be seen. He drew out his handkerchief and took up a position in the middle of the road. Presently he saw a car in the distance and began to wave his handkerchief. To his tremendous relief, the car slowed down. It passed, swung over to the side of the road, and then backed up to within a few feet of his car. When the driver got out, the rabbi saw it was Dr. Sykes.

“Why it’s Rabbi Small, isn’t it? You in trouble?”

“My car stopped.”

“Out of gas?”

“I don’t think so. No, I’m sure it isn’t that. I’ve been having some trouble –”

“All right, I’ll call a garage just as soon as I get to the lab. I’m supposed to meet the police chief there. Conked out right in the middle of driving, eh? Could be that your –”

“Look, my wife is in labor.”

“Oh, boy, that’s bad –” He eyed her in consternation. “Maybe, I – Say wait a minute! Why don’t you take my car and I can hoof it to the lab. It’s only a few hundred yards up the road.”

“It’s very kind of you, Dr. Sykes.” The rabbi climbed into the bucket seat of the little sports car and grasped the wheel. He looked uncertainly at the array of dials on the dashboard and then at the grinning face of Sykes leaning on the open door.

“Stick shift with four speeds forward. She’ll do a hundred easily. I had her gone over not long ago and she’s tuned like a fine watch.”

The rabbi nodded at the sticker on the doorjamb. “Yes, I see. Chai.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a Hebrew word. It means life.”

Sykes looked at him doubtfully, and then over at Mrs. Small and seemed to understand. “Right. You both have it on your mind. Well, let me help your lady out.”

“No.”

“What’s the matter?”

The rabbi had stepped out. “No, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t dare drive it. I – I wouldn’t know how. We’d end up in a ditch. Look, I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you drive on to the lab and tell Lanigan about our situation here. He’ll come and get us. Oh, and you could also have someone call the doctor – Dr. Morton Selig. He’s in the book, and tell him what happened and that I’m on my way to the hospital.”

“All right if you’re sure you’d rather.”

He climbed into the car and gunned the motor with a deafening roar. “Good luck and my best to your lady.”

“Nothing to be worried about, you two,” Lanigan remarked over his shoulder to the couple in the back seat. “When I first joined the force, I was on the ambulance trick and I wouldn’t care to venture a guess at the number of women I drove to the hospital. We used to take them over to Salem in those days – didn’t have a hospital of our own in the town. I don’t claim to be an obstetrician, but in my experience the first child always took a long time.”

“The pains are coming every ten minutes now.”

“Plenty of time. It’s when they start coming fast, every couple of minutes or every minute. It’s when it’s a second or third child they’re apt to pop. And don’t think I haven’t delivered babies either, or helped to. So you couldn’t be in better hands.”

He was obviously talking to distract them, and the rabbi recognized it and was grateful. He sat with one arm around his wife and gave her his hand to clutch whenever the pains came. Every so often he would wipe her forehead with his handkerchief.

They reached the outskirts of the city and Lanigan glanced back at them. “You know, if you like I could pick up a motorcycle escort. That way we could get through a little quicker.”