Thursday the Rabbi Walked Out (26 page)

“I suppose – yes, she’d have to, then maybe he’s taking some kind of course.”

“Then there would be no reason for not telling the police. No: it’s something that takes place every Friday night at the same time, that she knows about and seems to approve of, and yet is embarrassing to the point that –” He snapped his fingers. “You hit it right on the head. Miriam.”

“I did?”

“He is taking a course – a course of treatment – from a psychiatrist.”

“Oh, David. I think that’s it, Henry Maltzman strikes me as just the kind of man who would be ashamed to have it known that he was getting psychiatric treatment, he’d be afraid that people would think he was crazy. But that gives us something to go on. If you talked to him and hinted –”

“He wouldn’t talk to me.” said the rabbi flatly. “Even if I could get to him, he’d shut up as soon as he sensed what I was hinting at. But, you know, it might be worthwhile talking to Laura.”

“Why Laura?”

“Because I could tell her point-blank what I thought. If I’m right, then there’s a good chance that I could induce her to give me the name of the doctor, then – look here, I’m going over to see her right now.”

For a few minutes after her husband left. Miriam was buoyed up by his certainty, then doubts began to set in. Laura Maltzman might be just as obdurate as Henry, she might have the same view of psychiatric treatment. Or even if not, she might feel it was disloyal to reveal what her husband was so anxious to keep secret. Perhaps there was another way, and a plan began to form in her mind, she reached for the phone and called the local hospital.

“You have lists of local doctors, haven’t you?” she asked the switchboard operator, trying to keep her voice from trembling. “Can you –”

“Hold on. I’ll connect you.”

She took several deep breaths, and to the person who answered this time, she was able to say crisply., “I would like a list of the local psychiatrists whom you recommend.”

“Who is this calling, please?”

“Mrs. Small.”

“Mrs. David Small? The rabbi’s wife?”

“That’s right. Can you help me?”

“I’m Mrs. Clausen, Mrs. Small, the rabbi checks in with me when he comes on his regular visits, he’s all right, isn’t he?”

“Oh yes. This involves a case he’s working on, he asked me –”

“I understand, well, there aren’t too many. You’re thinking of those who practice in the area, I suppose. Because there are a number who live here, but their offices are in Boston. Let’s see –”

“Do you happen to know which of them will see patients in the evening?”

“Well, if it’s an emergency –”

“No. I mean who will schedule patients for regular treatment.”

“Well, that limits it even more, doesn’t it? Let’s see, Dr. Boles used to, but I know for a fact that he doesn’t anymore, he’s quite old, Abner Gordon doesn’t as a rule, but he just might if the rabbi spoke to him, especially if he were interested in the case. I mean if it involved something he was doing a paper on.”

She finally came up with a list of four names, two of which Miriam discarded because they were obviously Jewish, she reasoned that Maltzman might feel that if the doctor were Jewish, there was a greater chance of someone in the Jewish community finding out. Of the remaining two, one was a woman. For a couple of minutes Miriam agonized over the choice and then decided that Maltzman would be more inclined to tell his personal troubles to a woman than to a man.

“Dr. Sayre? I wonder if I could have an appointment –”

A firm contralto voice asked, “Whom an I talking to, please?”

“My name is – Myra, Myra Little.”

“Miss or Mrs.?”

“It’s Ms.”

“Very well, and what is it you want to see me about?”

“It’s – I don’t like to say over the phone – I wouldn’t want – I mean if someone were listening –”

“Who referred you to me, Ms. Little?”

“Well, it wasn’t a doctor. It was one of your patients, Henry Maltzman.”

“Oh yes.” It was merely polite agreement, which might mean nothing, but it gave Miriam the courage to continue.

“He said you sometimes took patients in the evening, which is the only time I could come.”

“I do take some patients in the evening.”

“Well, could I have an appointment for Friday evening, around half past seven?”

“Friday evening? Let me see. Why that’s Mr. Maltzman’s time.”

“Are you sure. Doctor. Because he said –”

“Quite sure, he –”

But Miriam had hung up, leaving the doctor looking puzzled at her telephone which had inexplicably gone dead.

