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Jake invited Rabbi Miklin to dinner Monday at the Skokie Shalomski’s on Dempster for an update.
Jake arrived first, and was escorted to his regular table at the back of the kosher-polish cuisine establishment facing front to take in all the goings-on.
An unfamiliar, young, chipper waitress bearing a Naomi name tag arrived to take his drink order.
“Do you want your usual drink?” she asked.
“Yes please,” Jake responded reflexively with a smile, then wondered how she knew what his usual was.
He checked the time on his phone noting it was still early.
He heard clanking pots, and a woman barking orders Yiddish from the kitchen behind him.
A bit later Naomi delivered his chilled compote. She fished a straw from her apron, and handed it to Jake. “Enjoy!” she said.
Jake peeled back the top of the straw’s paper cover, then carefully slid it off in one piece. He ran his pinched thumb and forefinger from the bottom to the top to flatten it, rolled it up neatly, and placed it beside the compote. He plunged the straw deep into the sugary, dried-fruit refreshment, and began his ritual of slowly nursing it.
A few minutes later he spotted the rabbi at the door, and waved him over to his table.
“I’m eager to hear your report,” Rabbi Miklin said while sliding into the burgundy, leather bench seat across from Jake.
“Let’s order first, then I’ll fill you in,” Jake said.
While they perused the menu Jake felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned to see Marvin Fox’s warm smile. Marvin founded the Shalomski chain, and became good friends with Jake after he solved an old case involving Marvin’s family.
Marvin nodded a greeting to Rabbi Miklin, then asked Jake, “So, what did you think?”
“About what?” Jake asked.
“Naomi, your waitress. She’s new. Today’s her first day,” Marvin explained.
“Really? She seemed like she’d been working here for a while. She even knew my usual drink order,” Jake said.
“A little trick,” Marvin admitted. “I purposely sent her to your table, and told her you usually order compote. She’s my oldest granddaughter. I’m taking more of a back seat these days, letting my kids and grandkids slowly take the reins managing the business. I spend most of my time popping in to each location to check in, and greet the regulars.”
“Good for you Marvin,” Jake said. “You’ve done an amazing job building the business. It’s great that you have this to hand down to your kids.”
Jake was genuinely happy for Marvin but felt the deep hole in his heart, having lost his only child.
After Marvin excused himself to make his rounds, Rabbi Miklin said, “Nu? What’ve you found out?”
Jake recounted how he found Dr. Eisenstein’s glasses at Muttle’s. “He’s certain it’s his own daughter in the picture, and that it was taken at the mikvah, most likely from the ceiling.”
“This is terrible,” the rabbi said while massaging his forehead with his fingers. “Don’t get me wrong—it’s good that you’ve made progress. But if word of this gets out the consequences could be devastating to the community. The women will be afraid to go to the mikvah.”
Jake knew that couples were forbidden to sleep together or even touch each other during and after the woman’s menstruation until her flow stopped, and she spiritually cleansed herself by immersing in the mikvah’s pool of rainwater.
“I don’t think there’s anything to worry about now that Muttle’s dead. He won’t be doing any of that anymore.”
“Muttle? You really think—. I just don’t see it,” the rabbi said while slowly stroking his beard.
“I barely knew him, but I agree,” Jake admitted. “But only he and Rose had access to the attic. He probably started peeping on them for his own pleasure, then got the idea to make it profitable.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Rabbi Miklin reluctantly agreed.
Suddenly the rabbi gasped, “You don’t think Dr. Eisenstein had anything to do with Muttle’s death, do you?”