Black Cat Weekly #44

Chapter 7

“Aliya’s fine,” I answered. “Yes, she is working hard. She wants to present her dissertation proposal before the semester ends in December. And what’s number two?”

“Ah,” Grandfather leaned down and picked up a large paper bag that he offered to me. “Your mother thought you might have rushed out without a proper breakfast. I now present to you a proper breakfast.”

My mother was correct. I had gulped some coffee, kissed Aliya goodbye, and run for the train. I took out a double-wrapped egg and cheese sandwich which was still warm and started eating. I was quite hungry.

“Good, then let us work as you nourish yourself,” grandfather said turning serious. “First, allow me to congratulate you on convincing Mr. Gold to come see us quickly. I would have been satisfied if he had come by tomorrow, but his arrival today is very advantageous.”

I smiled between bites. “As I mentioned, Zaida, when I called you yesterday, I didn’t have to do much. As soon as I told Mr. Gold that you’ve agreed to take the case, he said he would take the first flight out in the morning. He lands at LaGuardia at 1:30. He’ll take a cab directly and be here around 3:00.”

“Excellent, that will give us time to review the police file this morning and travel to Washington Heights. I would like to see the exterior of the dormitory and the room itself, the scene of the crime. Again, through the good offices of Sergeant Fink, Detective John Rooney, who led the murder investigation, will meet us there at 11:00.”

The orderliness and efficiency of Grandfather’s mind never ceased to amaze me.

“So, Yoeli, you said that you had a chance to scrutinize the police report traveling back on the train and delivering it to me yesterday, yes?”

I felt as if I were about to take a final exam. “Yes,” I answered warily.”

“Then let us unfold the basics, beginning with the weather.”

“The weather?” I fumbled to remember. “I think the report said it was raining the night Ori was killed, right?”

“Yes, and when did the rain end?”

“In the morning, I think.” I looked to Grandfather for corroboration.

“More precisely, the report includes an hourly weather chart that indicates there were heavy rains and wind between midnight and 6:00 am.”

“So, it was raining when Ori was killed,” I said. Was that important? “Where are we going with this, Zaida?”

“Ah Yoeli, how often according to the report are the dorm room floors washed and when?”

I hesitated just a moment. “I believe it said once a week on Friday mornings.”

Grandfather voice rose slightly. “Yes, yes, and in the report we read that there was no mud or water or shoe markings in the room, and that Ori was in his room by 8:30 that Friday evening. He ate Shabbat dinner in the school’s dining hall across the street from the dormitory, thus …”

“So,” I interrupted, “it was someone already in the dorm when the outside doors locked at nine, as indicated in the report.”

Grandfather looked pleased. “Yes, exactly. Next, we will review who else was in the dormitory at the time of the murder. They will be our first suspects. But before we do so, in line with what we just discussed about the weather, does not something peculiar present itself when we examine the pictures of Ori’s dormitory room when forensics arrived?”

Grandfather handed me the report folder, and I looked through the pictures, including one of Ori’s bloodied body on the floor. And then it hit me.

“The window is open.”

“Nuh, nuh,” Grandfather’s switch to Yiddish vernacular prompted me to say more.

“If the window was open, and it was raining heavily and windy, you’d think at least some water would have made its way into the room. Which suggests someone opened the window after it quit raining but before the body was discovered. But why, and by whom? I don’t think the police would have altered anything in the crime scene before pictures were taken.”

“Two critical questions which we will keep before us as we look at who else was in the dormitory on the night of the murder.”

“Well,” I rushed to answer, “we know a Mrs. Wachter was there. Report says she’s a widow, had been the dorm mother for 15 years, and her role is ‘to nurture the boys and see to their health’, whatever that means. She has an apartment on the first floor. I don’t remember a picture of her being in the file. I wonder why?”

“I would surmise that it is merely lazy analysis. The police jumped to the conclusion that such a lady could not have been involved in a murder. I want to hear her thoughts on Ori and the other boys who were there that tragic night. Since we will be meeting Mrs. Wachter shortly, let us proceed to the others. Which boy would you like to review first? As we do so, let us scrutinize the photos of each one.”

“Okay, how about Sheldon Lachs, the dorm RA?” He was a senior and had a room on the first floor, cattycorner from Mrs. Wachter’s apartment.

The full body photos were in black and white. Sheldon Lachs appeared to be of average build and around six foot. He was wearing a white dress shirt and dark trousers with knotted ritual fringes or tzitzit, dangling on both sides of his pants pockets. His eyes expressed fright, and he looked away from the camera. Also, he had short sidelocks in the manner of ultra orthodox Jews and stubble on his cheeks. A large skullcap covered his short-cropped hair.