The Bar Mitzvah Murder by Lee Harris

the trip we drove north not far from the Jordanian border. I had seen Jordan across the Dead Sea on the trip to Masada; now we saw it closer at hand, but there was little to see except desert. I thought that someday I would like to return and visit Petra, the city carved out of stone. That would necessitate at least an overnight trip and would be better done when Jack was strictly on vacation, not just a weekend tourist.
    In the meantime, we talked as we drove, looking at the sights, at Jordan off to the right, slowing for the occasional village.
    â€œSo what progress have you made?” Jack asked finally.
    â€œNot much beyond the initial things we learned at the beginning of the week.”
    â€œWhen you were way ahead of the police.”
    â€œRight. Now I’m not sure I am anymore. I have no idea where Judy Silverman is or if she’s involved in her father’s death. I talked to the doctor this morning, and if he knows something he’s keeping it to himself.”
    â€œWhy would he do that?”
    â€œI suppose because he doesn’t want to implicate a relative.”
    â€œSound conclusion, but I bet you don’t think it’s a relative.”
    â€œAnd I bet you do.”
    â€œHey, they’re not only dearest but nearest. Every one of them had access to Gabe, including the doctor.”
    â€œJack, if one of those people hated Gabe, Gabe would have known it and he wouldn’t have invited that person to the Bar Mitzvah.”
    â€œMaybe Gabe didn’t know it.”
    â€œHow could someone close to Gabe hate him enough to kill him and Gabe didn’t know there was a problem?”
    â€œHave you thought about the wife?” Jack always goes to the most obvious suspects first.
    â€œShe’s devastated, Jack.”
    â€œAnd maybe before she married she did some professional acting and learned how to appear devastated.”
    â€œThere’s no motive.”
    â€œThere’s no motive that you know about. There’s a lot of opportunity.”
    â€œForty shots at opportunity,” I said. “They all had access.”
    â€œBut someone had ties to Jerusalem. Someone was able to get that truck set up to look like an ambulance, to get a couple of guys to play a part at the right moment.”
    â€œGabe’s secretary,” I said.
    â€œWas she at the Bar Mitzvah?”
    â€œI don’t think so. Mel and Marnie gave me thirty-eight of the forty guests’ names and they were all relatives by blood or marriage. Maybe an old friend thrown in.”
    â€œThe secretary didn’t have to be here. She just had to know the contacts. Trust me: she had them. In her position, she’s got a Rolodex you wouldn’t believe.”
    â€œThere’s no motive,” I said with a sigh.
    â€œWell, let’s start thinking of motives.”
    I looked out the window. “I can’t see the Jordan River, but I know it has to be there.”
    â€œThe guy who routed me said when we get up north we’ll see where it comes out of the Sea of Galilee and on the other end we’ll see where it goes in. It’s not much more than a trickle, he said. Not the mighty torrent most people expect.”
    â€œThe Jordan River,” I said. “I wish Joseph were here. For that and a lot of other reasons.”
    Sister Joseph, the General Superior of St. Stephen’s, was my spiritual director for all the years I lived there and has remained my best friend. In addition, she has a real nose for murder and has steered me in the right direction so many times, I wonder if I could have accomplished all that I have without her help.
    â€œI’m afraid this is one time you’ll have to do without, although you could call her and talk.”
    â€œToo expensive.” I would be on my own this time. Come on, Kix, I said to myself, using the name my cousin gave me when we were kids and which the oldest of my friends still use when they see me.