Someday the Rabbi Will Leave (21 page)

“He did?” Halperin was shocked, but being a lawyer and hence used to getting garbled versions of facts, he asked, “Just exactly what did he say?”

Magnuson recounted the conversation with the rabbi. “I accepted his position that he could not himself perform the ceremony, although considering that some rabbis do it without getting unfrocked or struck off the rolls, or whatever you call it, I had reason to feel that he was being excessively dogmatic. I accepted his stricture that the ceremony could not be performed in a synagogue. But his insistence that I could not even have it done in my own house by a rabbi of my own choice because it is in his territory and within his jurisdiction, that was a bit much. This I cannot tolerate. I mean, the next thing I know he might want to inspect my kitchen to see if we use two sets of dishes.”

Although Halperin's natural inclination was to agree with Magnuson, as a fair-minded man he felt that he ought to explain the rabbi's position. “I think the rabbi was trying to tell you that holding the ceremony in your house was unseemly, since you were the president of the congregation. From his point of view, it's as though—”

“I know what he was trying to tell me,” said Magnuson severely. “Do you agree with him?”

Halperin realized that Magnuson was demanding that he declare himself. It occurred to him that the better part of valor was to straddle. He shrugged slightly and smiled. “As far as I'm concerned, it's just a ceremony and I'm not much of a one for ceremonies. It's the marriage that's important rather than who says what and where in order to effect it. I'm a lot more concerned with the question of who's boss, the congregation through its elected representatives or the rabbi. I'm interested in the question of whether a rabbi can ever order, or even suggest, that the president of the congregation resign. Who is supreme, the rabbi or the congregation? In other words, who can fire whom?”

Magnuson was no fool. He saw the subtle shift in direction that Halperin was suggesting. “Do you think the rest of the board are apt to look at it that way?”

Halperin thought for a moment. “I think so, if it's pointed out to them. Of course, if you go ahead as planned, and get some rabbi from outside, I presume Small would register his opposition by resigning. Then he'd explain to the congregation just why he was resigning. And that could create a stink.”

“True. But we don't have to play it that way.”

“No?”

“I've been in this type of situation before. When you take over a company, and you can't make some of the key people see things your way, you know what you do? You fire them.”

“But you can't fire the rabbi just because he won't officiate at your daughter's wedding.”

“Of course not. But we can fire him for challenging the authority of the board, by calling for my resignation. That is, if they go along.”

“But he has a contract.”

“No problem. We would simply continue to pay his salary until it runs out. It hasn't very long to run. We could even pay it to him in a lump sum. If we call on him to resign, he'll naturally feel it necessary to explain to the congregation, at least to that part of it that comes to the Friday evening service. What's he draw at a service? Seventy-five? A hundred? But the next week there would probably be two or three hundred attending, and he'd explain again. Then the fat would be in the fire. But if we dismiss him because—because we have lost confidence in him, my guess is that he won't say a word, except good-bye, maybe. He's pretty damn proud. I doubt if he would suggest that it was because of his refusal to officiate at my daughter's wedding, especially where there would be no mention of it in the notice of dismissal. Of course, it would be better if we had another rabbi ready to take over at the very next service. I don't know. Would that be difficult to manage? What do you think?”

Halperin sat back and crossed his legs. He tilted his head back, canted to one side, and focused on a corner of the ceiling as he appeared to give the matter considerable thought. Finally, elaborately casual, he said, “I might be able to get my brother to take the job.”

“Yes, you mentioned having a brother who is a rabbi. What's he doing now? Doesn't he have a position?”

“Oh, he's got a pulpit all right, but he doesn't much care for it, and he refused to sign a contract. Ever hear of Jezreel, Kansas? Well, that's where he is and it's that sort of place.”

“What's the matter with him?”

“Nothing. I think he's a damn good rabbi. I've got a videotape that he prepared as a sort of résumé for applying for a job. You could play it and judge for yourself, and of course if he came, it would be on a trial basis and it would be up to him to make good.”

