Friday the Rabbi Slept Late (25 page)

“Not really. I had a vague notion, but it was not until I had seen the radio in the girl’s room that the explanation began to form. Of course, I had an advantage over you because I had reason to be suspicious of Officer Norman from the beginning.”

“What do you mean?”

“He denied that he saw me, but I knew that he had. What reason could he have? Since he did not know me, it could not be a personal dislike. If he had admitted seeing me, it would not have helped his position in any way – only mine. It would have established the fact that I had already left the temple well before the murder had been committed. But if he were guilty or in some way involved, wouldn’t it be to his advantage to have suspicion point at someone else?”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before, rabbi?”

“Because it was only a suspicion, and besides, it is not easy for a rabbi to point a finger at a man and say he is a murderer.”

Lanigan was silent.

“Of course we still have no real proof,” the rabbi ventured.

“I’m not worried about getting it.”

“What do you propose to do?”

“Well, at the moment,” said Lanigan, “I’m not sure whether to ask Norman what Elspeth Bleech said to him on the phone Thursday afternoon, or why he didn’t keep his appointment with her at the Surfside Restaurant. In the meantime, I’ll arrange for that girl Celia to have a look at him. She said Elspeth was with one man most of the evening at the Policemen’s Ball. If your theory’s right, I figure that would be Norman. And we’ll question the Simpsons who live across the street from the Serafinos. If he saw her as often as you think he did, they may have noticed him going in there late at night.”

His lips relaxed in a tight little smile. “When we know what we’re looking for, rabbi, we don’t have too much trouble finding it.”

The Board Meeting was unusual in that the rabbi was present. When Jacob Wasserman had come to him and asked if he would be willing to sit with the board at their regular meeting, he was pleased and grateful.

“You don’t have to, you know. I mean, we won’t hold it against you if you don’t come to a meeting, or to any of them for that matter. I just want you to know that any time you choose to come, we’ll be happy to have you.”

And now he was present at his first meeting. He listened carefully to the secretary read the minutes of the previous meeting. He was most attentive during the reports of the chairmen of various committees. The principal piece of Old Business was a motion to floodlight the parking lot at night.

The original motion had been made by Al Becker and he now rose to speak. “I’ve done a little checking around. We’ve got this electrical contractor that does a lot of work for us and I had him come out and look the place over and give us a very rough figure as to the cost. According to him, we can do it in one of two ways. Either put up three towers, which would come to. about twelve hundred apiece, or we could put up six special floodlights mounted on the temple itself. Mounting them would be cheaper, but it would spoil the outline of the building. We could get those for five hundred apiece, so it’s three thousand against thirty-six hundred. Then we’d have to have a clock arrangement to turn the lights on and off automatically. That wouldn’t cost much, but we’d have to figure in the cost of electricity. All told, the job could be done for five thousand bucks at the outside.”

Becker was nettled at the groan from those around the table. “I know it’s a lot of money, but this is necessary. I’m glad our rabbi is here today because no one knows better than he how important it is to have our parking lot lit up at night.”

“But think what it will cost us year after year, Al. You can’t put sixty-watt bulbs in those babies. In the winter, that can be about fourteen hours.”

“Would you rather have the place become a lovers’ lane, or maybe have another little business like the one we had?” Becker shot back.

“In the summer, those lights will attract a zillion mosquitoes.”

“So – they’ll be up around near the light, won’t they? If anything, it will keep the grounds free of them.”

“That’s not the way it works up at the driving range. When they have those lights on, the mosquitoes are all over the place.”

“And how do you think the people that live nearby are going to like having a place the size of the parking lot lit up all night?”

The rabbi murmured something.

“What is it, rabbi?” Mr. Wasserman asked. “Did you want to say something on this matter?”

“I was just thinking,” said the rabbi diffidently, “there’s only one car entrance to the parking lot. Why can’t you just put up a gate?”

There was sudden silence. Then they all started to explain it to each other.

“Sure, it’s asphalt so nobody would come there except in a car.”

“There are bushes and shrubs all around the front. All we’d have to block off is the driveway.”

“Stanley could close it every night and open it first thing in the morning.”

“Even if Stanley weren’t around some night and a committee wanted to hold a meeting, so they could park their cars in the street.”

As suddenly as they had begun, they stopped and looked at their young rabbi with respect and admiration.

The rabbi was at home, a large volume on the desk in front of him, when his wife came to the door of the study. “Chief Lanigan is here, dear.”

The rabbi started to rise, but Lanigan said, “Don’t get up, rabbi.” Then he noticed the volume on the desk. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all.”

“Nothing special,” Lanigan went on. “Ever since we solved the case I’ve missed our little chats. But I was in the neighborhood, so out of habit I thought I’d drop in and say hello.”

The rabbi smiled his pleasure.

“I just came up against a little bit of pedantry that might amuse you,” Lanigan said. “You know, every two weeks I have to submit the salary schedule for the department to the town comptroller for audit and approval. I list the regular hours worked by each man, overtime if any, special assignments, and then total it up for each man. You understand?”

The rabbi nodded.

“Well, I had the whole thing turned back to me” – Lanigan could not keep the exasperation from showing in his voice – “because Patrolman Norman was included for his full tour of duty. The comptroller claimed he should have been docked for all the time after he killed the girl because, as a criminal, he was no longer entitled to be on the police payroll. How do you like that? I don’t know whether to fight him on it, or just drop the item and forget about it.”

The rabbi pursed his lips and then glanced at the big book on his desk. He smiled. “Shall we see what the Talmud says?”

About the Author

Born in Boston, Massachusetts in 1908, Harry Kemelman was the creator of perhaps one of the most famous religious sleuths: Rabbi David Small. His writing career began with short stories for Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine featuring New England college professor Nicky Welt, the first of which, “The Nine Mile Walk,” is considered to be a classic (the Welt stories were later grouped into a collection with the same title). The Rabbi Small series began in 1964, with Friday the Rabbi Slept Late. It went on to become a bestseller, and won Kemelman an Edgar for “Best First Novel” in 1965. Kemelman died in 1996.

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