Rabbi Gabrielle's Defiance (43 page)

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Authors: Roger Herst

Tags: #romance, #thriller, #crime, #suspense, #rabbi, #washington dc

BOOK: Rabbi Gabrielle's Defiance
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From his throat rose a slurping gargle,
unattended by coherent words.

"Will three days be enough time for you, Mr.
Sutterfeld? I think that's an appropriate interval before I share
what I've found."

"Can I have your pictures of the candlestick
and the menorah?"

"I thought you'd ask. I brought photocopies
of both. They're not as clear as the originals, but should serve
your purpose. If necessary, I can have duplicates made."

"I can reach you at Ohav Shalom, I
presume."

"Absolutely. But I hope what won't be
necessary. As you pointed out before, I'm a prospective defendant
in the case and communication should take place through counsel for
Dominion Mutual or Ohav Shalom. I can't think of a reason why our
paths should cross again, Mr. Sutterfeld. As far as I'm concerned,
I just came down to the Mall for an evening jog. The sun was warm
as it settled down over the Potomac. The Capital is always
inspiring, don't you think? Good luck, Mr. Sutterfeld."

She cut away sharply jogging west on
Constitution Avenue. After a good hard run and heavy perspiration,
she caught the Metro at the Smithsonian Station.

Once Ohav Shalom released Asa Folkman from his
contractual responsibilities, Gabby suggested a going-away
reception in his honor. Many congregants were unenthusiastic
because they blamed him for legal morass with the Morgensterns,
though none accepted the prosecution's claim of professional
negligence. They accepted gradations of responsibility and in this
matter Ohav members seemed to be distributed along a bell-curve.
For the honoring festivities, Cantor Blass volunteered to assemble
a musical program, featuring Asa's musical contributions to the
synagogue's liturgy. Gabby invited Asa's admirers to speak about
his contributions to the Jewish community in Washington.

Asa's duties shifted immediately to Gabby and
she found herself once again working longer hours. As she has done
in the past, she medicated her personal sadness with hard work,
though day by day the acute pain over Kye diminished. The peaks and
valleys of her emotional curve slowly flattened out. Healing, she
knew, to be a long and slow process, during which some days her
heart felt shattered and others, strong enough to cope.

In ninety-seven emails, she dispatched to yeshivas in
Jerusalem seeking Kye, she hid her gender by signing Rabbi G.
Lewyn. Yes, her rabbinic title might elicit extra attention from
Orthodox yeshiva directors, but they were unlikely to respond, much
less recognize, a female rabbi. The fact that Kye knew her
whereabouts and could communicate whenever he chose dampened her
optimism. By not availing himself of the opportunity he sent a
clear message about their relationship. No doubt he would prohibit
yeshiva authorities from answering queries about his presence. She
was utterly surprised when the following email showed up in her
mailbox from Yeshiva Shomer-Mitzvot in the Jewish sector of Old
Jerusalem.

Dear Rabbi G. Lewyn,

We wish to respond to your inquiry
regarding Mr. Kye Naah who is studying with us on a daily basis. I
am told he boards with a group of older students and has recently
moved into private quarters somewhere in East Jerusalem. We do not
have his current address, but you might write to him with this
email address and we'll forward it. B'Shalom.

Rabbi Yitzack Rozan, Executive
Secretary, Yeshiva Shomer-Mitzvot, 22 Rehov Sholomo Alcazi,
Jerusalem.

The thought of catching a plane for Israel obsessed
Gabby. It was an impulsive idea, but then, she asked herself, what
had this love-sick girl got to lose? Were she not fully encumbered
with rabbinic duties, that's exactly what she would have done. But
with Asa preparing to leave for California this fanciful flight was
impossible.

Writing a return email that might be read by all and
sundry in the yeshiva had no appeal. An airmail letter would take
at least a week to reach Kye. She decided to refrain from personal
remarks and continue to hide her feminine identity. In the end, she
typed out a simple message.

To Kye Naah,

You are probably surprised to hear
from me. It took a little sleuthing to learn your whereabouts.
Please tell me why you left for Israel and give me some idea when
you are planning a trip home.

