The Bar Mitzvah Murder (3 page)

“What did the doctor do? What did he say?”

“Maybe he was giving him CPR; I'm not sure. Then he shouted, ‘Get an ambulance.' ”

“Who called the ambulance?”

Mel looked confused. “I don't know, but I'm not sure anyone at the party did. It came so soon, someone in the hotel must have called.”

“So someone inside saw what happened.”

“I'm sure a lot of people saw it. There were waiters bringing drinks and coffee and whatever.”

“OK, so he got picked up by an ambulance. Did his wife go with him?”

“They wouldn't let her. I remember that. She started to climb in the back, to be with him, and the attendants pushed her out. They said she could see him at the hospital.”

“Did they say the name of the hospital?”

“Not that I heard. Not that Marnie heard. The ambulance took off and—I'm not sure what happened next. Marnie was in a terrible state. Someone went and got her a glass of ice water. Then Lenny, the doctor, said, ‘Come on; let's get to the hospital and see what's going on.' I think that's when we all realized we didn't know what hospital Gabe went to.”

“Jack looked up hospitals on my map,” I said. “There are about half a dozen. Officer Davidson checked them all, or at least some of them, last night.”

“Everyone goes to Hadassah Hospital,” Mel said. “It's big and it has a fabulous reputation. I think we all just assumed that's where he was going.”

“Did you call?”

“We had the concierge make the calls. When we found out Gabe wasn't at Hadassah—there are two branches and they had no record of being called out to our hotel—he tried some others. Then a few of us got in our cars and drove to Hadassah Hospital to talk to them in person.” She shrugged. “Hal and I were there. We heard the conversations. They never heard of Gabe.”

“Mel, I think the first thing we have to do is drive over to the place where the party was and find out what hospital they called. Then at least we know where to ask questions.”

“Good idea. I've had enough coffee to hold me all day. Shall we?”

4

It was a truly magnificent place, with lots of glass to let the sun in, a huge lobby, potted palms, and fantastic floral displays. Mel found the concierge and we asked him about the call to the hospital. He had not been at work at that time, he said, so he turned us over to the maître d'. The maître d' didn't know what we were talking about and suggested we ask for the hotel manager.

We cooled our heels for a few minutes while someone searched for the manager. He arrived with a frown, a stocky man in a suit bought before he put on his last twenty pounds.

“Yes, ladies. How can I help you?”

We explained. He frowned. He asked us to sit while he made some calls. We didn't say much while we waited. Mel was too fidgety to sit, so she got up and wandered to some shop windows while I kept my eye on the door the manager had walked through, half expecting him to attempt a quick escape. Finally he came out, a sheet of paper in his hand.

“I have checked with the restaurants, with the people behind the desk, the concierge, the bellman, and even the housekeeping department. No one I spoke to called an ambulance yesterday or was asked to call an ambulance. I think you have made a mistake. Perhaps it was another hotel.”

“It wasn't another hotel,” Mel said with an uncharacteristic bite in her voice. “It was the party for Gabriel Gross. I'm sure you're aware of it.”

“Ah, Mr. Gross. Yes, of course. You should have mentioned that.”

“I did.” She was quietly fuming.

“And Mr. Gross became ill?”

“He became ill,” Mel said, her voice like a steel rod meant to pierce this man's innards. “An ambulance came and took him away. We do not know where he was taken. We have been trying to find him since yesterday afternoon.”

“I see. I'm terribly sorry. I promise I will look into it for you. I have Mr. Gross's Jerusalem phone number here. I will call his wife if I learn anything. I am truly sorry. Good morning, ladies.”

I nearly slapped my hand over Mel's mouth to prevent her from saying what she was feeling. The little man waddled away.

“Let's talk to Gabe's wife,” I said. “It's late enough that she's probably awake now.”

“You drive. I'll navigate.”

We had taken my car—that is, Jack's car—from the American Colony Hotel to this one, Mel having arrived by taxi. My nerves were a bit ragged from the drive and I was beginning to understand what Joshua Davidson meant when he said Israeli drivers weren't as polite as New Yorkers. But Mel was a very good navigator, checking out our route before we began so she had a good grasp on how to get there.

