"As you say. it would be a remarkable coincidence and so not very likely," the rabbi admitted. "The likelihood would be that if Memavet were killed by a blow on the head, then the killer would have been the one who planted the bomb."
"Why? Why would he want to bomb him if he had already killed him?"
"Why?" the rabbi echoed. "Because anyone can kill with a blow on the head, and so anyone can be suspected of it. But a bomb implies terrorists, and they are usually obliging enough to claim the credit for it."
"But you have suggested that it was Dr. Ben Ami who did the killing. Where would the doctor get a bomb? Do you think doctors carry them around in their bags?"
The rabbi was troubled and his face showed it. "I am relatively new here, so I don't know what is possible and what isn't. But the country is at war and has been for some time. I thought perhaps a bomb, or at least explosives, might not be hard to come by. Gittel had mentioned that Eh". Ben Ami got you this apartment, so I thought that perhaps he was connected with the contractor in some way
"He's his brother; he's Phil Resnik's brother." Adoumi interjected. "So what?"
"Well, contractors do a lot of blasting." the rabbi went on doggedly, "and I thought—"
"You thought he could just go to his brother and ask for a few sticks of dynamite?" asked Adoumi jocularly. He laughed. "Was it your idea that Phil Resnik gave his brother some dynamite to experiment with," he went on. his voice dripping with sarcasm, "or did Dr. Ben Ami run down to see him at home after he killed Memavet, get the dynamite, wire it up, maybe rig a timing device to it, and run back here to set it?" His eyes flicked at Stedman and Gittel and saw that they were squirming in embarrassment. His tone changed, and he went on, not unkindly, "It is a good effort, Rabbi, even ingenious, but the fact of the matter is that it wasn't that kind of bomb at all. It was a special type that the terrorists have used before. It looks like a small plastic radio. We have run descriptions of it in the press..." His voice trailed off as he realized that the rabbi was not listening. Instead, he was staring up at the ceiling.
"Resnik, Resnik," the rabbi murmured. "It must be." He leaned forward. "When we went to see Memavet. Dan and his son and I. he told us a long story about a terrible injury he had received at the hands of a certain Dr. Rasnikov."
"That's right." said Stedman. "I remember. Rasnikov was the name of the doctor who assigned him to the Forestry Detail."
"We were perfect strangers to him. mind you." the rabbi went on. "But he told us just the same. It was obviously an idée fixe with him, and the chances are he told it to many people."
The rabbi got up and began to pace the floor, the eyes of the others following him. "Rasnikov. Resnik— it's the same name. I don't know any Russian, but I know that the 'ov' is a common suffix in Russian and means 'son of.' I don't know what Resnik means—"
"Shohet," said Gittel promptly, "a resnik is a shohet, a ritual slaughterer."
"Is that so? Well, it's the same name— shohet or son of a shohet. The one who went to America, the contractor— Phil, did you say?— shortened Rasnikov to Resnik because it had a more American sound just as the family called itself Rasnikov in Russia because it had a more Russian sound. And the one who came here chose an Israeli name because— because many people do and the state encourages it—"
"You fill out a form and you pay a lira." said Gittel.
"Precisely. And although a shohet is a dignified and honorable profession with us, he did not take the name of Shohet or Ben Shohet or Bar Shohet. I suppose because it has unfortunate connotations for someone in the medical profession. Instead, he took the common name of Ben Ami. And Memavet had no way of knowing that Ben Ami was Rasnikov and so did not hesitate to call him when he needed a doctor. That is a coincidence, if you like, but one that is quite likely to happen in this country because it is small both in area and population and because Jews from all parts of the world feel drawn to it. Sooner or later, you are apt to meet the most unexpected Jews. I met one when I had been here less than a week. I would have sworn it was the last place I would see him, but he had come here and settled. After meeting Willard Abbot at the Wall. I do not think it so unlikely that the doctor whom Memavet called should turn out to be his old enemy. Dr. Rasnikov."
"And you think they recognized each other when he came in?"
"If all there is to the story is what Memavet told us, then I doubt if the doctor recognized him." said the rabbi. "It's possible, but not likely. The doctor had only seen him a couple of times very briefly. There was no reason why he should remember him. But Memavet would remember the doctor. His face was photographed on his mind. I suppose he called him by his old name—"
"And the doctor remembered him and they fought?"
"More likely, Memavet came at him with the bottle, and the doctor pushed him away violently, and he struck his head on the shelf."
There was silence, and all eyes were on Adoumi as he gnawed on his lower lip to induce cerebration. "It's possible." he said at last, "but the bomb, how could he get hold of a bomb?"
"He probably couldn't get hold of one if he tried." said the rabbi, "but after the publicity you gave it, and the picture of it you ran in the papers, he'd recognize one when he saw it."
"What do you mean?"
"There was no car on Mazel Tov Street, no car parked in front of Memavet's house. Roy was explicit about that. Which meant the doctor must have come on foot. Where could he have come from? In his statement to the press he said he sandwiched in his visit to Memavet before another call. So he must have come here to see your wife. Anywhere else, even in the immediate vicinity, he would have got into his car. But if he had come here first, rather than get back into his car and turn around in this narrow muddy street, he would walk down the alley that connects the two streets. So he must have come from here."
"Well, that's true enough because he phoned me at my office and asked when I'd be home, that there was something important he had to tell me."
"He put it that way?" asked the rabbi curiously. "That there was something important he had to tell you?"
"Why, yes."
"I mean in those very words?" the rabbi persisted.
Adoumi pursed his lips and stared up at the ceiling. Then he faced the rabbi and nodded." 'I have something important to tell you.' That's what he said. I'm sure because I naturally assumed he had just seen Sarah and there had been some sudden change. But he told me he hadn't seen her yet. The house was dark, you see, so he knew I hadn't got home yet. Or maybe he noticed that my car was not where I usually park it."
"And he knew what your position is, the kind of work you do?"
"Oh, certainly. Not because he was a friend, you understand, but"— he smiled faintly—"because there was a possibility that my wife's sickness might have some connection with my work. Gittel never tires of telling me that if I want my wife to get well. I should give up my job."
Gittel nodded vigorously. "And you should. Avner."
Before Adoumi could retort, the rabbi said. "It explains things, doesn't it?"
"What does it explain?" demanded Adoumi.
"It explains why he did not notify the police when he found the bomb." said the rabbi triumphantly.
"What bomb? What are you talking about?" Adoumi was exasperated.
Stedman and Gittel were equally mystified, but they remained silent.
"Look here. Dr. Ben Ami comes here and parks his car in front of your door. Then he realizes that you are probably not at home because the apartment is dark. Some doctors are reluctant to see a married woman alone, or the women are. or the husbands. Whatever the reason, he decides to see his other patient first. He probably knows you'll be along shortly, and he can see your wife after he's seen his other patient. But the other patient is in the corresponding apartment on the next block, and there is an alley between the two streets. So he takes his bag and walks down the alley." He got up and walked over to the window and stood looking out into the alley between the house and the embankment. "It was a cloudy night, misty. Later it began to rain, if you remember. So probably he used his flashlight to light his way along the alley, which must have been pretty dark at the time. My guess is that he saw the bomb on the sill of this window which can't be seen too easily from the street."