Chapter 2

                                    

                                              
Copyright (c) 2015 Phyllis Zimbler Miller
                          
All rights reserved.
                          
     Rebecca shook her head at Josh rather than answering him.  Then she scanned the faces of the seven others who had walked from synagogue with Josh.  Apparently during the socializing following services he had figured out Helene's other guests and rounded them up to all walk together.

                          
     	Sam Lewis, Josephine and Lawrence Hampton, Pamela Tannenbaum, Dorothy Fine, Richard Mandel, Henry Brach.  A congenial group, everyone including Rebecca and Josh in their 30s.
                          
       	Lunch would have been 10, a minyan.  Now they were one short.  

                          
     	Before she could explain anything, the Beverly Hills official who had introduced himself as Detective Connell waved at her to join him.  He had already asked her to come to the Beverly Hills police station to make a statement, and she had told him she didn't ride in cars on a Jewish holiday.  He had then agreed to take her statement here.
                          
       	She turned back to the other guests and said, "I found Helene's body in the sukkah when I arrived, and I called 911."  While she said this, she watched the reactions of the others.  Did any of these people know about Helene before they arrived?
                          
     A uniformed police officer took the names and contact info of the other eight guests while Rebecca spoke to Connell.
                          
     She repeated to him what she had told the paramedics when they arrived.  She had found Helene on the cot, had touched her only to check for a pulse, and had then gone next door to borrow a phone.  And, no, she had seen nothing out of the ordinary.
                          
     Connell took down her contact info and told her she could go for now.
                          
     As she walked the few steps to join the others, Rebecca realized that this was probably a murder scene.  Even if it had at first sight looked like a suicide, Helene would not have killed herself on purpose – or accidentally.  Those actions did not fit the modus operandi of Helene, as she would undoubtedly argue in court if she were alive and representing a legal case.
                          
     When Rebecca reached the group, Josh slung his arm around her shoulders.  "I'm sorry I snapped at you." He flashed his little boy look of contrition that always melted her anger.  "I was worried about you."
                          
     Then Josh turned to the others.  "Where are we going to have lunch?  I'm starved."
                          
     "Didn't you have cholent at shul?" Rebecca said.  "And how can you think about food now?"
                          
     "Look, Rebecca, not eating is not going to undo Helene's death, and it is still a holiday."
                          
     "Hold it right there," Josephine Hampton cut in, swishing black bangs out of her eyes.  "I'm not going to listen to the two of you go at it.  Why not walk over to our sukkah?   I'll ask Maria to whip up a huge tuna salad and we can at least all eat together."
                          
     As everyone started to follow Josephine, Rebecca saw Richard Mandel, a therapist with an affluent Westside clientele, hang back.
                          
     "Wait a moment," he said, causing everyone to stop walking.  "Maybe we should all go back home.  This doesn't seem like the right time to share a meal.  Henry, what do you think?"
                          
     Henry Brach, their synagogue's rabbinic intern, nodded.  "I see your point, Henry.  But as this is a holiday, and we would simply be having lunch in the sukkah, I think it is appropriate.  Perhaps we can share stories about Helene as others may do at her funeral and at the shiva minyans."