"How do you know? Maybe his appointment was for later, maybe he had just left the doctor's office and did stop here because he saw the car."
"Then he wouldn't have had a typed copy of the sergeant's receipt with him," said the rabbi triumphantly. "No, there's something bothering Lanigan, and it's not just that Kestler might gossip about Dr. Cohen, all this questioning about burying the old man the next day suggests that he thinks there's something wrong."
"You mean he believes the old man was murdered?"
The rabbi pursed his lips and considered. "Lanigan has been a policeman all his life. When you've been practicing a trade or profession for a long time, you develop a sixth sense about things that relate to it, a little warning bell goes off in your mind. Yesterday, for example, Kaplan was telling me about the funeral and how Joe Kestler acted. His lawyer's sixth sense told him that Kestler was planning to institute a malpractice suit. Something he said tripped that warning bell, well, it's my opinion that Lanigan heard a bell, too."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Friday noon, Chester Kaplan called Safferstein. "That guy that took your coat. Billy., he just brought it back. It was the fellow who came with Cy Perlow. I took the liberty of going through the pockets and I found the envelope with the bottle of pills. You'll be glad to know that the envelope had your name on it, and the label on the bottle also had your name on it, or rather Mona's. So you worried for nothing."
"Thanks, Chet, that is good news, actually, I figured I had given the cop the right envelope because if the name had been wrong, he would have noticed it, then yesterday morning I went into the drugstore to get a refill for Mona. I saw that they put the patient's name on the bottle itself, so I figured even if the Kestlers hadn't looked at the envelope, they'd certainly notice if there was the wrong name on the bottle. I felt pretty sure, but still I was a little uneasy. Believe me. I appreciate your calling me. It's a big relief knowing that I had absolutely nothing to do with Kestler's dying."
"Naturally," said Kaplan. "I'm glad I happened to be home when the coat was delivered. I'm sure Edie wouldn't hava thought to look through the pockets, and I was in the house because we're going up-country to the retreat. How about coming along? I should think you'd be in the right mood for it."
"Gee, I don't think so, Chet, not with Mona sick." "I understand. Remember me to her."
"Will do. By the way, I didn't get a chance to ask you the other night, how does it look, the retreat business, I mean?"
"It looks fine, Billy, just fine, we've got a good majority. Not all of them are interested in the temple acquiring a retreat, you understand, although it's in style these days. But even those who don't like the idea are interested in a campsite where they can come up for a weekend or where their kids can go camping in the summer, actually, the only opposition as far as I can make out is the rabbi."
"Why is the rabbi against it?"
"Well, you know, he's a conservative type guy. Who knows, maybe he's a little jealous of Rabbi Mezzik."
"Yeah, but if Rabbi Small should start arguing about it at the meeting—"
"I doubt if he'll be at the meeting." "Why not?"
"Because this Sunday is Parents Day at the school, so he'll be busy with parents most of the morning. Now, what I'm planning is to hold our meeting at the camp. You know, get everything ironed out, then when we hold our regular meeting Sunday morning, we just put the matter to a vote because we will already have had our discussions, then, we adjourn."
"Gee, that's slick, Chester. I got to hand it to you."
Friday started out badly for Dr. Cohen. Not only was he subjected to Kestler's phone call but he had the embarrassing experience of knowing that Chief Lanigan had overheard the conversation, the day did not improve when his next patient was late, thus disrupting his morning schedule, as a consequence he was still closeted with a patient at noon, and his colleagues went off to lunch without him.
He lunched alone at a nearby diner on a stool facing the wall. No sooner had he returned when the hospital phoned to tell him that a coronary patient he was treating had suffered a relapse and he had better rush over, he stopped just long enough to tell the switchboard operator to call his afternoon patients and reschedule them for next week, as an afterthought, he added, "And Madeleine, call my wife and tell her I won't be coming home."
It was half past two before Dan Cohen was able to leave the hospital, he drove straight to the Kaplan house. But when he arrived, he found no cars in the driveway or parked in front of the house, he had come too late. It seemed a fitting conclusion to the day. Nevertheless, he mounted the steps and rang the bell.
Mrs. Kaplan answered. "Oh, Dr. Cohen, isn't it?" "That's right. I guess they've left already."
"About fifteen minutes ago. Do you know how to get there?"
He shook his head.
"Just a minute. Chet had some maps Xeroxed." She left him and reappeared a moment later. "You won't have any trouble following these directions. It's really quite clear. You might even catch them, they sometimes stop for coffee on the road."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
They had settled in by the time Dr. Cohen arrived at the camp, a large frame building in a clearing in the woods. Through a corridor in the trees, he could see a lake some fifty yards beyond the building, hearing a car. Chester Kaplan came bustling out. "Oh, it's you. Doctor. Gosh, I'm glad you could make it, we got more people this time than we have rooms prepared, so we're doubling up. Isn't it wonderful?" He consulted a clipboard. "Let's see, there are two cots in Room Twelve. I'll put you in there. You'll be in with Matthew Charn. Know him?"
Cohen shook his head.
"He's from Salem, but he's been to most of our retreats. Wonderful man, very sincere, and he'll be able to show you the ropes. Why don't you go up and introduce yourself, we don't stand on formality here."
He tucked his hand in the doctor's arm and, gesturing with the clipboard that he held in the other, he led him up the stairs to the porch. "If the weather is nice, we sit out here a lot. Of course, at night if the bugs are bad..."
Kaplan steered Cohen inside the house and with a wide sweep of the clipboard he introduced him to the room in which they found themselves. "This is our chapel, meeting place, assembly hall, recreation room, you name it. This is where we hang out most of the time." The room was bare except for a table at one end and a number of folding chairs scattered about. It ran the full two stories of the house and above could be seen the peaked roof with slanting joints that met at the rooftree.
"Like a church, huh?" Kaplan commented. "I mean the roof— it's almost Gothic."
"Yeah, very nice," said the doctor.
Another sweep of the clipboard at a balcony railing that ran along one side of the room. "The bedrooms and bathrooms are up there on the mezzanine. You just go up those stairs and Room Twelve is at the end. But first," he pointed the clipboard to the back of the room, "the dining room is beyond those folding doors. If we need to, we can push them back and make one big room, the rebbitzin is in there right now preparing for the Sabbath meal. Come and meet her." He steered the doctor to the partition and the clipboard hand somehow managed to turn the knob and open the door. "Mrs. Mezzik,” he called out cheerily,
"we'll need another place setting for Dr. Cohen here. Dr. Cohen, Mrs. Mezzik, our rabbi's wife."
She was a short dumpy woman in her midthirties, she acknowledged the introduction with a sad, tired smile. To Kaplan, she said, "No trouble, and there's plenty of food. You want to arrange the place cards?"