"Well if he did it—"
"Yeah, but what if he didn't? We don't have a single particle of evidence against him any more than we have against the others. But what happens when I lay it all out in front of Clegg, he sees right away that he has the best case against Billy—his bringing the gun in the first place. Jordon shaming him in front of his boss, his running off. But more than that, the boy is alone here and has no friends which makes him an easy mark."
"But Clegg is a pretty decent guy and—"
"He's the district attorney, which means he's first of all a pol, and that means he's interested in publicity. So here's a suspect whose ma is a TV personality. Have you any idea what Clegg could do with that? And do you know what it could do to Billy, and his mother?"
"Okay. So all that's left is Maltzman." "Did you check on him?"
"When could I check?" Jennings was aggrieved. "You’ve had me here with you all the time. But I did leave word that Patrolman Maclsaac was to stop by as soon as ha came on duty, he was on duty at the temple that night, maybe he—"
"You put Maclsaac on duty at the temple?"
Jennings grinned. "Well, it seemed kind of fitting." He glanced at his watch. "He should be here about now." He pressed the button on the intercom and spoke to the desk sergeant. "Has Maclsaac come in yet?"
"Just coming in the door now. Lieutenant." came the metallic squawk in reply.
"Fine. Send him in."
Maclsaac was a tall young man with a bony, freckled face and red hair, he was relatively new on the force and still in awe of the chief, he stood at attention in front of the desk.
"You were on duty at the temple a week ago Friday night?" asked Lanigan.
"Yes, sir, every Friday night, the cruiser drops me off a little after eight and picks me up around nine."
"Nine? The service starts at half past eight, doesn't it?"
"Yes, Sir, but folks keep coming in after that for a little while. Some of them, just as I'm leaving, they have some refreshments after the service. I understand, and I guess some of the folks come for that, and to stand around and visit, that's what Stanley Doble says, he comes out to talk to me sometimes. Now, take that Friday night, the cruiser didn't come by until a quarter past and somebody came in right about then. It was the president himself, Mr. Maltzman."
"How do you know it was Mr. Maltzman?" asked Jennings. "You know him?"
"Oh sure, we bought our house from him, he stopped his car when he saw me, and we talked for a minute, he asked me if there was a crowd, and I said I thought there was."
"You sure it was a quarter past nine?"
"Well, after nine I began wondering what was keeping the cruiser, and then Mr. Maltzman came along, and like I said. I talked to him, and then I noticed the cruiser had come along and was parked at the curb waiting for me. I asked Sergeant Lindquist, who was on the wheel, how come he was so late, that was just after Mr. Maltzman went on to park, you understand, and the sergeant looked at his watch and said it was only a quarter past."
"So what time did Maltzman get there? This is important." "Well, I'd say between ten past and quarter past."
When he had gone. Lanigan said. "I think I ought to have a little talk with Henry Maltzman, and I want it down here at the stationhouse. Now I really want to know where he was."
"What if he won't come and tells you it's none of your business like he told McLure?"
"I'll make sure he comes. I'm getting a warrant from Judge Turner and I'm going to have you bring him in."
"A warrant charging him with murder?"
"That's right."
"You think he did it?"
"No. I don't. But he's going to talk, or he'll stay here—"
"You think he knows something that could help us?" persisted Jennings.
"I doubt it."
"Look here. Hugh." said Jennings earnestly, "you're kind of frustrated about this case and you're letting it get the better of your judgment. If you don't really think he knows anything that will help us and—"
"I’ve got a conference with the district attorney first thing Monday morning. I'm going to have to tell him that I don't have a shred of evidence against any one person, we'll go over every one involved in the case, and when we come to Maltzman, am I going to say I don't know where he was at the time of the shooting because he said it was none of my business? This from the guy who threatened to kill him? In the very way we found him killed?"
"Yeah, I see your point. I just wonder how the Jews in town will react, especially your friend. Rabbi Small."
Lanigan nodded. "Maybe I ought to tell him about it first."
44
BEFORE THE CHANGE IN THE BYLAWS, THERE HAD BEEN three vice-presidents, the intention was that the first vice-president would succeed when the president's term expired, the other two would then move up and only a new third vice-president would be elected by the congregation at large. Envisioned, had been a kind of self-perpetuating board about whose composition the general membership would have little to say. It never worked, they continued to elect three vice-presidents, but the positions were purely honorary.
Under the new order, there was only one vice-president, and his sole function was to chair the meeting in the absence of the president. Barry Fisher had not wanted to run for vice-president but had agreed to only because Henry Maltzman had asked him, he had been a friend of Maltzman's and devoted to him ever since they had been in high school together. Now, in middle age, they were even closer, in part because his insurance agency nicely complemented Maltzman's real estate business, and they were in a position to do each other favors. While it was regrettable that "the girls." their wives, didn't hit it off together, it did not seriously interfere with their friendship, they saw each other several nights a week to go to the hockey or baseball games in Boston or to work out at the local Y, they lunched together or conferred on the phone almost daily.
It was Saturday afternoon and they had just finished a game of squash, which Barry Fisher, who was thin and wiry, had won quite easily, he was good at racket games, his long legs easily covering the court and his long arms reaching seemingly impossible shots, as usual, he explained apologetically., "I guess I was lucky."
To which Maltzman gave his usual magnanimous answer, "No, Barry, you're good." And then added complainingly, "Jesus, you don't even sweat."
"Maybe I got nothing to sweat."
They showered and toweled down and then went to the locker room to dress. Seeing they were alone. Barry Fisher asked, "How does it look for tomorrow?"
"In the bag," said Maltzman. "We've got eight votes, solid." "So that's eight to six. I'd say that was pretty close." "A margin of two votes. What do you want?"
"Yeah, Hank, but if one of ours decided to go the other way, that would make it a tie, seven to seven."
"So then it would be up to me to cast the tie-breaking vote. But those eight votes, believe me, they're solid."
"No chance of picking up any of the six? How about Jessica Berger or Linda Svolitch?"
Maltzman shook his head. "Allen Glick sounded out Jessica. No go, she was on some committee with the rabbi's wife and thinks the world of her. Now, I ask you, is she going to vote against renewing the rabbi's contract?"
"And Linda?"
"You mentioned her because she's Women's Lib. Right? Well, I figured her as a possible, too, in spite of their being like kind of Orthodox. So I talked to Mike Svolitch, well, according to him, the sun rises and sets on Rabbi Small. Lucky I didn't come out and ask him point-blank, because I'm sure he would have gone running to the rabbi." He chuckled. "The way I put it to him, I said I'd heard a rumor that some of the board including Linda were planning to vote against renewing the rabbi's contract and whether there was any truth to it."