I stopped and called my in-laws, who were nearly on their way out to take a bus tour of the city. Eddie got on the phone and spoke with great excitement about where they were going and how good breakfast was. I guess grandparents are just the best people in the world.

We got to Mel's hotel about fifteen minutes later with no dents or scrapes, so I felt lucky. Inside, Mel used the house phone to call Marnie Gross's room.

“She said to come up. She's having her breakfast and she's dressed.”

“How does she sound?”

“Terrible. I think she's crying in her coffee. She hasn't heard anything from anyone.”

We took the elevator up. This was as equally grand a hotel as the one we had just visited. As we ascended, Mel explained that the party yesterday had been at the other hotel because the facilities here hadn't been available yesterday.

We got out and walked down a short hall to Marnie Gross's door. She let us in and we sat in the extravagant sitting room of a beautiful suite. It was clear that Gabe had spared nothing.

A half-eaten breakfast was on a cart pushed against the wall. Marnie, a lovely-looking woman in spite of her red eyes and worn appearance, asked if we had learned anything.

“We learned there's no record of anyone at the other hotel having called an ambulance,” I said.

“How is that possible? I saw it come; I saw the men put Gabe into it. And everyone else there saw it, too.”

“It's possible the person who called isn't at the hotel today. Maybe one of the guests used a cell phone.”

“I've talked to them all. The ambulance came so quickly after Lenny said we should call one that no one had time to make a call. Someone inside must have seen Gabe lying there and made the call. I just want to know why the police aren't working on this. My husband is missing. He's sick or hurt or worse. How do we get them to move?”

I explained about Jack and that he was trying at his end but that he wanted me to gather as much information as possible. “Maybe we can just talk,” I said, “you and Mel and I, try to put yesterday's events in order, try to figure out where people were when your husband got hurt.”

“What difference does it make where we were?” she said with exasperation. “No one in our group did anything to Gabe. And I don't even know what happened to him. Did he have a heart attack? Did he fall and injure himself? I am just at my wits' end.”

I could see that was true, and I felt for her. I didn't want to argue that one of their guests might have done Gabe some injury, so I ignored her comment. “Can you tell me how many people were at the party?” I asked, starting with a neutral question.

She let out her breath as though she had lost an appeal. “We were forty adults and I don't know how many children. Gabe would know.”

“Are they all relatives?”

“Most of them. A few are friends. He has friends that he grew up with in New York, men he's still very close to. Two of them came with their wives.”

“Do they work together?” I asked, thinking of the competitive nature of business.

“No. They went separate ways where business is concerned.”

“Do you like them?”

“I love them. They're good and kind and their wives are lovely people. The way you're asking questions makes me think you suspect some kind of foul play.”

“It's possible.”

“I don't think so. I think he fell or became ill. There wasn't a mark on him.”

“There was a little blood on his sleeve,” Mel said.

“Gabe has a lot of nosebleeds. It's nothing. He's talked to the doctor about it.”

“Did you get a good look at the ambulance attendants?”

She looked confused. “I was looking at my husband. I wasn't sure he was alive. I was terrified.”

“Mel said you wanted to ride with him, but they wouldn't let you.”

“That's right. I forgot about that.”

“Did you get a look at the face of the man who told you you couldn't get in the ambulance?”

She stared at me. “Yes, I did. Round. Dark eyes. Small black beard. Sort of chubby, his shirt coming out of his pants. And he was wearing a
kippa
.”

“What?”

“That's the little round hat Jewish men wear to temple and religious men wear all the time,” Mel said.

“I see.” I wrote down a phonetic rendering of the word, then turned to Marnie. “So you did get a good look at one of them.”

“Yes, I did. I'm glad you asked. I hadn't remembered.”

“Would you recognize him again?”

“I would. I'm sure of it.”

“Good. If we don't learn anything, we can always go to all the hospitals and ask to look at their ambulance attendants.”

“Yes,” Marnie said, a look of almost relief spreading over her face. “Yes, we could do that. I would know him if I saw him again.”

“OK. Now, if you don't mind, let's go over the guest list.”

I had been lucky. When she realized she actually had a piece of important information, the identity of an ambulance attendant, she became more willing to talk about the people at the party. We went through them with Mel's help, as Marnie didn't have a list of names handy. Between them they came up with thirty-six of the adults, including the two old friends, Gabe's sister and brother, their parents, and a lot of cousins, all with spouses. We spent quite some time at it, and just as we were finishing up, the phone rang. Marnie jumped up to answer it, nearly stumbling on a purse left on the floor.

