Harry Lipkin, Private Eye by Barry Fantoni

Author:Barry Fantoni
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780385536110
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2012-07-10T07:00:00+00:00

· TWENTY ·

Harry Tracks Down an Old Friend

Rabbi Lionel Rifkin married my cousin Ira’s sister-in-law Pearl. Lionel often talked about the lost tribes of Israel. The Jews of Ethiopia were his speciality. If anyone knew about Ethiopian Jews in Miami it would be Rabbi Rifkin. The only problem was that we hadn’t seen each other since Pearl’s funeral. Five years ago. Or was it ten? He was ninety whenever it was.

The last place I knew for sure Rabbi Rifkin worked was the Beth Jacob. I dialed their number.

“My name is Ruby,” a warm and helpful sounding voice said. “May I ask who is calling?”

“You most certainly may, Ruby,” I replied. “My name is Harry Lipkin and I am trying to locate an old pal. Rabbi Lionel Rifkin. When I knew him he was working at the Beth Jacob. But that was some time ago. My guess is that he has possibly retired.”

There was a pause while Ruby thought about it.

“I’m going to make some inquiries,” Ruby said. “It might take a while. Miriam is out sick.”

“Sorry to hear it,” I said. “Who is Miriam?”

“Miriam is the person who would know about Rabbi Rifkin,” Ruby explained. “Julie won’t know any more than me.”

“Julie?”

“Taken over for Miriam while she’s sick. Would you please hold, Mr. Lipkin?”

“Happy to, Ruby,” I said.

While the phone played what sounded like a banjo band version of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons I killed time thinking about the Beth Jacob.

Meyer Lansky and his Murder Inc. mob went there in 1936. Local Jews called it the Gangster Schul. But Lansky wasn’t bad all through. When the Nazis held rallies in New York and other big cities, Lansky’s mob went and broke them up. They beat them with sticks and the hilts of pistols. Beat them till they bled. Lansky made those damn Nazis run.

When Ruby came back she had a number.

“Thank you for holding, Mr. Lipkin. Julie was no help. She had to ask Rabbi Cohen who then had to ask Rabbi Pressler who then asked Rabbi Greenhouse. Rabbi Greenhouse knew Rabbi Rifkin. Not well, but well enough to have a note of Rabbi Rifkin’s last known residence. I have it right here. Are you ready to take it down?”

“All ears.”

“Have you something to write with?”

“And to write on,” I said.

Ruby spelled it out and I made a note. It was a Tampa exchange.

I thanked Ruby for her trouble and hung up. Then I called the number.

I didn’t have to wait long before a recorded voice answered and gave me a choice of options and numbers to press. I pressed three. The concierge answered at once.

“You are through to the Heights Condominium. Mike speaking.”

“My name is Harry Lipkin,” I said. “I am trying to contact a rabbi called Rifkin. I have this as his residence.”

“It was,” Mike said. “Until six months ago. I am sorry to have to inform you that Rabbi Rifkin is currently hospitalized.”

The news shook me.

“Is it bad?” I asked.

“I have no record,” Mike replied. “But I can give you the name of the hospital and their contact details.

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