Spring Break by Gerald Elias

Author:Gerald Elias [Gerald Elias]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2017-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

Wednesday, April 1

The wake-up call came at seven, but without Chase Anderson to help Jacobus into his wheelchair. Jacobus tried again to put weight on his ankle, but the pain was still severe and, in any event, he wasn’t sure where the hell the wheelchair was. He was not inclined to explore. Instead, he sat in his boxer shorts at the side of the bed and fumed.

Finally, there was a knock on the door, which, by agreement, Jacobus had left unlocked.

‘Where the hell you been?’

‘April Fools?’ Anderson replied sheepishly.

‘What time is it?’

‘Quarter of eight, I think,’ Anderson said. ‘Sorry I’m late, but I got something for you.’

‘Would it be a broken alarm clock?’

‘Better, a folding wheelchair! I “borrowed” it from the hospital. We can go anywhere now.’

Jacobus thought about complimenting Anderson on his resourcefulness but wasn’t in the mood yet.

‘I also brought someone who might help with our investigation,’ Anderson continued.

‘Our. Investigation!’ Jacobus said. ‘For your information, there is no “investigation” and there is no “our.” Got that? Who did you bring? I don’t hear anybody with you.’

‘Moshe Schneidermann. He was my professor for a medical ethics course I had to take last semester.’

‘Medical ethics? What is it, a five-minute class?’

‘No, it was really interesting. Professor Schneidermann is old, but he’s really smart.’

‘That’s comforting. And how exactly do you suppose this Professor Schneidermann is going to help “our investigation”?’

‘I think he might be able to help us get the coroner’s report. He, like, knows everybody.’

Jacobus shrugged. Like the Jewish widow who spooned chicken soup into her deceased husband’s mouth said, ‘It vouldn’t hoit.’

Anderson helped Jacobus wash up and dress and wheeled him into the lobby only slightly behind schedule.

‘He’s over there,’ Anderson whispered.

‘Thanks for pointing him out,’ Jacobus replied. ‘What would I do without you?’

Anderson brought the wheelchair to a stop.

‘Mr Jacobus, I presume?’ The voice was a little older and a lot more Jewish than his own.

‘Schneidermann?’ Jacobus asked.

‘The same.’

‘My young lackey here tells me you might be able to help us.’

‘Maybe it would be possible. Maybe it would not.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘Just what it sounds like. The ethical considerations are complex.’

Anderson interrupted.

‘I’ll just call Mr Lilburn at Chops and tell him we’ll be a little late.’

‘You do that.’

After he left, Schneidermann said, ‘A bright young man. I think we got along because we understood each other’s persecution.’

‘I’m not that hard on him,’ Jacobus said.

Schneidermann laughed.

‘Not that. Slavery. He understands what we, as Jews, have gone through for the past millennia, and I understand what his race has had to endure in this country.’

‘What do you mean, “his race”?’ Jacobus asked.

‘He’s Negro. Didn’t you realize?’

He hadn’t, having assumed from the name Chase Anderson that he was as lily white as Pat Boone. And unlike Alonzo Sumter’s voice, Chase’s sounded absolutely typical of rural New York. Jacobus brushed aside his oversight, but it provided a caution that jumping to conclusions based upon partial information could lead him down the wrong path.

‘No matter. You said medical ethics are complex,’ Jacobus said.

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