Murder At The Mikvah (3 page)

Yehuda thought for a second. “Tonight would have been Tova Katz, I think.”

I should have called Tova
.

“Have you tried contacting this Tova Katz or the pool, er,
mikvah
area itself?”

“I called the mikvah; there was no answer. But I didn’t try Tova… I guess I should do that…”

“Wait; Rabbi, before you hang up, I want to check with the police and fire departments to see if they responded to any accidents in the last few hours.”

“Thank you, I would appreciate that.”

“Please hold.”

Yehuda pulled open Hannah’s bill drawer. Tucking the phone under his chin, he shuffled papers around searching for her phone book.
Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

“Hello, Rabbi Orenstein, are you there?”

Yehuda nearly dropped the phone. “Yes. Yes, I’m here.”

“It looks like it’s been a pretty busy night… lots of fallen trees, wires down, that sort of thing. Surprisingly, no injuries as a result of the storm. However, I did learn that there were two unrelated emergencies called in tonight.”

Yehuda held his breath.

“The good news is that neither appeared to involve your wife. The first was a drunk driver slamming into a parked car. The second was a ninety year old woman who took a nasty fall down a flight of steps.”

Yehuda exhaled, relieved. There was no accident. Hannah was probably fine. “Thank you for your help. I’m sure I’ll find her.”

“I’d be happy to send a patrol officer to the location, Rabbi…”

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

“All right then. Will you be needing further assistance this evening, Rabbi Orenstein?”

“No… I’m sure everything’s fine.”
Please God.

“Have a good night then.”

“Same to you. Thank you… was it
Marie
?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you Marie.”

Yehuda placed the phone down and flipped through Hannah’s pocket-sized phone book until he reached the “J-K-L” pages. He picked up the phone and punched in the number for Tova Katz. Possible scenarios raced through his head as the phone rang.
Maybe Tova needed help with something at the mikvah. Maybe Tova was feeling ill and needed a ride home.
Hannah was thoughtful like that, but it wasn't like her not to call home and tell him what she was up to. Besides, he had just spoken to her around 10:15 and she hadn’t mentioned anything about being late. Maybe it was a last minute change in plans. Was it possible that she knew he’d be asleep and didn’t want to disturb him? He felt a surge of panic rising once again in his chest. He had not been in favor of opening up the new mikvah while construction was still going on, but he stood in direct opposition to the women of the community who were eager to use the new, modern facility.
Besides, the construction workers aren’t around after dark when we use the building,
Hannah had said, assuring him it was safe.

“Hello?… Hello?” A man’s agitated voice answered.

“Saul?”

“Yes; who is this?”

“Saul, it’s Yehuda. Yehuda Orenstein.”

“Yehuda?” Saul's tone softened. “I didn’t recognize your voice… What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

Yehuda ignored the question. “Saul, is Tova with you?”

“No; she’s not home.”

“Tova didn’t come home tonight?” Yehuda demanded.

“Yehuda, listen… Tova
did
come home, for about twenty minutes, to make a couple of calls and pack. Esti went into labor tonight, around nine. Tova drove out to New York to be with her; I spoke to her about an hour ago. We have a new granddaughter!”

“Mazel Tov…” Yehuda said, but the words were flat.

“Thanks…”

“Did Hannah go with her?”

“What? Now that's an odd question, Yehuda.
Why would
Hannah
go with Tova to see my daughter and grandbaby?”

“I don’t know…” Yehuda rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath. “No; of course she wouldn’t have any reason to.” He took a minute to regroup. “Saul, did she… did Tova work at the mikvah tonight?” His voice was calmer, but strained.

“Yes, but then we got the call from Esti, so she left early. Like I just told you, Esti had her baby tonight.”

“The
mikvah
closed early then?”

“No, you know; they call a substitute… I think Tova called Estelle Ginsberg. What’s going on Yehuda? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“Saul, I need Estelle’s number. It’s an emergency.”

“Sure. No problem. Hold on a second.”

Yehuda looked at his watch.

12:39

“I’m back. Here it is…”

Yehuda scribbled the number on a blank page in the phone book. “Thanks.”

“Yehuda, tell me what's happening. You sound pretty upset.”

