A Hole In One, Paul Weininger [top novels to read txt] 📗

• Where is Jules?

• Is the assailant really such a poor shooter?

• Was the assailant just trying to scare them; if so, then why?

• Who is this Rabbi Isaac? What info does he have?

The situation was getting more intriguing by the minute. He knew the four men weren’t being extorted for money because he had subpoenaed copies of each of their bank accounts, checked them and found no large withdrawals. The target must have been one of the four, yet the shooter was apparently trying to confuse the police as to which man was the real target. Stymied by these puzzles, the next step was clearly for Pratt to call this Rabbi Isaac in Scottsdale and see what he had to offer.

Rabbi Isaac picked up the phone. “Hello, this is Rabbi Isaac, may I help you, Officer?”

Pratt was momentarily taken aback by this familiarity from someone he’d never spoken to before, then realized Isaac obviously had caller ID. “Yes, Rabbi, I am Detective Pratt, Sedona Police Department. I understand you called because you have some information that might be of interest to me. I was hoping that I could come down and talk to you. Did you see the news about the arrest of Rabbi Bloom here in Sedona? Do you recognize that name?”

“Yes, I’ve met Rabbi Bloom before, though I don’t know him very well. You certainly should come over, Detective. I think I have some information that may alter the course of your investigation.”

“Well, Rabbi, that’s what I’m trying to find out by questioning people such as you.”

“Okay then, come to my home at 10:00 tomorrow morning. My address is...”

“Sorry, don’t mean to interrupt you, Rabbi, but I already have your address. I’ll be there at 10:00 a.m.”

The next day couldn’t arrive soon enough for the detective. He rang the bell and Rabbi Isaac let him in. He was offered a cup of coffee or tea, which Pratt gracefully declined, anxious to get to his questions.

“Rabbi, I’m eager to hear what you have to offer that may change the course of my investigation.”

“I received a call from a man named Richard Straub sometime a couple of months after Rabbi Bloom was feted and featured in the newspaper. He told me that he wanted Hebrew lessons. At first I was afraid that I might be meeting with a potential terrorist,” Isaac replied.

“Is that what this is all about?” Pratt asked.

“No, Detective, he said he really wanted to learn Hebrew and asked me if I would give him those lessons. I asked the gentleman why he wanted to learn Hebrew now, since he sounded like an adult and not a twelve-year-old boy. He told me that his parents who were Jewish had divorced when he was eleven and he never had a bar mitzvah at thirteen, the conventional age. So, he wanted to learn Hebrew and get his bar mitzvah now and be recognized as an adult Jewish man by his faith,” replied Isaac.

“Since his sessions with you, have you heard about the body we discovered in the backyard of Rabbi Neil Bloom in Flagstaff ?”

“Yes, I have. Do you believe he is the killer of the body you found? Have you determined whose body it was?”

“We don’t know, yet. That’s what we’re attempting to find out. You say you heard about Rabbi Bloom’s arrest and that you had met him personally?”

“Yes, I had. That’s why I called you in the first place. I think this may have something to do with Mr. Straub, who was that client of mine.”

“In what way do you believe this involves Mr. Straub?” the detective asked diligently.

Rabbi Isaac responded, “I’ve seen Mr. Straub for many months and began noticing some interesting things about him. He has a remarkably close resemblance to Rabbi Bloom, if Mr. Straub cleaned himself up. He could possibly even pass for Rabbi Bloom if he were to get a shave and haircut. I can’t help but wonder if his interest in Hebrew lessons may have been for a more nefarious reason, because he didn’t stick with the lessons long enough to get bar mitzvahed, even though he was fully paid up to the time. He took just enough lessons to get by reading Hebrew and become knowledgeable enough regarding some of the prayers said at a synagogue, but certainly not enough to get bar mitzvahed.”

“Thank you very much, Rabbi, that’s really interesting. Do you happen to have his phone number or address?”

“No, I’m sorry, but I never needed it and he never offered any of that information.”

“Well then, Rabbi, thank you for giving me your time. The information you provided is greatly appreciated. Please keep in mind that we may need to subpoena you should this result in a trial,” Pratt advised him.

“I understand.”

At his first opportunity, Pratt reported the encounter to Sommerville, who seemed delighted at what he heard.

Twenty-Two

On Sabbath Saturdays, some of Rabbi Bloom’s congregants started noticing something strange about his demeanor when he conducted services. Usually calm and composed, the Rabbi appeared more uncomfortable starting just prior to his arrest and subsequent release on bond. Todd noticed something else about Bloom that he couldn’t remember seeing before, something that caused him to eventually contact Detective Pratt. The Rabbi had a small birthmark on the right side of his neck slightly above the collar of his shirt. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but it left him perplexed. After all, he had been to services on hundreds of occasions, played golf with the Rabbi for the past ten years and known him for eighteen years. As far as Todd knew, the Rabbi didn’t have a birthmark, especially one so visible.

Todd went to Sabbath services for the next two weeks and kept staring at the mark on the Rabbi’s neck, bothered that he couldn’t recall it being there before. After the third week, he approached Bloom outside of the synagogue and, not wishing to confuse his friend and golfing partner, calmly approached the Rabbi. “Tell me Neil,