Lanigan shook his head. “No. Rabbi, stick to the essentials. He was sore because Moose—what’s the term the kids use? Dumped, that’s it—dumped on him. The idea of covering his head was in his mind, because he made the remark. Remember, he didn’t deny making it. He wanted to get even with Moose. He admits that. He even admits going into the room where Moose was lying. And while he was looking down on him, he thought of the things Moose had said, and he picked up that last fold of the sheet and pulled it over his head and tucked it in. And if you don’t think it happened that way, you’ve got to come up with some mysterious stranger who somehow knows that Moose is there, who can get into the house, who knows that Moose is conveniently tied up and then covers his head.” He paused an impressive moment. “The only ones who fit that set of particulars, Rabbi, are your two young friends. Gorfinkle and Jacobs.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
They were not hostile to the idea; they were just not enthusiastic. And it bothered Roger Epstein. “I don’t understand.” he said, “we’re supposed to be all for social action.” He turned to Brennerman. “You said that you wanted to see the temple involved. And you. Ben, social action is supposed to be the key to your whole program. Are you interested only when it’s at a distance, someplace down South?”
“No. of course not, Roger.” said Gorfinkle easily. “It’s just that the key word is justice. Now you heard the news broadcast; what’s more. I called my brother-in-law to check on that report, and he said it was accurate. He got it himself from Lanigan. Now, maybe I’m wrong, but my impression is that this colored fellow—what’s his name? Jenkins—my impression is that Jenkins is guilty as all hell. You get a bunch of red-necks down in some Southern town framing some boy because he’s colored, and I’m prepared to go all out. But this fellow was caught dead to rights.”
“That’s the wav I feel.” said Brennerman.
“Me too.” said Jacobs.
“I don’t see how you can be so sure.” Epstein began.
“Aw. come.” said Gorfinkle, “you don’t believe, you don’t really believe, that he’d go back there just to steal a handful of cigarettes, do you?”
“And remember.” Jacobs pointed out, “our own kids are involved in this. Roger—your Didi as well as my Bill and Ben’s boy, Stu.”
“Sure, and what if one of them found himself in the position of this boy?” demanded Epstein. “I don’t care whether he did it or not; he still has the right to a fair trial.”
“He’ll get one, won’t he? This is Massachusetts. There won’t be any funny stuff here, no lynch mob—”
“What kind of a fair trial can he get when he doesn’t even have a lawyer?” demanded Epstein.
“If that’s what’s worrying you, forget it.” said Gorfinkle. “As far as I know, he hasn’t been formally charged yet. When he is, the court will appoint a lawyer if he doesn’t have one or if he can’t afford one.”
“Sure. I understand there’s a fixed fee for that kind of legal service, something like five hundred dollars. And you know what kind of a lawyer he’ll get—some kid just out of law school who maybe hasn’t tried a case yet.”
“What do you want us to do. Roger?”
“I want us to show that we mean what we say and have the courage of our convictions. Jenkins has the right to a good lawyer, a good trial lawyer, someone like Warren Donohue, say. I’d like for us to start a Jenkins Defense Committee to raise funds so we could get him. You mark my words, before this is over a lot of the more liberal churches are going to get involved in this. So why can’t we be the first, instead of tagging along after the others?”
Gorfinkle pursed his lips and considered. “Well, you know, you might just have something there. But Donohue’s fee comes high.”
“So what?” Brennerman was excited now. “And can we get him?”
“If we can raise his fee.” said Jacobs, “why not? Our money’s as good as the next guy’s.”
“And if we set up a Defense Committee, we can raise his fee.” said Brennerman, “if we go about it right.”
“We could solicit funds from the entire community.” said Epstein, “but it would have to be a temple project, not just something we as individuals are sponsoring.”
“And that ties right into our program!” exclaimed Brennerman.
“Now that presents problems.” said Gorfinkle, “because if we offer it as a temple project, the rabbi is going to have something to say about it. And right now, my stock isn’t exactly soaring with our rabbi. As a matter of fact, so far as he knows he’s on his way out at the next board meeting.”
“Yeah. I’m afraid you jumped the gun. Ben.” said Brennerman gloomily. “You shouldn’t have fired him—”
“I didn’t fire him.” said Gorfinkle. “I just warned him. And if this whole business hadn’t come up. I still think it was the right thing to do.”
“We all agreed to it. remember.” said Jacobs, “so don’t go blaming Ben.”
“Well, mind you. I’m not blaming you. Ben,” said Epstein, “but I’m inclined to think that regardless of the present situation, we acted too fast. I for one feel funny about it.”
To Gorfinkle this was criticism from an unexpected source. “What is it you feel funny about, Roger?” he asked quietly.
“I feel funny about the whole deal. I feel funny about me, a new man at this temple business, firing the rabbi, who’s been involved with it all his life. I feel funny about being chairman of the Ritual Committee. In a way, that’s what set the whole business off, but I certainly never thought it would split the congregation. If I had. I wouldn’t have let you talk me into it. Well, maybe it’s not too late to repair the damage. I’m bowing out as of right now.”
“Bowing out of what?” demanded Jacobs.
“I’m declining the nomination for chairman of the Ritual Committee. And I’m not waiting for you to announce it at the next board meeting. I think, considering what the nomination resulted in. I ought to tell the rabbi myself. It would be a good chance to get him behind this Defense Committee, and maybe he’ll figure a way to speak to Paff and his group and pull the pieces together.”
“You mean you think I ought to keep Paff as chairman? Is that your idea. Roger?” asked Gorflnkle.
“No. but I don’t see why you can’t get someone else, someone who’s neutral. How about Wasserman?”
“Yeah, how about Wasserman?” said Brennerman. “Well…”
Chapter Fifty-Three
They were playing halfheartedly, their minds not on the game. Quite early in the evening Irving Kallen pushed his chair back. “I’ve had enough,” he said. “I just can’t seem to get interested.”
“Once around?” asked Paff. “If you want.”
Dr. Edelstein pushed back from the table, too. “What’s the point. Meyer? Personally, I’d rather have a cup of coffee.”
“That’s easy enough.” said Paff. He tilted back his chair and called out to his wife in another room. “How about some coffee for the boys, Laura?” He gathered in the cards that were lying on the table and riffled them. “I was in Chelsea yesterday, and I bumped into this fellow I know—his brother is a rabbi, a real Orthodox type—and I happened to mention about somebody dying in a place that was going to be used for a synagogue. According to him, he didn’t think that ruled it out. He said he’d ask his brother, though.”
“Forget it. Meyer.” said Kermit Arons. “Hillson House is out. Remember, it wasn’t just somebody dying. After all, in our own temple, you remember Arthur Barron had a heart attack—was it two years ago?”