“Well, I'd like to see the tape. But if he's that good, how did he get stuck out there?”

“He's been unlucky. That's the only way I can explain it. When he got through at the seminary, he became a chaplain in the Navy, largely because the girl he was going with and then married was the daughter of a Navy man, a dentist. Then when his trick was up, he got a Hillel job because at the time there were no decent pulpits available. Then he took this job in Kansas because he thought he'd better get cracking on his career, and he thought any pulpit was better than none. For the experience, you know. He's been stuck there ever since.”

“I see. Well, I'm inclined to believe that experience with a military outfit, especially in combination with the Hillel experience of working with young people, might be just what we need here. But what about my little problem?”

“Naturally, I'd explain to him that was part of the deal. He's three years younger than I am, and he's always looked up to me. I think I can bring him around. I'll call him, if you say the word.”

“Okay. Go ahead. But first, sound out the rest of the board.”

36

Morris Halperin was friendly and cordial but a little puzzled. “You've got the culprit, and it was quick work, too, so I don't understand …”

“It's these young assistant D.A.s,” said Lanigan wearily. “He wants a statement from you since you found the body. You know, how you happened to be in Glen Lane, what you saw, what you did. Damn silly, but he wants it.”

“Well, I suppose if he's new at the game, he naturally wants everything just so. Okay, shoot.”

Lanigan reached for a legal pad and then unscrewed the top of an old-fashioned fountain pen. “Suppose we take it from the top. Let's see, that was the night of the selectmen's meeting. You were there, weren't you?”

“Yeah. But haven't you got a stenographer for this?”

“Not right now. I'll just take it down myself and then I'll have it typed and you can look it over and sign it. Now, did you stay to the end of the meeting?”

“Yeah, but I left right after.”

“That would be around ten o'clock?”

“Just about, I'd say. Maybe a little after.”

“You didn't go to the Ship's Galley with the boys?”

“No, I had this cold and I thought I ought to go to bed. I could hardly keep my head up.”

“So …”

“But there are some pills I take that have always worked for me and I was out of them. I took the last two before I left for the meeting. I was planning to buy some more but I forgot all about it. Of course, when I left the meeting, the drugstores were closed. So I decided to run over to Lynn where there's one that keeps open till midnight.”

“Just a minute, Morris. ‘Keeps open till midnight.' Take it a little slower, will you?”

“So I went there and bought the pills and took a couple right in the store,” said Halperin, slowing down so that Lanigan could keep up with him. “Then I started back home, proceeding along High Street, of course.”

“How were you feeling?”

“Oh, fine, just fine. My nose was stuffed up, but my head was perfectly clear. When I came to Glen Lane, I turned in, figuring I could save a few minutes. It's dark as a pocket there, so I turned on my high beams. Just as I came to the crest of that hill in the middle, I hit a pothole. You understand, with my high beams on, I couldn't see the road surface.”

“Sure.”

“But the front end jounced up and down. Maybe I need new shocks. Anyway, that's how I happened to catch a glimpse of the body. From the jouncing, see.”

“‘From the jouncing.' Uh-huh. So then what did you do?”

“Well, I jammed on my brakes and came to a stop maybe twenty or thirty feet beyond. I got out of the car—”

“Did you shut off the motor?”

“I—I must have. No, I didn't. I just put her in park.”

“Okay.”

“Then I walked back and squatted down beside the body. And I noticed all the glass. Boy, was I relieved. See, for a minute there, I thought maybe I had hit him. But both my lights were still shining, so I knew I hadn't.”

“How could you see anything when it was so dark and with your headlights pointing the other way?”

“Just by my taillight. It wasn't much, but it was enough.”

“So then what did you do?”

“I didn't do anything. Oh, I sort of called to him, asked if he could hear me, but I was careful not to touch him. I didn't want to move him or anything like that because if there were bones broken, I could make it worse. And I realized it was a hit-and-run, so I didn't want to mess up any clues. Legal training. Well, if it had been anyplace else, I would have stayed there and tried to flag down a car, but in Glen Lane … and late at night. So I got back into my car and headed for the nearest phone. I was going to ring someone's bell, but you know, not a single house was lit except Rabbi Small's. I guess he always stays up late.”