“I am. Hannah never came home tonight
…
Look,
Saul, I have to go… I have to call Estelle.”

“Yehuda, wait,”
Saul said quickly
.
“Keep me posted… I’ll be up for a while now anyway.”

“I will Saul. Listen, I’m sorry for waking you…”

Yehuda dialed Estelle’s number and listened to it ring and ring. A recording came on of an elderly woman speaking slowly. “
Hello, this is Estelle Ginsberg. I’m sorry I am not available to take your call at the moment…”

Yehuda hung up and hit the redial button.

Again the recording
.
“
Hello, this is Estelle Ginsberg. I’m sorry I am not available to take your call…”

He waited for the beep then blurted his message in as calm a voice as possible. “Estelle, it’s Yehuda Orenstein calling. I understand you may have worked at the
mikvah
this evening… it’s uh, Monday, October 24th… please forgive me if I am waking you, but my wife did not come home and, well, I’m trying to find her. Please call me as soon as possible… call any time tonight. Thank you.”

He hung up and scrolled down the recent calls list until he reached Lauren Donnelly, their babysitter's number. He hit the “dial” button and listened, expecting her to pick up any second.
“Hi, This is Lauren, leave a message!…”

What was going on tonight
? Yehuda didn’t understand. Lauren was a light sleeper. How could she sleep through a ringing phone?

Yehuda called Saul Katz back.

“Yehuda is that you?”

He got right to the point. “Estelle didn’t answer.”

“Oh…”

“Saul, I need a favor…”

“Anything.”

“Can you come over and stay with my kids? Lauren… my babysitter… didn’t answer… something’s not right. I have to find Hannah.”

After ten years working as a 911 operator, Marie Pierce was adept at evaluating the urgency of every call, the credibility of each caller. She had learned to trust her instincts, and her gut was telling her that something was not right with the rabbi’s wife. She hadn’t realized it until just now, but
something
was going on at the old high school. Not wasting another second, she picked up the phone and called police dispatch.

 Three

The local Jewish community was thriving. Hoards of families were moving to Arden Station, in most cases, giving up acreage and forgoing privacy for the benefit of living within walking distance of a synagogue, a requirement for the observant, as driving was prohibited on the Sabbath and other holidays. Enrollment in Jewish day schools was on the rise as well. The two local schools, which had for years struggled to stay afloat, were suddenly experiencing an influx of interest and financial support. The
mikvah
, a cornerstone of any Jewish community and considered to be of greater spiritual importance than the synagogue itself, had been recently replaced by a new, larger facility. Modern features and aesthetics were now available to the hundreds of local Jewish women who observed the family purity laws of their ancestors, as well as to those women who were discovering the beauty of the mikvah for the first time.

Rabbi Yehuda Orenstein was honored to play a small part in the larger shift taking place around the world. People were returning to and rediscovering their Jewish heritage. This trend was referred to as the
Bal Teshuva
movement. For the past five years, the rabbi had watched in utter amazement as interest in his Jewish learning center quadrupled. He liked to joke that people showed up to his classes for the food, specifically, the chocolate
bobka
his wife Hannah ordered from a well known Brooklyn bakery. But the truth was that the rabbi had earned a reputation as a knowledgeable and mesmerizing speaker. From members of the orthodox community to those with limited religious backgrounds, people were uplifted, moved, genuinely inspired by the relevance of his subject matter. One of his more popular talks addressed the common misconception that to embrace a Jewish lifestyle required relinquishing enjoyment of the physical world.

God wants us to be happy. He wants us to enjoy and embrace the pleasures of this magnificent world He created for us! There is nothing inherently wrong with having money, a beautiful home, material things, if these are the blessings that Hashem—God—in His infinite wisdom has bestowed on you. But the question we must ask is why? Why am I blessed in this particular way? Why me? We must consider:
how will I use my gifts? What should I do? What do you think the CREATOR would want you to do? This is your opportunity to make a “Kiddush Hashem”—a sanctification of God’s name. Each one of us has the opportunity to honor God through the physical. It is our nature to think about God when things go wrong. Why me? We get angry at God. We DEMAND an explanation from him as if we are entitled to a seamless existence. We’re not. Be it poor health, loss of a job, or, God forbid, an untimely death…we shout to the heavens, WHY GOD, WHY? God encourages our questions. He wants us to think, to challenge him. But most importantly he wants a relationship with us. We must not forget to pose those same two words: “why me?” when life is GRAND! When things are working out just right for us. When life is sweet! Talk to him, acknowledge your father in heaven when life is good! Recognize that He is entrusting you with good health, material wealth, extraordinary wisdom, unique talents… whatever they happen to be… they are His gifts to you. Three steps: thank Him… ask why… and infuse them with Godliness!

