Mrs. Kaplan and the Matzoh Ball of Death by Mark Reutlinger Page B
Authors: Mark Reutlinger
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“I will telephone to Sara right away,” I said, “and we shall see what we shall see.”
20
I left Mrs. K making more notes on her list and went to my own room. There I looked up Sara’s telephone number. It took me a while to get up the nerve to phone, because I wasn’t sure how she would react to being asked such a thing, or for that matter how I would ask. “How is your mother, and by the way could we borrow your burglar for a while?”
But at last I convinced myself that Sara and I were close enough that she would understand, or at least forgive me for asking.
I dialed and I was much relieved that Sara answered the phone. One cannot very well leave such a message on one of those blabbing answer machines! It would be like entrusting a secret to the town
yenta
!
“How are you, Sara? This is your Aunt Ida,” I began.
“Auntie Ida! How nice to hear from you. What can I do for you?”
This was the difficult part, of course. “Well, Sara dear, it is a little hard to explain. Do you remember telling me that a friend of yours was a…was engaged in…took things from people’s houses for a living?”
Sara laughed. “You mean my friend Florence? Yes, that’s right. Why?”
“Well, you see, dear, my good friend Rose Kaplan, whom you have met a few times when you were here at the Home…”
“Yes, I remember Mrs. Kaplan. A tall lady, very nice, and very sharp as I recall.”
“Yes, that is her. Now if you are sitting down comfortable, let me tell you why I am calling.” And I proceeded to tell Sara the whole story about Bertha Finkelstein’s strange death in the matzoh ball soup, Daisy Goldfarb’s stolen earrings, and how the police now suspected Mrs. K of both. Sara did not interrupt, except with an occasional “uh huh” or “no kidding,” and I had no way to know if she was understanding the pickle that we were in. Finally, I got to the difficult part:
“And so, Sara dear, Mrs. K and I are wondering whether you might ask your friend…your Florence…whether she might be willing to…well, to snoop around a little in the rooms of these three individuals who are left on Mrs. K’s list. Just a look around, you understand, to see if certain items are there.”
I was holding my breath for Sara’s answer. I would not have been surprised if she had said that she wouldn’t think of suggesting such a thing to her friend. So I was greatly relieved when she said, “You know, that’s not such a bad idea. Of course, I don’t know what my friend Flo will think of it. It’s easy enough to suggest such a thing, but we wouldn’t be the ones taking the risk, would we? And what’s in it for Flo? Wouldn’t it be like asking a mechanic to fix your friend’s car for free?”
I had no good answer for that. Neither Mrs. K nor I have much money, barely enough to hire a professional mechanic, much less a professional thief!
“Flo might,” Sara continued, “say that she’ll do it, but if she finds something particularly interesting while she is, as you say, ‘snooping,’ and she happens to leave with that something in her possession and neglects to tell us about it…”
It was maybe a good thing that Sara couldn’t see me, because I probably looked shocked when I heard this. Of course there is a big difference between snooping and taking! I was torn between my wanting to save Mrs. K from those policemen, and the fact that I have always been a good law-abiding person, as has Mrs. K. (I do not count things like maybe sometimes keeping the extra change when the cashier makes a mistake in my favor, which I always consider is just their way of making up for the times when the mistake is in their favor.)
“Well,” I said at last, “I don’t think we could agree to that. But let us wait and see if that is what your friend says.”
Sara laughed. “Sure. I was just guessing anyway.”
So it was decided that Sara would ask her friend Florence for this big favor as soon as she could.
I
“I will telephone to Sara right away,” I said, “and we shall see what we shall see.”
20
I left Mrs. K making more notes on her list and went to my own room. There I looked up Sara’s telephone number. It took me a while to get up the nerve to phone, because I wasn’t sure how she would react to being asked such a thing, or for that matter how I would ask. “How is your mother, and by the way could we borrow your burglar for a while?”
But at last I convinced myself that Sara and I were close enough that she would understand, or at least forgive me for asking.
I dialed and I was much relieved that Sara answered the phone. One cannot very well leave such a message on one of those blabbing answer machines! It would be like entrusting a secret to the town
yenta
!
“How are you, Sara? This is your Aunt Ida,” I began.
“Auntie Ida! How nice to hear from you. What can I do for you?”
This was the difficult part, of course. “Well, Sara dear, it is a little hard to explain. Do you remember telling me that a friend of yours was a…was engaged in…took things from people’s houses for a living?”
Sara laughed. “You mean my friend Florence? Yes, that’s right. Why?”
“Well, you see, dear, my good friend Rose Kaplan, whom you have met a few times when you were here at the Home…”
“Yes, I remember Mrs. Kaplan. A tall lady, very nice, and very sharp as I recall.”
“Yes, that is her. Now if you are sitting down comfortable, let me tell you why I am calling.” And I proceeded to tell Sara the whole story about Bertha Finkelstein’s strange death in the matzoh ball soup, Daisy Goldfarb’s stolen earrings, and how the police now suspected Mrs. K of both. Sara did not interrupt, except with an occasional “uh huh” or “no kidding,” and I had no way to know if she was understanding the pickle that we were in. Finally, I got to the difficult part:
“And so, Sara dear, Mrs. K and I are wondering whether you might ask your friend…your Florence…whether she might be willing to…well, to snoop around a little in the rooms of these three individuals who are left on Mrs. K’s list. Just a look around, you understand, to see if certain items are there.”
I was holding my breath for Sara’s answer. I would not have been surprised if she had said that she wouldn’t think of suggesting such a thing to her friend. So I was greatly relieved when she said, “You know, that’s not such a bad idea. Of course, I don’t know what my friend Flo will think of it. It’s easy enough to suggest such a thing, but we wouldn’t be the ones taking the risk, would we? And what’s in it for Flo? Wouldn’t it be like asking a mechanic to fix your friend’s car for free?”
I had no good answer for that. Neither Mrs. K nor I have much money, barely enough to hire a professional mechanic, much less a professional thief!
“Flo might,” Sara continued, “say that she’ll do it, but if she finds something particularly interesting while she is, as you say, ‘snooping,’ and she happens to leave with that something in her possession and neglects to tell us about it…”
It was maybe a good thing that Sara couldn’t see me, because I probably looked shocked when I heard this. Of course there is a big difference between snooping and taking! I was torn between my wanting to save Mrs. K from those policemen, and the fact that I have always been a good law-abiding person, as has Mrs. K. (I do not count things like maybe sometimes keeping the extra change when the cashier makes a mistake in my favor, which I always consider is just their way of making up for the times when the mistake is in their favor.)
“Well,” I said at last, “I don’t think we could agree to that. But let us wait and see if that is what your friend says.”
Sara laughed. “Sure. I was just guessing anyway.”
So it was decided that Sara would ask her friend Florence for this big favor as soon as she could.
I
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