Wednesday the Rabbi got wet

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Chief Lanigan's problem of how to meet with Ross McLane was settled by a rookie patrolman, the newest recruit to the force. It was the young officer's first day in uniform, and he was burning with zeal for law and order, when he spotted McLane's car parked outside the drugstore and issued a parking ticket. McLane came rampaging into the police station later that afternoon and shook the ticket under Chief Lanigan's nose. "Now look here. Chief. I always put my car in the parking lot, but some salesman took my usual place, and when he pulled out I was busy in the store and I didn't have a chance to move it."

Lanigan took the ticket, noted the officer's name on the bottom and smiled. "Come on in, and we'll talk about it." He turned and led the way to his office. When they were seated, the chief explained, "It's a new man, and naturally he's conscientious, actually, we haven't issued a ticket in that area for months. Normally, we don't except during the summer months when traffic is heavy there and cars go scooting by at high speed."

"Well, how about this ticket?" McLane demanded.

"Oh, I guess we can arrange so you won't have to pay the two bucks. Tell me, what do you hear of Marcus? How's he getting along?"

"All right. I was up to see him the other day and he was out of bed and sitting in an armchair. Looked pretty good, too."

"That's fine. How are you managing at the store?"

"Not bad now that Arnold is here," McLane said. "I'm working the same hours I did when Marcus was there. But that first week, when I was all alone, it was murder. I'd get to the store at nine and work till ten at night. Of course, Mrs. aptaker would open, and lots of times it wasn't too busy and I'd go out and take a breather for fifteen, twenty minutes, but—"

"Marcus was lucky he had you there. Lots of men wouldn't have stood it," said Lanigan.

"Well, I tell you, Mark is decent. When I lost my store, he offered me a job right away, there was a lot of talk around that I'd been hitting the bottle, but he had confidence in me, and I appreciated it."

"And were you?"

"Was I what?" asked McLane.

"Were you hitting the bottle?"

"Hell, no. Look. I'd take a drink every now and then same as anybody else. When I lost my— when my wife passed away, I'd stop at the tavern around the corner because— well, because I was going home to an empty house, maybe that's how the story got started, but all I had was one or at the most, two, and I wasn't hiding it. I didn't take a bottle to bed with me. Just a drink at the local bar."

Lanigan shrugged. "What difference does it make how much you actually drink? If your customers think you're a lush and stop coming in, then you were drinking too much even if you only took a nip once in a blue moon. It lost you your store, didn't it?"

"No such thing. I lost my store because I was pushed to the wall."

"Aw cummon."

"It's the truth. Chief. You know that guy Kestler, the old geezer that died recently, he had a chattel mortgage on my store and he called it. If he'd given me some time. I could’ve worked it off. But no, he wanted that store because he had a chance to sell it at a good price."

"So Kestler called your mortgage?" Lanigan smiled. "I guess you didn't feel too bad when he passed on then."

"You want to know something funny? He got a prescription filled with us the very night he died. Dr. Cohen, Dan Cohen, he called it in and I took it on the phone. When I heard it was for Kestler, I thought I'd see him in hell before I'd fill out a prescription for him. But do you want to know something? When I heard he was dead. I felt sorry for the old bugger."

"But you did fill it out, didn't you?" asked Lanigan easily.

"I did like hell. I gave it to young Aptaker and told him to do it, as a matter of fact, I was working on one that a guy was waiting for, and he'd volunteered to deliver the Kestler prescription, so—"

"Young Aptaker? Marcus?"

"Hell no, he's older than I am. I mean Arnold."

"But I thought Arnold came to work just last week."

"That's right, but he was up here visiting that day, we were busy as hell on account of the storm, and he came in to lend a hand with the prescriptions."

"You mean he worked just that night?" the chief asked.

"Uh-huh, he came in like he owned the place, he goes right to the prescription room in the back and says, 'I'm Arnold Aptaker. I'll give you a hand.' I looked at Marcus, who was out front, but he just smiled kind of proud and didn't say a word. So I started to show him around, you know, how the place was organized. But these young guys, you can't tell them anything, he says. 'I know, I know,' so I let him fumble around and by God first thing I know he knocks over a bottle of cough syrup, and then starts to clean it up with paper towels, that stuff is sticky, well, anyone else I would’veblown mv stack, but this was Mark's son, he was so pleased and proud to have him there, I didn't say a word but just got the mop and cleaned up, after that Arnold settled down and was a real help with the pile of prescriptions we had, and we finished a lot earlier than I thought we would. I was hoping he'd stay on, because it's a little heavy for two pharmacists, but the next day Mark said he'd gone to Philadelphia.""But now he's back for good?"

"I guess he plans to stay until his daddy gets back on his feet. I don't know if he'll stay after that. You know how these young fellows are." He glanced at his watch. "Hey, I got to get back, we start to get busy now, about that ticket—"

"Don't worry," said Lanigan affably. "I'll take care of it."