Vienna Secrets

31

Nahum Nagel placed the small weights on one side of his scale and a large weight on the other. The equipoise was so perfect that even his breath caused the left side to dip lower than the right. His friend Yudl Berger was sitting on the other side of the shop counter on a three-legged stool.

“My cousin knows about these things,” said Yudl, winding around his fingers the knotted tassles that hung from his waist. “And in his opinion Faust would have caused us a lot of grief, had he lived. He wanted to introduce special taxes and special police.”

Upstairs, Nahum’s father began coughing. It sounded like someone sawing wood, a horrible double rasp. Yudl glanced upward. “Has he seen a doctor?”

“Zingler came a few weeks ago. He said we should consider moving so as to get away from the damp.” Nahum made a hopeless gesture with his hands. “How could we possibly manage that?”

Yudl nodded sympathetically but returned to his original theme. “You know Pinhas the draper? He was delivering some curtains up to the big hotel in Hietzing, where the body was found. He actually saw it, by the plague column.” Yudl raised his eyebrows and in a melodramatic stage whisper added, “Mud everywhere.”

Nahum looked up from his weights. “You don’t really believe…”

“Doubrovsky knows the shoeblack who sits outside the theatre in Josefstadt. When the police were getting ready to leave, several of them walked up to have their shoes cleaned. The shoeblack said they were filthy. Covered in thick mud. Like clay. Josefstadt and Hietzing.” Nahum shook his head. He was evidently unconvinced.

“Our rebbe Barash says that things are going to change,” Yudl continued. “For the better.”

“Ach! He said the same thing to my father, and look at us!”

The look in Nahum’s eyes was desperate, his voice angry.

“He was right about the priest, wasn’t he?” Yudl responded, defending their spiritual master. “He said the priest would never make trouble here again-and he won’t, that’s for sure! And did you hear what he said to old man Robak? He promised him justice, vengeance. Two weeks before!”

The expression of sulky resentment on Nahum’s face was replaced by curiosity.

“Who told you that?”

“My wife. Old Robak’s eldest daughter is a friend of my wife’s aunt.”

Nahum tapped the pyramid of small weights on the scale. He wanted to believe, but his faith in the zaddik had been weakened. It was only a matter of time before the two men came again, making impossible demands. He and his father were close to ruin.

“Mud,” he said pensively. “In both places?”

“Yes,” said Yudl. “It can mean only one thing.”