Sadly, Yehuda recognized a spiritual void in most people. The preoccupation with
acquiring
—newer, bigger, better—he knew was just a flawed attempt to fill a nagging feeling that “something was missing.” His goal was to show them that it was
God
they needed, and that religion and the physical world were not mutually exclusive. Yehuda realized that people weren’t so quick to overhaul their lifestyles, and he wouldn’t ask them to. What he
would
do was plant some seeds, nurture them with Torah and watch them grow.

And now, average class attendance had grown from a single digit to an impressive forty students. People of all ages and backgrounds flocked to the center. Yehuda was welcoming singles, young couples, families, empty nesters, all seeking a greater understanding of their religion. The older ones sometimes came at the urging of a son or daughter who had been making changes in their own life. Somehow they all managed to cram themselves, with surprisingly few complaints, into the small, five hundred square foot renovated flower shop that housed the Arden Station Jewish Learning Center since its inception eight years ago. Back then it was more than enough space, but with the rabbi’s increasing popularity, they were quickly outgrowing it.

As an orthodox Jew, Rabbi Orenstein believed with total conviction that the Jewish Bible—the
Torah—
was the direct word of God. Throughout history, neither a single word, nor a single
letter
of the Torah was deleted, added or altered in any way. Torah scribes were meticulous with their craft, often taking years to finish one handwritten scroll. The
Torah
was God’s gift to his people. By accepting this gift, the Jewish people had entered into an unbreakable covenant with Him. Translated, the Hebrew word “Torah” meant instructions.
Instructions for living
. If we were committed to building a meaningful life and reaching our highest potential, God was providing the blueprints. Mystical elements could be found in the Torah as well. Time was stacked, patterns were cyclical, behaviors repeated. There were hidden lessons to be learned; timeless truths to be grasped, embraced, and applied to our daily lives. But the common belief in more modern sects of Judaism was that the Torah at best was ‘inspired” by God. Some held that God didn’t have much, if anything at all, to do with the stories authored in the Torah. Ultimately, removing God from the picture allowed for a looser interpretation and application of its laws. Re-constructionist, reform and conservative Jews as a rule were more assimilated in secular society.

No matter what their differences with regard to its
authorship
, there was a general consensus among Jews that Moses had received the Torah at Mount Sinai following the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt. Each year, Jews around the world celebrated Passover,
Pesach
to commemorate that period of history when God freed their ancestors after two hundred years of slavery. For eight days, it was forbidden for a Jew to own or consume
hamatz—
bread or any product containing a leavening agent. The
Matzah
that was eaten instead resembled the flat bread eaten by the Israelites who, in their haste to depart, had no time for their bread to rise. Flat bread represented humility and trust in God. For the first two nights of
Pesach,
a special
seder
dinner was served, and the story of the
Exodus
told. Generations came together and read from the
Hagadah
. It was tradition for the youngest child at the table to recite the
four questions
asking,
why is this night different from all other nights?
On this night they would learn, perhaps for the first time, that “…this is what your Lord did for you… you were once a slave and now you are free.” Holding the children’s attention during the
seder
required a bit of ingenuity. The
Pesach
meal lasted hours, often extending into the wee hours of the next morning. Parents were encouraged to engage their children by relaying the historical facts of the exodus in the most vibrant, exciting and creative way possible. This was often achieved by emphasizing the ten plagues inflicted upon the Egyptians: blood, vermin, lice, beasts, boils, frogs, cattle disease, darkness, and finally the killing of the firstborn. It was not unusual to see plastic frogs springing across the table or to be poked by small fingers, wagging fabric puppets of lice or vermin. Sometimes the men and boys wore themed head coverings;
yarmulkes
of blood and darkness and death.