"Yes, I've noticed it, as you pointed out, his attitude was like that of the officers, especially the line officers, when I was a chaplain in the army, and Henry Maltzman is still very much an officer, there was a grudging admission that maybe we in the Chaplain's Corps might help maintain morale, and hence to that extent we were useful. But otherwise, there was no meeting of minds. I suppose they resented that they couldn't give us orders when they outranked us. I think they felt that way toward the Medical Corps, too, a captain in the Medics once told me that whenever he told an infantry colonel to take his shirt off, he used to wait a minute or two so that the sound of teeth gritting didn't interfere with the sounds he was trying to hear through the stethoscope. Yes, I think Henry Maltzman would prefer a more complaint rabbi to deal with, he may even be trying to do something about it. It certainly wouldn't surprise me."
"And what are you planning to do about it?" "Nothing," he said simply. "There's nothing I can do." She was annoyed with him. "You mean, you're giving up?
You've had trouble with previous residents, and you've fought them—"
"It's different now,” he said.
"How is it different?" she challenged.
"Now that they've got an executive committee of fifteen, it only takes eight votes not to renew my contract." He smiled ruefully. "Maybe I outsmarted myself when I turned down the lifetime contract, although if I had a life contract, they could get me out easily enough by voting something that I couldn't possibly condone. Still. I'll admit it's easier for them now."
"And you wouldn't do anything about it?"
"What can I do about it? Ask the individual members of the board not to fire me? And what would my position be afterward?"
"So what will you do?" she asked, her voice betraying exasperation.
He smiled faintly. "I suppose this time I'll have to leave it in the hands of God and hope for the best."
26
"I HATE THIS KIND OF CASE," DECLARED STATE DETECTIVE Sergeant McLure. "It can drag on for months, and we can end up with nothing. Or we might be dead certain we know who did it, and the D.A, will find that we don't have enough to go to court with."
"What's so different about this case?" asked Jennings defensively, as though McLure, from the big city, was casting aspersions on a local product. In any case, the question was rhetorical rather than because he was interested in any answer McLure might give, they were sitting along with Lanigan around the dining room table in the Jordon house, the three of them limp, rather than relaxed, feeling the letdown that followed the tensions and the hectic work of the day.
"Well, if it's a professional job, either we know who had it in for the victim, and then it's a job of breaking down an alibi—because they make damn sure they've got an alibi—or we get someone to talk. You can do pretty good if you've managed to build up a stable of stoolies. On the other hand, if it's amateur, then it's usually a matter of finding out who hated the victim's guts. But in this case, the victim, as near as I can make out, was a pretty nasty specimen, any one of the people who were here at the house last night might have wanted to give him the business because he quarreled with every one of them. Not to mention the guy who called him on the phone earlier. Or, for that matter, someone whose name hasn't even been mentioned, who could have dropped in on him."
"I suppose that's true enough." said Lanigan. "but—"
"And another thing," McLure went on, "take the matter of the weapon. Usually, it gives you a lead. Or you have the bullet and when you get it matched up with a particular gun, you've practically got your case. But here, the gun was lying on the table in plain sight. So if this Martha came back, or her boyfriend, or this guy that called, or the kid Billy, well, there it was, ready to hand, so to speak."
"Yeah, but on the other hand, there's the pattern of the shooting," said Jennings. "The doc said it was like a woman firing away with her eyes closed until the cylinder was empty. I buy that."
"But it could also be a kid who's crazy about guns, and yet doesn't know anything about them." McLure pointed out. "Or take this Stanley—"
"Not Stanley^ said Jennings with conviction. "He goes up to Maine every year and brings back a deer."
"Yeah, but he's something of a boozer. I gather, and if he got tanked up first—"
"What time is it?" Lanigan asked suddenly. "It's almost six." said Jennings. "Why?"
For answer. Lanigan reached for the phone and dialed a number. Into the receiver he said. "Miriam? It's Hugh Lanigan. Is David there?"
"He's at the temple for the evening service."
"Oh, I figured since it was after sundown it was all right to call."
"Well, it is. But that's when they start the service. It takes about fifteen or twenty minutes, and he'll be walking home, of course. Shall I have him call you when he comes in?"
"Maybe you can tell me. Did you go to the service last night?" '
"Yes, of course. I go every Friday night."
Lanigan signaled to Jennings who lifted the extension and simultaneously pulled over a pad of paper. "Was Henry Maltzman there?"
"I believe so. Yes. I'm sure he was. Why?" "And Stanley Doble? Was he there?"
"I didn't see him, but I wouldn't be likely to since he'd be down in the vestry helping with the preparations for the collation afterward. Why? Is something the matter?"
"Just routine. Miriam, that's all. Thanks."
After making note of the time and the date Jennings ripped the sheet off the pad and filed it in the ever-increasing folder of the case.
"If the medical examiner confirms the time of the killing as half past eight, that eliminates Henry Maltzman." said Lanigan. "As I expected, he was at the temple last night, they start at half past eight." He squared his shoulders and sat up straight, as if to signal that the period of relaxation was over and it was time to get back to work. "Now, let's list what we've got to do, the first thing is to clear away the brush, eliminate the unlikely, so we won't waste any time. Besides Maltzman, Gore seems to have a pretty good alibi, he says he stopped at a gas station to make a phone call around that time, he called from the office, so maybe the gas station attendant remembers. Check with this Mrs. Mandell that he called, she might remember the time. If he's out of it, then we don't have to bother about him either. See?"
"Yeah, but Maltzman, he could have gone there earlier and maybe seen something or heard something," said McLure. "I'd like to question him."
"Okay, then question him. But he's a tough monkey, he was a captain in the Marines—"
"I’ve had lots of experience with tough monkeys." said McLure, "and when I was in the service I was a buck private, so I kind of like to take on officers."
Lanigan winked at his lieutenant and said, "All right, so let's consider the others. First of all, especially Martha."
Jennings opened the folder and found the notes on their interrogation of her earlier. "She says she left here around seven, and as soon as she got to the street, a bus came along. Got off at Midland Street and walked the two blocks to her house, she decided to stay in and made herself some supper. Stanley came by around seven-thirty, she says she didn't admit him, she watched TV and then went to bed around eleven."
"Seems pretty straightforward." said McLure. "Anything bothering you about it? You think she might have come back afterward? Does she have a car?"
"It was in the garage being worked on. But she could have taken a bus." said Jennings.
"You might be able to check with bus drivers." suggested McLure doubtfully. "Or maybe the neighbors—"
"What's bothering me." said Lanigan. "is the whole setup of Martha as Jordon's housekeeper, she had a job as a checkout clerk at the supermarket. Seems like an easy job, at least you're sitting down rather than on your feet all day. It's forty hours a week, with a paid vacation probably. My guess is it pays about a hundred a week. Now, why would she give that up to become Jordon's housekeeper? He was a hard man with a buck, so I doubt if he paid her more than the supermarket, she'd get hera about eight o'clock and she worked until after the supper dishes were done, which would make it some time after seven. Since she did the cooking, she might have had to come in seven days a week, six anyway. Why would she do it? Was she fired from the supermarket job, or did she quit to take the job with Jordon?"