Wednesday the Rabbi got wet

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

I don't like it," said Lieutenant Jennings flatly.

"I don't care a hellova lot for it myself," said his chief. "And in addition I stand to lose a sizable hunk of change."

"You can charge it to the town." "Sure," said Lanigan sarcastically.

"It's a departmental expense. It was incurred while doing police work." Jennings insisted, but without much conviction.

"If it works. If it doesn't, I pay for it myself."

"It's your funeral. Hugh. If it was me, I'd talk to the selectmen first, then you could be sure that the town would pick up the tab."

"They'd never agree to it, Eban. You ought to know that."

"Guess you're right," said Jennings gloomily. "Okay, what do you want me to do? Would you like me to make the run? My car is older than yours, another dent wouldn't make any difference."

"No, I'll do it myself," said the chief. "But I'd like you to go down to the garage and alert McNulty, and then hang around until we get there, the more witnesses, the better."

"Will do. When are you starting out?"

Lanigan glanced at the wall clock and said. "Right now. It's quarter past twelve."

As Chief Lanigan drove along Minerva Road, he noted with satisfaction that there was almost no traffic. Fortunately, when he spotted Safferstein's car at the curb there was no other car on the road, he slowed down and very deliberately swerved into the parked car, denting the front door with his fender.

At the sound of the crash, Safferstein came running out of the house. "Hey, what the hell, you drunk or something? Can't you see— Oh, it's you," as he recognized Lanigan. "What happened?"

"Swerved to avoid a dog," said Lanigan sheepishly. "I guess I swerved a little too much. Gee. I'm sorry, Mr. Safferstein."

"You sure didn't do that door any good." said Safferstein.

"I didn't improve it." Lanigan admitted, "and there could be some damage to the frame, too. I feel terrible. Tell you what, why don't you follow me to the town garage. I'll get McNulty to take a look at it, he does all the body work on the town vehicles, he can give you an estimate on the damage for the insurance company."

Lanigan got back in his car and drove slowly, occasionally glancing in his rear-view mirror to make sure Safferstein was behind him, as they neared the garage, he speeded up a little so that he was out of his car and waiting as Safferstein pulled in.

The mechanic circled the damaged car and said, "It looks as though it's just the door, but we better check it out."

As Safferstein watched, interested, McNulty pulled out the front seat.

"Hey, there's my silver pencil," cried Safferstein, "and my wife's earring, and a dime, and—"

From the other side. Lanigan pointed. "What's that? It looks like a pill." He reached over and picked it up, he wiped it clean of the dust and grime and held it up. "So it is," he said. "A little oval orange pill, just like those delivered to old Kestler, there was one missing from the bottle, and I guess this is it."

"Oh my God!" And Safferstein buried his face in his hands.

The gabbe studied Reb Mendel appraisingly and said. "You look better this morning, Rebbe. Your cold—"

"It's all gone." said the rebbe, smiling broadly. "Look." With lips compressed, he breathed deeply. "Nasal passages clear. No coughing. No sneezing. I feel a hundred percent better."

"Yesterday, you looked—"

"Ah, yesterday, I was terrible. I ached all over. I'm sure I had a fever, and to add to my misery, you know how it is Sundays, there are always relatives. Yesterday it was my Uncle Elimelech and his oldest boy, he's a physicist at Cornell and he insisted on telling me about some research he was doing. I doubt if I could have understood it even if my head were clear. Finally, I excused myself and went up to my room. It was early, around six o'clock, but I couldn't keep my head up. I got undressed, took a couple of aspirins, and then some hot tea with lemon and honey and whiskey, then I got into bed and fell asleep immediately."

"And slept through the night?"

"No. I awoke after an hour." said Reb Mendel. "I had this vivid dream, and it awakened me."

"A nightmare?"

"No-o. You remember that young man I used to call our young Viking?"

"Akiva, Akiva Rokeach."

"That's the one, he seemed to be in some sort of trouble. I saw him as clearly as I see you now."

"What kind of trouble?"

The rebbe shrugged. "You know how it is with dreams. So I read for a while and then finally fell asleep again. When I awoke this morning. I felt fine. It was the sweating from the aspirins and the hot tea. I suppose."

"Not to mention the whiskey."

"The whiskey, of course." The rebbe's face relaxed in a sunny smile. "I wonder how he's getting along, our young Viking."