When the rabbi returned shortly after, he showed his disappointment. “I should have called first,” he said. “There was no one home when I got there.”

“It doesn’t matter, David,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.” She was excited at her success and yet fearful of his disapproval.

The rabbi listened in silence as she told him what she had done and repeated her conversation with Dr. Sayre.

He shook his head in wonder and then smiled. “As I remarked earlier, who can know the depths of another person?”

“Are you angry? Was it wicked of me?”

“The Talmud forbids pricing a merchant’s wares if you have no intention of buying. It raises his hopes of making a sale and then causes him needless distress when you disappoint him. I suppose the same would apply to a doctor.” He threw his head back and laughed joyously. “But it was awfully clever of you, and now. I’d better see Lanigan.” He hesitated. “You don’t have any other bright ideas you might try while I’m gone, do you. Miriam?”

“Oh, David!”

“Now. Chief. I’ve given you my personal assurance that I was nowhere near the Jordon house that night, or during the day for that matter, and I’m willing to say that under oath. I know damn well you don’t suspect me of having anything to do with it, and I consider it a serious infringement on my rights.”

Lanigan listened with growing impatience. Finally, he exploded. “Goddammit, this isn’t a parking offense. This is murder and –”

The voice of the desk sergeant came over the intercom. “Rabbi Small is here. Chief, and he’d like to see you.”

“Tell him I’m busy now, maybe later.”

“Yes, Sir, but he says it’s terribly important and he has to see you right now.”

“Well, all right.” To Henry Maltzman, he said, “I’ve been treating you with kid gloves, but when I get back, Henry, you’ll talk, or I’ll have Lieutenant Jennings put you in a cell and you won’t get another chance to talk until tomorrow morning. Keep an eye on him, Eban.”

His greeting to the rabbi when he came out was, “This had better be good, David.”

“It is good, Chief,” said the rabbi earnestly and told him of Miriam’s exploit.

Lanigan chuckled. “While you were out of the house, eh? She’s a corker. When you get home, ask her if she’d like a part-time job with the force, all right, we’ll probably check with this Dr. Sayre, but for now it’s good enough.” And, as the rabbi turned to leave. “Oh, and give Miriam my love.”

Back in his office. Lanigan looked sourly at Maltzman and said. “Okay, you can go now, the lieutenant will check you out.”

“Did Rabbi Small come here about me? Is that why you’re letting me go?”

“Go on. Beat it before I change my mind.”

Returning from the board meeting, Herb was surprised to find Molly at home. “Your bridge didn’t last very long,” he remarked.

“Oh, I wasn’t planning to stay. I just went to help with the decorations. It was a shower and bridge for a new bride.”

“Mother?”

She pointed ceilingward. “Resting.” Then she said eagerly. “How did the meeting go? As planned?”

“No, the rabbi got his contract renewed. It was close, but the rabbi won.”

“But, but how? Henry was sure he had eight votes.”

He smiled sourly. “I guess he had to twist an arm or two to get the eight. But then he outsmarted himself with his idea of a secret ballot.” He was enjoying himself as he spelled it out for her. “You see, when you vote in secret, how is Big Brother Henry to know how you voted?”

“I don’t understand.” She seemed bewildered, unable to take it in. “I just don’t understand.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” he said breezily. “There are lots of things/don’t understand.” The coincidence of Maltzman’s absence from the board meeting while she was presumably out playing bridge had made him change his mind, he now had to confront her. “For instance. I don’t understand why you went out the night I was running the Brotherhood service and you were supposed to be staying with Mother.” He saw that he had startled her and that she had the grace to blush.

“Stanley told you? I thought it was his jalopy I saw as I turned into the driveway.”

“What driveway?”

“Ellsworth Jordon’s, of course. I went to deliver that report I’d been working on.”

“Gore asked you to?”

“No, I offered.”

“Why?”

“Because I could tell that Larry was worried about not getting it in on time, the bank could lose the account. Jordon could be very nasty about things like that.”

“And you delivered it?”

She shook her head. “The house was dark when I got there. I thought he must have gone to bed early, or gone out, so I came away.” She hesitated. “I’ve thought about it ever since, that maybe – Do you think he might have been – you know – dead at the time?”

