“Then you feel differently now about Hirsh’s burial,” suggested the rabbi.

The old man’s mouth set in a hard line. “No, Rabbi,” he said. “A rule is a rule.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

No formal announcement was made by the district attorney; only a short notice appeared in the inside pages of the Lynn Examiner stating that the district attorney’s office was looking into the circumstances surrounding the death September 18 of Isaac Hirsh of 4 Bradford Lane, Barnard’s Crossing, and that a petition might be filed for an order to exhume the body.

Marvin Brown caught the item as he glanced through the paper during his morning coffee break and called Mortimer Schwarz immediately.

“I’ll bet the rabbi had something to do with that, Mort. It’s a trick-it’s one of the rabbi’s little tricks, I tell you.” He sounded excited.

“But how could the rabbi get to the district attorney? And what does he gain by it?”

“He’s thick as thieves with Chief Lanigan and Lanigan goes to the D.A. As for what he stands to gain-why, he stops us from going ahead.”

“You mean with the road? What’s that got to do with the D.A.’s investigation?”

“Well, wouldn’t it look kind of funny if we start building a road to set off the very grave they’re interested in? The paper said they were going to exhume the body. Wouldn’t that look nice while they’re digging up the body for us to be laying out the road? You don’t think there’d be questions?”

“I still don’t see anything for us to get excited about, Marve. Obviously there’s no connection between our work and theirs. And frankly, I can’t imagine the rabbi going to all that trouble, especially where it doesn’t change things the least bit. You know what I think? This guy Beam, the investigator for the insurance company, he must have got the ball rolling on this. After all, he represents a big insurance company that has a lot at stake. My guess is that they’d have a lot more influence with the district attorney than the rabbi would.”

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, Mort, I’m not going ahead with the road business until after the district attorney is out of there.”

“Personally, I don’t see it. But if you feel that way, okay, so we’ll wait a week.”

“But what about the Board meeting Sunday? It’s not safe to go ahead with the rabbi’s resignation while this business with Hirsh is still hanging fire.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there, Marve. You sure you don’t want to go ahead with our plans-”

“No.”

“All right, I’ll tell you what we’ll do: we’ll call off the Board meeting.”

“Isn’t that kind of high-handed?”

“I don’t think so. As president I can call a special meeting, can’t I?”

“Sure, but-”

“So why can’t I call off a meeting? Matter of fact, I could just call up our friends and tell them not to show. Then we wouldn’t have a quorum.”

“Maybe that would be better.”

“Well, I’ll see. In the meantime, keep your eye on the situation.”

Brown was aware that the door of his office had opened and that his secretary was standing on the threshold. He wondered uneasily how much she had heard. He looked up at her inquiringly.

“There are two men to see you, Mr. Brown-from the police.”

Since the death of her husband, Patricia Hirsh had not been left alone for a single evening by her friends and neighbors. She had been invited to dinner, and even when she was too tired and had to beg off, someone would drop in to spend part of the long evening with her. So she was not surprised one evening when Peter Dodge dropped in on her, although she had not seen him since the funeral.

“I’m afraid I’ve been neglecting you, Pat. But I’ve been so busy with details of the MOGRE trip.”

“Oh, I understand,” she said. “And you’ve had to give up your walks, I suppose.”

He seemed embarrassed. “No, I’ve passed here several times and thought of stopping, but there always seemed to be company-”

“They were just neighbors, friends from around here.”

“I suppose it was foolish of me. I-I didn’t want them to think I might be calling for-well, for professional reasons.”

“Professional reasons?”

“Well, you see your friends and neighbors are mostly Jewish, and I was afraid they might think I was trying to win you back, now that your husband was gone.”

“But I was never converted,” she said. “Ike and I were married by a justice of the peace.”

“I know, I know. It was silly of me. Please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Peter.”

“Oh, but there is. You were all alone, and I should have been by your side, as your oldest friend here, as someone from your hometown-”

She smiled. “Well, all right, Peter, I forgive you.”

She patted his hand, and immediately he capped it with his own. “Tell me, how are you really? I know it was a terrible shock, but are you all right now?”

Gently she withdrew her hand. “Yes, Peter. It’s lonely, of course, but everyone has been very nice.”

“And what are you planning to do? Go back to South Bend?”

“Oh, I don’t think so, not to South Bend. I left there some time before I met Ike, and I have no one there, or anywhere else, for that matter. I haven’t thought about it much, but I suppose I will stay on here for a while and try to get a job of some sort. I’d like to keep this house as long as I can, but I might have to give it up and take a small flat in Lynn or Salem -”

“A job is a good idea; it will keep your mind occupied.”

“I suppose it will do that too, but it will mean I can eat regularly.” She smiled. “I sort of got into the habit.”

He was shocked. “I didn’t realize. Didn’t Ike-”

“Leave me provided? There’s a small checking account, less than three thousand dollars, and a savings account of a little over a thousand. We paid down four thousand dollars on the house, and I’m sure I won’t have any trouble selling the house for what we paid for it. And there’s the car which I plan to sell. After what happened I never want to see it again.”

“But wasn’t there insurance?”

“Yes, there was insurance. But there also was a suicide clause, and there’s a man around, a Mr. Beam, who is working for the insurance company, an investigator. If the insurance company decides it was suicide, then they’ll just return the premiums we paid in and that’s all.”

“But they have to prove it, Pat. They can’t just decide on their own.”

“That’s true, they can’t. But they can refuse to pay, and then I would have to sue them for the money. It could drag on for years. Dr. Sykes said they might offer me a settlement, but it would be a lot less than the policy calls for. Still I think I’d probably take it if it were anything within reason.”

“But why? You don’t think he committed suicide, do you?”

She nodded slowly. “I think perhaps he may have.” And she told him what happened at Goddard, how he was going downhill. When she finished, Dodge was silent a moment. Then: “I can’t believe it. I didn’t know your husband for long, and I didn’t know him very well, but his mind-well, he was still one of the smartest men I ever met.” He rose. “Look, Pat, I’ve got to go now. I’ve got to pack. I’m taking a plane south on this Civil Rights business tonight and just came to say goodby. I’ll be gone a week or two-three at the most. You can’t tell what’s likely to happen once you get down there.”

She held out her hand and he took it in both of his. “Promise me you won’t do anything-you won’t come to any decision on the insurance or anything else-until I get back. There are people in my parish, important people, businessmen, and I will consult with them. If you should need a job, I’m sure one of them will help. I want you to stay on here.”

She smiled at him. “All right, Peter. I’m not likely to do anything for the next few weeks.” She went to the door with him.