Shalom, Rabbi G. Lewyn.

Since he had failed to contact her, she counseled
herself not to expect a reply. Kye obviously wished to keep his
reasons for studying in Israel secret. It took an act of courage to
punch a simple button on her computer and dispatch her message into
cyberspace.

Two days later, his reply appeared in her
mailbox.

Gabby,

I'm so happy to hear from
you. The Holyland is marvelous, but it has never been so wonderful
as when your message arrived and I felt you next to me. I have not
contacted you for a reason. When you told me you couldn't run for
Congress, I knew it was a major turning point in my life. I needed
to do some heavy-duty thinking. I had worked years for
Politicstoday
. I was
angry with you because I believed you could have helped me save it.
But the truth lay elsewhere.
Politicstoday
was terminally ill well
before we met in West Virginia and it was wrong to have blamed you
for its demise. When I was able to acknowledge that, I began to see
you through different eyes

In my mind's eye, I see
you with the Bread of Affliction standing before television
cameras. We can dream all we like, but facts cannot be avoided. It
took me weeks to fully acknowledge that you're a teacher, not a
politician. You knew that all the time. I didn't.

This brought me to another
insight, even more important. I had lost
Politicstoday,
but I didn't want to
lose you, too. One day I stripped down to my birthday suit and
stood stark naked before a full-size mirror. What I saw is what you
already know. We are as different in the flesh as we are in the
mind and spirit. I'm a naturalized American computer geek from
Korea with my foreskin in place. You were born an American Jew. How
many people have a faith as strong as yours and a heritage as rich?
Before the mirror I asked myself how in God's name I might hold on
to you for anything more than a passing fling. Your people would
never accept a Korean Baptist as anything more than a temporary
anomaly.

I once believed that
science and technology could eventually solve all human problems.
One by one, people problems seem to disappear with the invention of
some new technology. My feelings for you defy this belief and I am
stymied. While I would love to hold you tightly against me, I knew
we both needed time to sort out the mess I brought about. I can
only imagine what horrors Gina McQuire's profile brought
you.

Meanwhile, I'm in the
process of selling the remaining database and patents on the
linking technology. The good news is that there are sufficient
assets to pay off my creditors. I often pledged that they would be
made whole and that is only weeks away now. The true losers will be
my sacrificing and loyal associates who labored so hard to make
this go. Fortunately, most are young enough to start again. I am
gratified that none feel cheated. As far as I know not a single one
has responded to a coterie of hungry lawyers seeking participation
in a class action lawsuit against me. When I'm depressed I just
tell myself that the Phoenix will rise again.

If you've got it in your
heart, Gabby, wait for me
.

Much love, Kye

She clicked the Reply button to type a response, but
her arms became victim to violent trembling. However much she tried
to master this shaking, she could not. Her fingers could do no more
than peck wildly at the keyboard, sending gibberish onto the
screen.
Yes, I will, yes I will, yes I
will
she repeated out loud. But communicating that to Kye
was impossible until her imprisoned nerves returned to normal.

At Asa's going-away party, Anina Norstrom was
elegant in a blue taffeta gown that sloped from her shoulders in a
manner boarding on the seductive. Coifed hair and a simple strand
of pearls hung from her long, slender neck. She deflected the
conversation when the subject of Asa's move to California came up,
though Gabby had often heard her refer to the Golden State as
"nirvana for second-chancers and yahoos."

Four musicians played excerpts from
A Jazzman's Sorrow
. By now, all present
had heard portions of this work and had come to expect its
syncopated rhythms. When applause filled the audience, Reuben Blass
clapped his hand against the musical score to make certain the
composer received acclaim along with the musicians. Asa, as always,
remained mystified by fame. For the occasion he had written a new
etude for the synagogue's massive pipe organ, accompanied by a
guitar player and flutist. Gabby chuckled to herself. She wondered
what these aficionados of good music would think if they had seen
their rabbi improvising beside a stage of naked women dancers at
Saloon Can Do.

Anina caught Gabby and whispered into her
ear, "I need to talk with you in private. Is there a place where we
can go?"

