Read Online The Devil in Jerusalem by Naomi Ragen - Free Book Online

anything. And a mother and father in custody, the former reading psalms all day and the latter proclaiming his innocence and ignorance.
    â€œUnless we come up with something, we’re going to have to let the father go.”
    She was shocked. “Why?”
    â€œHe’s separated from the mother, divorced, something, living outside Jerusalem. He hasn’t seen the children in months and he has an iron-clad alibi for the days the kids were injured.”
    â€œWhat’s he like?”
    â€œWeird, American, dressed in prophet-wannabe flowing white robes. But not evil. Incredibly naïve, though, a born-again Jew, brainwashed by all that Breslov stuff, the red strings, amulets, and whatnot. My gut tells me he wasn’t involved. Maybe he’s a fool, but he isn’t a monster.”
    â€œDid you get anything from him?”
    â€œHard to tell at this point. He rambled. But he did say something curious we need to follow up on. He said the divorce itself wasn’t supposed to be permanent. It was simply a temporary tikkun .”
    â€œHe used that word? From the kabbalah?” Tikkun, a correction, a way of returning the divine sparks of holiness that had been lost—she remembered from her days in the religious public school system.
    He nodded slowly. “He said he divorced his wife in order to, get this, improve their relationship! Go figure that one out. While he was gone, his fellow yeshiva students had apparently started living in the house to help his ex, who was finding it hard to manage alone with all seven kids.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou’re religious, Bina. Tell me, is that normal, for three yeshiva guys to move in with a religious woman who’s just gotten divorced?”
    â€œAbsolutely not! Especially if you’re telling me we are dealing with haredim.” She shook her head. “What else did the ex say?”
    â€œNothing, really. He just looked stunned by the whole thing, saying that there had to be some mistake, that his lovely, gentle wife was a wonderful mother and would never, ever hurt their children.”
    â€œDid he ask about his children?”
    â€œMany times. He really seemed distraught and anxious to take care of them. Of course, we told him he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near them until we had more information.”
    â€œGood. Even if he isn’t directly responsible for child abuse, they were his kids, after all. He can’t just think he is going to walk away from all this.”
    Morris shrugged. “Okay, right. But he’s not the problem, Bina. Think about it. If the mother wouldn’t hurt a fly, and the father isn’t responsible, then who is?”
    She looked down at the papers in front of her. “Have you spoken to the mother?”
    He nodded, pulling up a chair and looking into her eyes. “If he was eccentric, then she is certifiable. Dressed like the prophetess Deborah, too busy muttering prayers nonstop to worry about her damaged kids. You grew up in a religious home. What do you make of the ‘holy’ act?”
    She shrugged. “Haven’t you and I seen the worst serial rapists and child abusers suddenly put on a skullcap when they have to face a judge? It’s easy enough to wear long sleeves and cover your hair.”
    â€œIt never impresses the court, but that doesn’t seem to stop them trying.” He grimaced. “And afterwards, they whine their way into the ‘religious’ wing of any prison, where they spend their days as pious Talmud scholars instead of working. But a woman trying that tack? I haven’t seen it before. Also, she doesn’t appear to be evil or insane, the Andrea Yates, Susan Smith kind of psychopath. And the kids? They are dying to see her and keep asking about her. Even the one in the hospital with the burns hugged her and clung to her. I’ve never seen children treat an abusive parent that way.”
    â€œActually,