A minute later she looked at me and said, “I think this may be your husband.”

It was. “How're you doin'?” he asked.

“Learning things but getting nowhere. What about you?”

“Joshua's very upset and embarrassed about this. He says it's been handled badly—tell me something I don't know—and he's gone to the two major hospitals to try to find out if Gabe is at one of them. He called in a few minutes ago and said Gabe is still missing.”

“This is terrible.”

“I know. Joshua's going to look into the morgue, too. He wants to know if it was really an ambulance that picked this man up.”

“What else could it have been?”

“I don't know, maybe a bakery truck that saw a problem and picked him up and dropped him off at a hospital.”

“Jack, you can't be serious.”

“I am. Maybe some panel truck drove by, saw there was a problem, and decided to help. If they dropped him off and left, the hospital wouldn't know who he was if he was unconscious or dead.”

“I'll ask.”

“Meantime, there's nothing in police files that Joshua can find.”

“Keep trying.”

“You bet. Talk to you later.”

I hung up and rejoined the women. “Jack suggested it might not have been an ambulance that picked your husband up.”

“How is that possible?”

“Maybe a panel truck was passing by and saw something wrong and stopped to help. Since you don't know what was written on the side of the truck, it could have been anything.” I had decided not to use Jack's example. “Or maybe someone from the hotel flagged them down.”

“But they seemed so professional,” Marnie said. “They knew what they were doing.”

“And they had a gurney,” Mel said. “That's not my imagination. I saw it. It was one of those things that collapse to sit on the ground and then lift so they're about so high.” She showed me with her hands.

Marnie agreed. “That's right. And they had the kinds of things you'd expect an ambulance to have. I started to get inside, so I'm sure.”

Well, it had been a try. “OK. We're better off if it was an ambulance. There can only be so many in the city and we can track them down. Marnie, did your husband say anything to you? To anyone?”

She shook her head and grabbed a tissue. “He wasn't conscious. He was just lying there with his eyes closed, not moving.” She started to cry. “I'm sorry. This is very painful.”

I got up and found my purse. “Mel, I think we've done all we can right here. I'd really like to talk to the cousin who's a doctor, but otherwise, I think we should leave Marnie to take it easy.”

“I disagree,” Mel said, getting to her feet. “I think the three of us should go to the hospitals right now and see if Marnie can identify an ambulance attendant.”

I looked at Marnie. She nodded. “Mel's right. Sitting in this room is just making me more depressed. I want to get out and do something. I want to make something happen.”

“Then let's go,” I said. “Mel, we need you to navigate.”

She pulled out her map, opened it up, and got to work.

5

Hadassah Hospital was in the northeast section of the city on Mount Scopus, just before the Hebrew University. These were places I had looked forward to visiting as a tourist and I hoped that would still be possible, but it was out of the question right now. We parked and went inside, getting a bit of a runaround until Mel insisted very firmly that we had to see the ambulance drivers and attendants. The woman we were making our case to relented, finally, made a call, and a minute later a girl in her twenties appeared and showed us the way to where the ambulances waited for calls.

The attendants were sitting around talking, snacking, reading, and one seemed to be asleep. Marnie went over and looked at him first, shaking her head. He was clean-shaven and his hair was on the fair side.

We then looked at all the men one by one. Marnie said no to each. As we inspected them, an ambulance pulled in and the two attendants rushed to remove an old woman who appeared to be in very bad shape. Marnie went over, keeping out of their way, but I could see her shaking her head absently as she saw their faces.

We asked if anyone had been working yesterday and had not come in today and were told these were all the same people. We started back to the car.

“These ambulances look different,” Mel said. “The one that took Gabe wasn't from this hospital.”

We consulted the map. There were a couple of Arab hospitals listed, but Mel was sure the writing on the side of the ambulance had been Hebrew. Even I could tell the difference in the script, having seen signs in both languages. We tried another Jewish hospital but had no luck. Mel and I took Marnie back to her hotel and decided to have some lunch.

“I'll show you a great place,” Mel said when we were in the car. “It's called Nachalat Shiva and there are lots of restaurants and some wonderful shops. You need to do something that's fun, Chris. This is your vacation.”