“He might have been,” he admitted cautiously. “But since you didn’t see him and didn’t know it, there was nothing you could do. So why not just forget about it?”

“But when that policeman came to ask about Mr. Gore’s phone call. I should have told him that I went to the Jordon house that night.”

“Gosh, yes. You certainly should have. It might be an important clue. Why didn’t you?”

“Because you were right here with me,” she said with a touch of acerbity. “I didn’t want to say I had gone out when I’d promised I was going to stay in. I thought of seeing the detective later and telling him, but I kept putting it off and then never got around to it. But if they should find out I concealed information –”

“How would they find out?”

“Well, Stanley mentioned it to you, didn’t he? What if he should mention it to the police?”

Learning that it was Jordon rather than Maltzman she had gone to see had lifted a great weight from his mind, he was now thoroughly ashamed of his doubts of her loyalty, he felt a great tenderness for her, he could see that she was worried and a little frightened, and he longed to allay her fears. On the other hand, having led her to believe that it was Stanley who had told him, it would be foolish now to admit that he had learned it from his mother.

“Oh, I don’t think Stanley is apt to go to the police. Why should he?” He went on to explain at some length that people did not normally go running to the police, even when they had important information, simply because they didn’t want to get involved; that people like Stanley who got drunk occasionally and were apt to get arrested for it were even less likely to help the police; that they had an innate antipathy toward them; that she had nothing to fear.

But he saw that she was not convinced. Finally he said. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll go to the rabbi and ask him what we ought to do.”

“What’s he got to do with it? Why go to him?”

“Because he is very friendly with Chief Lanigan, they see each other socially: I understand. I could explain to him just exactly how it happened, after all, he knows us and he knows my mother, maybe he’d be willing to talk to Lanigan, and we wouldn’t have to. Or at least he’d smooth the way for us.”

“No, we can’t go to the rabbi for help.”

“Why not?”

“Because we wouldn’t feel right about it, here, I – we have been working to get him out, we can’t just turn around and ask him to help us.”

He grinned. “Don’t let that worry you. Because I voted for him, and I guess it was my vote that settled it.”

“You voted for him?”

Too late he realized he had talked himself into a trap and that his best course was to make a clean breast of it.

“I was jealous,” he said candidly. “That night when you went out, Henry Maltzman came to the service at the temple late, after nine, and then last Sunday when I went out for the paper, he was here and you seemed to be – you know – awfully friendly, and then today you went out to this bridge thing, and when I got to the meeting. I found that Henry had called to say he wasn’t going to make the scene. So I put two and two together and –”

“You were jealous of Henry Maltzman? You thought I might be playing around with Henry Maltzman? I would have thought you’d know me better than to think I’d be attracted to a professional macho type like Henry Maltzman.”

“Forgive me,” he begged. “I love you so much. Molly, that sometimes I just can’t think straight.”

She relented, he was such a boy, she came over and, putting her arms around him, murmured. “Silly Herbie.”

He brightened. “But it all worked out for the best, didn’t it? Because now I’ve got the right to ask the rabbi for a favor.”

“You see, Rabbi, she’s so loyal, when she sensed that Gore was upset that he wouldn’t be able to get that report in the old man’s hands on time, she offered to bring it over. I guess she thought Gore might lose the account. Jordan was that type of man.” He laughed. “The funny part of the whole thing is that the report didn’t even balance.”

“Then what was the point of bringing it since it was incomplete?”

“That was my view, Rabbi. But Gore felt that what was important was to get it in on time.”

“And she couldn’t tell the detective that she had gone there because you were present during the interrogation?”

“That’s right, she was planning to see him afterward and tell him, but you know how it is, she kept putting it off.”

“Does she know that it was your mother who told you that she left the house?”

“Uh-uh, she thought it was Stanley, because I’d just coma from the temple, from the board meeting, you know –”

“Why Stanley?”

“Well, she thought she’d seen his car just as she was turning into Jordon’s driveway, and she assumed he saw her, and I let her think so. I mean. I didn’t contradict her.”