Stan Melkin was at the microphone asking for
attention. Since celebrants felt relaxed and very social, they
talked in loud voices. The microphone provided volume that Stan was
not shy about exploiting. It took several minutes before voices
quieted enough for him to make his announcement.

"Friends, friends," he held the mike close to
his lips and waved his free arm wildly as though trying to attract
the attention of a passing boat on the ocean. "I've got some
electrifying news to share with you."

Anina and Gabby postponed their
conversation.

Stan was wild with excitement, "You all know
how lawyers work long and odd hours. Associates often burn the
midnight candle, so to speak. Two young women on my staff just
called on my cell phone to say I had received a fax from Marc
Sutterfeld, counsel for the Morgenstern family. They read it to me
and I feel the compelled to share the contents with you. This is
the gist of the message. Apparently, the Morgenstern family has
agreed to accept a sum a little higher than our insurance carrier
has offered. It's a lot of money, but far less than Mr. Sutterfeld
originally demanded. It's an enormous relief, I can tell you. Tybee
Morgenstern will now have sufficient funds for her medical care and
special educational needs. I'm sure many of you who have expressed
deep sympathy for the family will be relieved."

Gabby excused herself from Anina and elbowed
through the circle to engulf Asa, then surrounded by a coterie of
female admirers, in an unabashed hug. Few had seen her express such
affection for him in the past and were puzzled. She knew few
understood how much he grieved for the Morgenstern girls. His chief
concern had always been that Tybee should never have to worry about
money. He hugged Gabby back with equal enthusiasm.

From a cluster of members, an Israeli born
congregant belted out at Stan. "
Mah Pitom
,
Why now? I mean, what happened to caused this change of mind?"

A few moments elapsed while the president
absorbed the question and fashioned a response. "You have to
understand, Danny, that Ohav Shalom has an awesome team of lawyers
working hard for its welfare. The firm of Delew, Samis and Quine
has been advising us and Dominion Mutual Insurance Company's
counsel, Horace Corcoran, has assembled formidable experts. While
one doesn't like to think of bargaining in matters such as this,
you can be assured that these lawyers kept Mr. Sutterfeld and his
people's feet to the fire. In the end, apparently reason prevailed.
My guess is that the family didn't want take Ohav Shalom to court.
That wouldn't have served anybody's interests, especially Tybee
Morgenstern's."

Gabby hid her amusement. Lawyers, she knew,
were fond of boasting about their intellectual skills and Stan
couldn't resist the opportunity. There was no way to deflate his
hubris without telling him of her meeting with Marc Sutterfeld and
that she had no intention of doing. Her gamble that Sutterfeld
would not face a jury with the new evidence had paid off. She
sighted Chuck staring at her, his smile sealing their
conspiracy.

The musicians broke out an unscheduled round
of energetic Israeli dances.
Chorrah
dancers assembled, casting arms around each other in a circle.

Gabby and Stan met in a congratulatory mood.
"One question," she asked. "You just dropped a bombshell when you
said,
a little higher than the insurance company
offered
. How much higher than the ten Ms, Stan?"

He glanced around to make certain nobody
nearby might overhear, then whispered for her benefit. "A million
bucks."

"Wow," she gushed. "That's more than
a little
. Where did Sutterfeld come up
with that sum?"

"Easy," he replied. "There's a ten percent
fee tacked on for the services of Grand and Morrison. We're going
to have to do a little negotiating on that matter. Since we're not
going to court, Grand and Morrison isn't entitled to a million
dollar windfall. In the end, I can assure you, Ohav Shalom won't
pay more than a fraction of that for legal fees."

Anina Norstrom circled back to cut Gabby off
from another discussion with Stan, Shirley Delinsky and Marvin
Jankelrod. "I still want to talk with you, Rabbi Gabby," she said,
her hand tugging upon her arm.

Gabby respected Anina as an ambitious, highly
intelligent woman, who wouldn't be foolish enough to let a man as
good as Asa slip away to California without first making a claim to
him either with engagement or wedding plans. In that respect, Anina
was far ahead of Asa. They left the social hall to speak in private
and found a religious school classroom, then sat in small
grade-school chairs with their knees near their chins, their backs
arched forward – stimulating for memories of childhood.

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