Saturday the Rabbi Went Hungry by Harry Kemelman Read Free Book Online Page A

local police departments to be on the lookout. And I’ll have the cruising car stop by at your house… In a few minutes. Will you put your porch light on, please… We’ll do everything we can, ma’am.”
    The patrol car answered his signal right away. “Take this down, Joe. Chevrolet, four-door sedan, light blue, rusty dent on left rear fender. License number 438,972, repeat, 438,972. Isaac Hirsh, 4 Bradford Lane. It’s next to the corner. The porch light will be on. His wife just called in. He works at the Goddard Lab on Route 128. She was out baby-sitting for a neighbor, and when she got back he had gone. Nothing unusual, he’s apt to run down to the lab and work at night. But she called the lab a little while ago and he wasn’t there and hadn’t been there. Stop over and talk to her. See if she’s got a picture of him we can broadcast.”
    “Okay, Sarge. Say – Isaac Hirsh – isn’t that the guy who went on a toot some months back and we finally located him in a dive in the South End in Boston?”
    “Yeah, come to think of it. I’ll notify Boston police to keep an eye out for him. That’s probably what happened – got thirsty again. When you go over, kind of suggest that she look around and see if anything is missing, like the cooking sherry or his aftershave bay rum. Those guys will drink anything when it hits them.”
    “Got it, Sarge.” He turned to his partner. “Let’s go, Tommy boy.”
    “What is it, a missing drunk? Why don’t we stop at a couple of places downtown first, The Foc’sle and the Sea and Sand, and see if he’s there.”
    “Not that kind of drunk, Tommy. He’s some hot-shot scientist. He don’t drink, except every now and then he goes on a big toot that lasts for days, even weeks. Last time, at least last time we know about on account of the missus calling in, he was missing three days. It must have been all of eight months ago, maybe more. The Boston police finally found him holed up in a filthy little dive of a hotel in the South End. He was lying in bed fully dressed with a pile of dead soldiers on the floor. I don’t think he had eaten in all that time. Mark my words, when we turn him up, it’ll probably be another such place. Ah, here we are, the house with the porch light. I recognize it now, we took him home in the ambulance last time. You wait here in case the sergeant calls in.”
    Patricia Hirsh opened the door before he had a chance to ring. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Officer.” Although she was obviously agitated, her voice was controlled.
    “Just as soon as we got the message, ma’am.” He took out his notebook and pencil from the thigh pocket of his uniform. “Now, can you tell me what your husband was wearing?”
    “Oh.” She went to the hall closet. “A light topcoat – it’s gray, dark gray herringbone. And – no, his hat is here. Underneath he had on a regular business suit – dark brown.”
    “And can you give me a description of him, height, weight, and so on?”
    “He’s quite plump. He weighs about a hundred and ninety pounds and is about five three.” As he looked up involuntarily, she said, “Yes, he’s shorter than I am. He’s also quite a bit older. He’s fifty-one, and bald,” she added defiantly, “with a moustache.”
    “You got a picture of him, ma’am?”
    “Yes, upstairs in the bedroom. Would you like me to get it?”
    “If you please.” As she started for the stairs, he called after her, “I’ll just give this information to my partner outside so he can call it in right away.”
    At the car he asked Tommy if there had been any calls. His partner shook his head, then said: “Better check out the house, Joe. The garage door, I notice it’s down. When we first came on duty about eight o’clock a number of them were up. Probably because so many people were over at the temple.”
    “Okay, I’ll check it. Meantime, call in this description.” And after repeating what Mrs. Hirsh had told him, he went back to