They argued late into the night. Sometimes the argument went in circles, as arguments frequently do, and sometimes it slid off into areas wholly unrelated to the immediate subject of discussion. But for the most part the adversaries were Roy and the rabbi, with Dan occasionally chiming in to give moral support to his son. The subject of the bombing of Memavet's apartment did not come up until the guests were getting ready to leave. Some mention was made of Haifa, and Roy asked his father if he had had a successful trip there.
"I'd say it was successful. Roy. I'm hoping you'll think it was. too. I happened to notice that the Athenia had docked and was loading. I used to be quite friendly with the skipper, so I went down to see him. He was just as friendly as ever, and it ended up with an invitation to sail with him— a ten-day trip to Greece. Sicily, and back to Haifa— for both of us. if you can make it. What do you think of that Roy?"
"Gee. that's great. Dad. When would we go?"
"We'd leave Haifa Sunday—"
Roy snapped his fingers. "Uh-uh, I just thought of something."
"What's the matter? You got an exam?"
"No. as a matter of fact, we get a break from school about then. But I'll need a passport, won't I?"
"Of course. What's the matter, did you lose it?"
"/didn't lose it." And he went on to tell what happened. "They lost it— one of those Keystone Kops evidently misplaced it." he added indignantly. "And if they sent it out today. I won't get it tomorrow because it's the Sabbath and they don't deliver on the Sabbath. And even if it comes Sunday. I won't get it until noon because that's when my mail is delivered."
"I don't think you'll get it Sunday either." said his father slowly.
"Why not?"
"Because— well, because although the police here may be a bunch of bunglers, even Keystone Kops as you call them, but on passports they never make mistakes— except on purpose."
"What are you getting at?" Roy was uneasy. "You were questioned Monday? Tuesday?"
"Tuesday."
"All right." said Dan. "and today is Friday. That's four days, and you still haven't received it. I think they've pulled your passport. And in a country like this, surrounded by countries at war. you might just as well be in jail. You can't go anywhere, not even to a hotel in another city. And any time they want to, they can pick you up. Why didn't you go down and see them when it didn't come in the mail?"
"I did. I was there this morning. Nobody knew anything about it. And when I tried to see this inspector, the one I told you about, the one with the yarmulke, they said he was out and wasn't expected back."
"That's what I was afraid of." his father muttered.
"But surely." said the rabbi, "if you go to the American consul here—"
"No. I don't think that's too good an idea. Maybe Sunday I'll take a run down to Tel Aviv and see the people at the embassy."
"But then it will be too late for the trip." Roy protested.
"There'll be other chances. Maybe his next trip out."
When the Stedmans left. Dan purposely steered the conversation away from the subject of police and passports. "How did you enjoy the evening?" he asked his son.
"I had a nice time. I liked the rabbi."
"You were fighting with him all night."
"That doesn't make any difference." Roy said. "He wasn't yes-yessing me like some of the profs do at home who are always trying to get on with the kids. You know the drilclass="underline" 'Now that's a good question' or 'That's a very interesting point Stedman has brought up.' And he didn't talk down to me either. We argued like equals."
They came to where they had to separate. "Er, Roy, about that passport, don't worry about it. Maybe I'll run down to Tel Aviv tomorrow."
"But it's the Sabbath. You'd have to cab down. It will cost about fifty lira."
"Yeah, but I can take either the sherut or the bus back, and that's only three and a half."
As Roy trudged home, stopping whenever he heard a car to jerk out a thumb for a ride, he went over the whole business in his mind. If the police inspector thought he was really involved in the murder, why had he been so pleasant to him? Why hadn't he questioned him more intensively? On the other hand, if the interrogation had been all it appeared, why did they have to check his passport so thoroughly? Maybe his father was right and they had actually pulled his passport; then why couldn't they simply go to the American consulate in Jerusalem and have them get it back for him? Why did his father think it necessary to go to the embassy in Tel Aviv? And on the Sabbath? It couldn't be just to expedite matters so they could make the boat trip, because the embassy wouldn't be able to do much before Sunday and by then it would be too late. But then why did his father tell him not to worry? If there was really nothing to worry about, why was he going down to Tel Aviv on the Sabbath? And if there was. why didn't he just tell him? Did he think he was a kid who couldn't be told the truth?
Then Roy really started to worry.
Chapter Thirty-Five
There's nothing official about this. Rabbi." said Marty Drexler. "We want to make that plain at the beginning. Don't we, Bert?"
Bert Raymond nodded. "That's right. Marty had this idea, and he spoke to me about it, and I said we ought to come over to see you first before we started doing anything— you know, talking it up among the fellows, laying the groundwork."
Rabbi Deutch looked from one of his two visitors to the other. His fingers drummed on the arm of his chair. "It's something I'd have to think about." he said at last in his deep baritone voice. It was the voice he used in the pulpit, several notches below the tones he used to tell his wife how he wanted his eggs cooked for breakfast. "I served my congregation in Darlington faithfully for thirty years. There were many who wanted me to continue, but I felt that I needed a much deserved rest. There was work of a scholarly nature that I wanted to do. Traditionally, a rabbi is primarily a scholar, gentlemen. Frankly, one of my reasons for coming to Barnard's Crossing was its close proximity to the great libraries of Boston and Cambridge.
And even in the short time I’ve been here. I’ve made use of them. However. I have also enjoyed my work with the congregation, and I must admit it has not seriously interfered with the works of research and scholarship in which I am engaged. How it would work out over the long haul is another matter. I'd have to give it careful thought."
"Well, sure, we know that. It's not that we want your answer right away," said Marty eagerly.
"It's not only a question of my own personal inclinations." Rabbi Deutch went on as though he had not been interrupted. "There is also an ethical and moral question. I came here originally as a substitute for Rabbi Small—"
"But he's not the one who picked you." said Marty. Although he felt a good deal of constraint in Rabbi Deutch's presence, unlike his reaction to Rabbi Small, he could not keep restrained for long. "I mean it isn't as though he asked you to come and take his place. It was the board that did. I mean you’re not his choice, so it isn't as though you owe him anything."
"Well—"
"Marty is right, you know," said Raymond judicially. "I can see where you would feel bound to him if he had asked you to come and take his place. Even if he had recommended you to the board without consulting you first— that is, if he had submitted your name to the board as a possible candidate— but he had nothing to do with it. When he told us that he wanted a long vacation— and mind you. he didn't ask us, he just told us— we discussed what we ought to do. There was even some talk on the board of not engaging anyone, you know, just arranging for someone from the seminary to come down now and then."