I laughed. “Are you sure?”

“I'm positive. We'll have a leisurely lunch and then we'll go to some great stores. I hope we can park.”

We were lucky. We parked in a lot that barely had room for us to move, but someone pulled out as we came in and that gave us a space. The unpronounceable place we were going to was a few steps away, and we picked a restaurant where we could sit outside. Although it was November, it was very mild, and I enjoyed sitting under the awning rather than indoors. People walked by and I watched them, telling myself again that I was five thousand miles away from home, that I was in the Holy Land. An occasional soldier walked by, armed with a gun that could be an Uzi, accompanied by a pretty young girl who clung to his arm. Love is the same everywhere.

“What are you smiling at?” Mel asked.

“That couple, the soldier and his girlfriend. They're very sweet.”

“It
is
sweet. Let's order before I pass out. Hal and I had the hummus salad with mushrooms and hard-boiled egg here the other day and I can tell you it's out of this world.”

“I had hummus last night for the first time in my life. That sounds like a good lunch.”

“Sure you don't want tuna salad?” Mel teased.

“I'm positive. I'm trying to be cosmopolitan or worldly or whatever the current description is.”

“Good.” She signaled the waiter and ordered for both of us.

It was a wonderful lunch, and I enjoyed every morsel. As Jack and I were eating dinner with his parents and our son tonight, I expected we'd have a big meal, so this was just perfect.

While we ate, Mel recalled two of the four missing names of people at yesterday's party and gave me a small amount of information about them. “You want to know about Marnie?” she asked.

“I hate to ask, but yes, I'd like to know about her.”

“I'm sure you've noticed she's on the young side.”

“I've noticed.”

“It's a second marriage. Gabe married in his twenties, had two kids, and the marriage broke up. It didn't happen quite as fast as I've said it. They were married about twenty years and their kids were in college. No one in the family knew there was trouble until one day Hal's mother called and said she'd heard from her sister-in-law that Gabe and Debby were separating. By the time we got the news, they weren't living together anymore.”

“I see. So Marnie's a second wife.”

“Yes, and a very good one. They go together very well. I really like her.”

“That leaves me with a lot of questions, Mel. First off, I don't remember hearing the names of Gabe's children when we went over the party list.”

“They didn't come.”

I almost groaned. I was orphaned before my fifteenth birthday and I would have done anything to have a parent to live with and love. When I hear about these family splits, something in me seems to drop into a black pit. “Do you know why?” I asked.

“It was a horrible divorce, Chris. These two people who had loved each other, stayed together through hard times and into very good times, just grew to hate each other. They couldn't be in the same room for more than five minutes. Debby accused him of all sorts of things that may or may not have been true and Gabe said she didn't care enough about him to put a decent meal on the table when he was hungry. He was right, too. There were nights he came home to cornflakes. And maybe she was right. I don't know.”

“So the children sided with her.”

“They were in a terrible situation. They really had to make a choice. They were old enough that there was no custody involved, they could live anywhere, but they weren't really able yet to live by themselves, so they stayed with Debby and saw Gabe from time to time.”

“So their sympathies were with the mother.”

“And still are,” Mel said, “from everything I've heard.”

“Were they invited here?”

“Definitely. Gabe told us.”

“But they didn't come.”

“The son responded. The daughter didn't bother.”

“It sounds ugly.”

“It is.” Mel looked at the check, which had been dropped off a few minutes earlier. “Down the middle?” she asked.

“Yes. That reminds me. I have to change some traveler's checks. And get these shekels fixed in my mind.”

“Divide by four. That's what most of the shopkeepers do.”

We each paid our share and stood. Across the narrow walking street the restaurant fronted on were several shops. I was interested in seeing the kinds of things available in this part of the world, so I thought shopping might be a nice idea. Also, I had accumulated quite a lot of information for Jack and wasn't sure where to go from here until I knew what, if anything, the police were doing. Without Gabe's whereabouts—or his body—it was hard to know whom to question and what to ask, although I did still want to talk to the doctor cousin.

“Stop thinking,” Mel ordered. “We have better things to do for the afternoon. I'm going to show you some things that will knock your socks off.”

“Sounds good to me.”