Read Online Someday the Rabbi Will Leave by Harry Kemelman - Free Book Online Page A

nice whatsis,” he said and massaged it affectionately.
    â€œOh you.” She took the package of prints from him and began to shuffle through them, commenting on each. “This is a little out of focus … Oh, this is a good one … You moved on this one … What’s this?”
    He took the print from her. “Oh, that was taken at the Blainey testimonial dinner a couple of months ago. See those five guys at the head table?” He laughed loudly. “That’s Rocco Vestucci and Charlie Mayes, and that’s Jim Blainey in the middle, and then on the other side of him is Frank Callahan and Whatsisname Peterson, Nels Peterson. And every single one of those guys has been indicted and is going to jail. What do you think of that?”
    â€œNice bunch of friends you got.”
    â€œAw, Baby, it’s business. You do business with them, so when they ask you to buy a ticket to a testimonial for a friend of theirs, you got to buy a ticket.”
    â€œBut you don’t have to go.”
    â€œWell, it’s usually a good feed, and you’ve paid for it. Besides, they almost always have entertainment. That’s why I took the camera with me. Know what I mean?”
    â€œSure, you mean naked girls.”
    â€œNot this time, there wasn’t. There was a priest there, one of the guests. I bet the guy that sold him a ticket got hell when he told the committee.” He dismissed the idea. “Nah, a priest wouldn’t buy a ticket. He’d get one free. Maybe on Blarney’s orders. He’s a very religious guy, Jim Blainey. Goes to church every Sunday.”
    â€œAnd if he’s in jail?”
    â€œThink they ain’t got a church there?”
    â€œI suppose. Say, who’s this guy at the end. He been indicted, too?”
    â€œLemme see. Gee, I don’t remember him sitting there. Maybe he came in for a minute to talk to Nels Peterson or one of the others. He remind you of somebody?”
    â€œNobody I know.”
    â€œHow about Tommy Baggio?”
    â€œWho’s Tommy Baggio?”
    â€œHe’s a city councillor here. He’s running for state senator. His picture was in the paper yesterday. You got yesterday’s paper? Did you throw it out?”
    â€œI don’t think so. Just a minute, I’ll see.”
    She went to the cabinet kitchen, rummaged in a large basket, and found the paper, which she handed him. He turned pages, scanning each page quickly. Then he exclaimed, “Ah, here it is. Now, don’t he look just like the guy in the snapshot?”
    Although wanting to please him, she could not help shaking her head. “No-o, Honey. This guy in the snap has no moustache.”
    â€œSo we give him one. Look.” He covered the lower part of the face in the newspaper with a fingernail. “Look at the eyes, the forehead, the hair.”
    â€œYe-ah, maybe …”
    â€œIt’s nothing to add a moustache,” he mused, his eyes focused on the ceiling, his mind far off.
    â€œBut why would you want to?” she asked.
    He smiled. “It could pay off, Baby.”
    â€œHow could it? What would it do?”
    He smiled broadly. “Make me some money, Baby.”
    â€œBut how?”
    â€œThere are angles, Baby. I got to think about it.”

10
    â€œYou got a minute, David? It was Morton Brooks, the Principal of the religious school.”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œI’ll be right up.”
    The rabbi replaced the receiver, wondering at the principal’s politeness. Usually he didn’t bother to call to inquire if the rabbi were free when he wanted to see him. His normal procedure, even if the door of the rabbi’s study was closed, was to knock perfunctorily and barge in. A few minutes later, the length of time it took him to mount the stairs from his office in the vestry to the rabbi’s study on the second floor, Morton Brooks entered and flung himself in the visitor’s chair in