“So why didn't you call from there?”

“I was going to, but then it occurred to me that you people might ask me to wait there, or that I might get involved with the rabbi, and I was terribly anxious to get to bed. Besides, I was only a few minutes away from home. In any case, I spotted the cruising car just as I turned into Main. I signaled them and told them.”

Lanigan continued to write for a minute or two. Then he looked up and smiled at his visitor. “I guess that's about it. I'll get it typed up and you can sign it if it's all right.”

Later Lanigan spoke to Jennings. “Did I give you enough time? Get anything?”

“Uh-huh. Plenty. I got a bunch of prints from the hood and fenders. Chances are they're his or his wife's or some gas station attendant's. I'll send them in on the chance that one of them might match the dead man's. I also got some fibers on the chance they might match up with those from the man's coat. There were no dents. Did he suspect anything?”

Lanigan shook his head. “No reason to.”

37

Meyer Andelman was aghast when Morris Halperin told him that Howard Magnuson might resign. As head of the UJA drive, he had not only counted on a large donation from Magnuson, but felt that it would serve to jack up the size of the contributions that others would make.

“You mean just from the presidency, Morris, or from the temple?” he asked anxiously.

“As far as I know, it would be just from the presidency,” said Morris Halperin. “I suppose he'd continue to be a member of the board.”

“Don't you believe it. If he resigns from the presidency because of some row with the rabbi, he'll resign from the board, too. And even if he doesn't, you'll never see him at a board meeting again.”

“I think maybe you're right,” Halperin agreed, “but the way it looks now, it's him or the rabbi.”

“That's the choice? Then I'll take Magnuson any day. Rabbis are a dime a dozen, but where would we get another millionaire-type businessman like Howard Magnuson? He's a real asset to everyone on the board. I got nothing against our rabbi, even though he's a cold fish and sometimes acts like God Almighty, but if you ask me to choose between the two, it's no contest.”

“But, Meyer, it isn't a case of voting one against the other.”

“No?”

“Well, it is and it isn't. See, if Howard goes ahead and gets some outside rabbi to marry off his daughter, even if it's in his own house, the rabbi will resign. But”—and he held up an admonishing forefinger—“he'd explain his reason to the whole congregation. And Howard doesn't want that because he thinks it might cause a split.”

“Now, that's what I call one sweet guy. He's willing to resign rather than cause trouble. So I'll tell you what we do. Why don't we fire the rabbi for—for something, inattention to his duties, or because we want a change? After all, he wouldn't take a life contract when it was offered him some years ago. He wanted to be free to leave, so why aren't we free to pick someone else? Then he wouldn't appeal to the general membership, would he? What could he say to them? The board is firing me because they're tired of me, but I don't think they are?”

Halperin inclined his head in agreement. “It's a thought. But keep it under your hat, will you, until I talk to some of the other fellows.”

“Gotcha. Hey, isn't your brother a rabbi?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Maybe he'd be interested in the job.”

Oscar Stein had a great deal of sympathy for Magnuson. “When my kid sister told me she was planning to marry a goy, naturally I was upset, but more because I knew how my folks would react. They were pretty cut up, let me tell you, especially my mother. They didn't go to the wedding. Wedding? Some wedding! I went with them to the courthouse in Salem, and then we went out to lunch. If we could have had a rabbi, my folks would have made a wedding in the house, and they would have felt better about it. Because they like the fellow. He's a very decent chap. I talked to our rabbi about it, but he didn't budge. I suppose from his point of view, he couldn't. I didn't argue with him, but I couldn't help feeling that something ought to be worked out because there's an awful lot of this business going on. After all, some rabbis do it. So if some do it, there must be some leeway in the law. I mean, if it's flat out against the law, then how do these other guys get away with it? You never hear of any of them being unrabbied or anything like that. Maybe it's just that our rabbi is a stickler. Know what I mean?”