Friday The Rabbi Slept Late

14

The religious revival did not extend to the saturday morning service; no more than the usual twenty or so turned up. When the rabbi got home, he found Chief Lanigan waiting for him.

"I don't like to intrude on your Sabbath," the chief apologized, "but neither do we like to interrupt our investigations. We police have no holidays."

"It's perfectly all right. In our religion, emergencies always supersede ritual."

"We're about through with your car. I'll have one of the boys drive it up here sometime tomorrow. Or if you're downtown, you can pick it up yourself."

"Fine."

"I'd like to check over with you what we found." From his briefcase he drew several pliofilm bags, each marked in black ink. "Let's see, this first one is stuff found under the front seat." He dumped the contents onto the desk. It consisted of some loose change, a receipt for repairs to the car dated several months back, a wrapper from a five-cent candy bar, a small calendar giving Hebrew and English equivalent dates, and a woman's plastic barrette.

The rabbi gave them a cursory glance. "Those are ours. At least, I recognize the barrette as my wife's. But you can ask her to be sure."

"We already have," said Lanigan.

"I can't vouch for the candy wrapper or the money, but I have eaten that candy. It's kosher. That calendar is the kind that various institutions and business houses distribute on the Jewish New Year. I must get dozens of them each year." He opened his desk drawer. "Here's another."

"All right.'" Lanigan replaced the contents of the bag and emptied another on the desk. "This is the contents of the trash bag under the dashboard." There were several crumpled tissues with lipstick, a stick from a chocolate-covered Eskimo Pie, and an empty, crumpled cigarette package.

"Those look all right," said the rabbi.

"Does that look like your wife's lipstick?"

The rabbi smiled. "Why don't you check with her?"

"We have," said Lanigan, "and it is." He then offered the contents of the next bag, which was from the glove compartment. There was a crushed box of tissues, a lipstick, several road maps, a prayer book, a pencil, a plastic ball-point pen, half a dozen three-by-five cards, a two-cell flashlight, and a rumpled pack of cigarettes.

"That seems right," said the rabbi. "I think I can even be sure of the lipstick, because I remember when my wife got it I made some remark about its being worth a king's ransom if all that jewelry were real. I think my wife paid a dollar or a dollar and a half, and yet see with what brilliant gems it is encrusted."

"They sell thousands of them, so you would have no way of knowing if this particular one is your wife's/'

"No, but surely it would be quite a coincidence if it were not."

"Coincidences happen, rabbi. The girl used the same lipstick. And it isn't such a terribly remarkable coincidence at that, since I gather it's a very popular make and a very popular shade for blondes."

"She was blonde then?"

"Yes, she was blonde. The flashlight, rabbi, shows no fingerprints."

The rabbi thought a moment. "The last time I recall using it was to check the dipstick, after which I wiped it, of course."

"All that's left now is the contents of the ashtrays. The one in the rear had one cigarette, lipstick-stained. There were ten butts in the front ashtray, all the same brand and all lipstick-stained. Your wife's, I take it. You don't smoke."

"If I did, I don't think my cigarette would be lipstick-stained."

"Then that's about it. We're keeping these things for a while."

"Take all the time you need. How is the investigation going?"

"Well, we know quite a bit more than we did when I saw you yesterday. The medical examiner found no signs that she had been sexually attacked, but he did come up with one curious finding: the girl was pregnant."

"Could she have been married?"

"We don't even know that for sure. We found no marriage certificate among her effects at home, but in her purse, the one we found in your car, there was a wedding ring. Mrs. Serafino assumed that she was single, but if the girl had been secretly married, she never would have confided in her employer because it might have meant her job."

"Then that could account for her having the ring in her handbag instead of on her finger," suggested the rabbi. "She would wear it while she was with her husband and then take it off before coming home."

"That's a possibility."

"And have you arrived at any theory as to how the girl's handbag got in my car?"

"It could have been put there by the murderer deliberately to cast suspicion on you. Do you know anyone who might want to do that to you, rabbi?"

The rabbi shook his head. "There are a number of people in my congregation who don't care for me, but none who dislike me so much they would want to see me mixed up in this sort of thing. And I know almost no one here outside of the members of my congregation."

"No, it doesn't seem too likely, does it? But if someone didn't put it there, it can only mean the girl was in your car at some time. Then for some reason-perhaps the murderer had noticed the light in your study-she was transferred to where we found her."

"I suppose so."

Lanigan grinned. "There is another theory, rabbi, which we're duty-bound to consider because it fits the facts as we know them."

"I think I know. It is that when Stanley came to tell me my books had arrived I used that as an excuse to get out of the house in order to meet this girl. We had been having an affair and our meeting place was my study. I waited for her until I got tired or decided she was not going to appear, but she turned up just as the study door locked behind me. So we sat in my car and it was there she told me she was pregnant and that she expected me to divorce my wife and marry her to give her baby a name. So I strangled her and carried her body over to the grass plot beyond the wall. Then I coolly strolled home."

"It does sound silly, rabbi, but it's also possible as far as time and place are concerned. If I were asked to make book on it, I'd put it at a million to one. Nevertheless, if you told me you were planning a long trip someplace I'd have to tell you I'd rather you didn't."

"I understand," said the rabbi.

Lanigan opened the door to leave, then stopped. "Oh, there's another thing, rabbi. Patrolman Norman has no recollection of meeting you or anyone else that night." He grinned at the look of astonishment on the rabbi's face.