“Oh yes.” said Lanigan. “Why do you regard that as especially important?”
“Because it means that after they left, anyone could have got in.”
“If they had known.” Lanigan interjected swiftly. “But it wouldn’t have made any difference to someone with a key.”
“Like who?”
“Like a man named Paff. Know him? He’s a member of your temple.”
“Meyer Paff?”
“That’s right. He had a key to the place and was around there that night at about the right time.”
Rabbi Small did not answer immediately. “Look here,” he said at last, “obviously there’s much about this case I don’t know. There’s no reason for me to know it. It’s police business. But if it concerns members of my congregation and you want me to cooperate—”
“Keep your shirt on. Rabbi. I was planning to give it all to you.” He went to the hall closet and returned with an attaché case. “Here’s a copy of Paff s statement.”
The rabbi read it through and then looked up and said mildly, “It seems straightforward enough.”
“Oh, it is.” said Lanigan hastily. “And yet, there are some interesting aspects to the very fact that he was there. For one thing, he knew the boy. Moose worked for him.”
“Mr. Paff is an active member of the Boosters Club here in town and knows most of the high school athletes. He would certainly know Moose Carter.”
“It’s just a little detail. Here’s another. The Lynn bowling alley has been under the surveillance of the Lynn police.
They suspect it of being a distribution point for pot. Paff owns it, and that was where Moose used to work evenings as an assistant manager.”
“Are you suggesting that Moose did the distributing and that Paff killed him for it?”
“That’s a possibility.” said Lanigan judiciously.
“Almost anything is.” said the rabbi with a shrug. “But I doubt if you’re really serious about Mr. Paff—”
“No, and why not?”
“Well, for one thing. I don’t think you would have gone to the trouble of rounding up these youngsters and questioning them all evening.”
“That’s for sure.” he grinned. “But unlike you. Rabbi. I found this meeting with the kids very enlightening.”
“Indeed!”
“In fact, it practically proved what I’ve suspected all along, but I had to have this meeting to confirm it. A definite pattern developed—and it all points unmistakably to
Jenkins.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, it started when Moose first joined the group. He began to ride Jenkins, and there is no doubt from what the kids said that the colored fellow was burning about it. They were all in agreement on that.”
“But Jenkins didn’t do anything about it. None of them reported him as saying anything,” the rabbi observed.
“No, and he didn’t come out swinging at any time either. Maybe it would have been better if he had. That kind of thing builds up. He doesn’t say anything until Moose is being wrapped up in the sheet. Then he cracks they ought to put it over his head. The Jacobs boy said he was joking, but you know that a lot of jokes—things that just pop out—are meant seriously.”
“Go on.”
“Next point: Jacobs leaves the door off the latch. Now who knows that? Why, only Jacobs. You remember I questioned him on that rather closely. He was the last one out, and he set the latch. Now later, when they were in the
Epstein house and were planning to go back for Moose. Gorfinkle asked how they were going to get in and it was then that Jacobs told the others that he had set the latch so that it wouldn’t lock. It’s the usual front-door lock with two buttons. One releases the latch, and the other locks it. And notice, that’s when Jenkins said he had to be getting right home because he was setting out for New York the next morning early.”
“And you think he rode off and on the wav to Boston stopped off at Hillson House.”
“I’m damn sure of it. He had the opportunity; that is, he had transportation—his motorbike. And he had the motive. He’s the only one we know definitely had a motive.”
“Because young Carter made fun of him? Did it ever occur to you that Jenkins might be used to this kind of embarrassment? That this incident probably was merely another of a long series of similar incidents he has had to suffer all his life?”
“You mean you can get used to it. Sure, but it can also build up. And this could have been the last straw. You can argue these things either way. I should think you’d be happy over the turn of events.”
“Happy? Happy that a young man who has visited in my house however briefly is suspected of murder?”
“Come on. Rabbi. Let’s be practical. Moose Carter was murdered, and that means that somebody murdered him. Now who are the suspects? Well, up till now it has been the kids from your congregation and Meyer Paff, another of your people. I should think that you’d be happy that it’s not them, that it’s not somebody you’re closely associated with, that it’s somebody from out of town, a stranger.”
“Ah, the stranger. Thank God for the stranger.”
The rabbi rose from his chair and began striding back and forth across the room. “We Jews celebrate the Passover in a couple of days. In many respects it’s a most unique holiday, and we celebrate it in a unique way. We begin by cleaning the house of all foods and even all utensils that we use during the year, and during the week of the festival we not only buy special foods, but prepare them in special utensils and eat them from special dishes with special silverware that are used for just that week. Then on the eve of the holiday we have a feast, which is repeated the following night. And in each case the feast is preceded by an elaborate ritual in which the youngest person present asks the meaning of the feast, of the unusual foods that we eat, and the unusual manner of eating them. And then we, the rest of the company, explain how we were slaves in Egypt and were oppressed and how God responded to our suffering by bringing us forth with a mighty hand from our slavery and oppression.”
“Yes, Rabbi. I know the reason for the holiday. But what’s the point?”
“The point is that Passover is not merely a holiday of thanksgiving or rejoicing. We have several such holidays, but this is the only one that has a very elaborate and specific ritual and involves the use of a special set of instructions, the Haggadah, to make sure we follow it exactly right. Why?”
“Tell me.”
“To engrave the lessons it teaches on our minds.” said the rabbi. “It’s a mnemonic, a string around the finger, a way of forcing on our consciousness and memory what people would rather not think of or would easily forget.”
“Once a year the Pope washes and kisses the feet of beggars.” Lanigan said.
“Precisely. And no doubt he profits by the lesson in humility that it teaches him.” said the rabbi primly. Then he added as an afterthought. “It’s a pity it isn’t required of all members of your faith.”
Lanigan laughed. “All right. Rabbi. Now what is it that your holiday teaches?”
“It is associated with a specific commandment that is central in our law: ‘And if a stranger sojourn with thee in your land, ye shall not do him wrong… he shall be as the homeborn among you; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.’”
“You saying that I’m being unfair to Jenkins because he’s colored and from out of town?”
“Do you have him in custody, and has he confessed?”
“We haven’t got him yet, Rabbi, but we’ll get him. It’s that motorbike of his—it’s not like a car. You can wheel one of those over the sidewalk into a hallway or even a cellar, and how is it to be found? But I have alerted the New York police, and they’ll find him.”
“But you don’t have any real evidence against him—only what you consider his motive and the opportunity.”