Wounds by Alton Gansky Page A

almost always walk. It isn’t far. Just a few blocks.”
    â€œGo on.”
    Carmen took notes in a small pad. It was old school, but still the easiest way to record comments and observations.
    â€œIt was about six. My wife and children were still in bed. I went out the front door and locked it behind me. I was, maybe, three steps from the front stoop when I saw . . .” He directed his gaze to the table. “When I saw the body. It was . . .” His face went white, and for a moment Carmen thought the rabbi would take a header onto the wood flooring of the dining room.
    â€œTake your time, Rabbi.” Bud leaned back, and as was often the case in interviews, the subject leaned back too. “I know it had to be quite a shock.”
    â€œShock? The word doesn’t begin to cover it. I almost fainted. I don’t think I’ve ever fainted, but that—that just about did the job.”
    â€œThen what did you do? Did you go to the body?”
    He shook his head. “Should I have done that? I mean, he looked dead to me. Really dead. I’ve seen lots of dead bodies, but nothing like that.”
    â€œWait a minute.” Bud held up a hand. “You’ve seen a lot of dead bodies? You were in the military?”
    â€œNo, I meant—” Singer inhaled deeply, slowly. “It is Jewish custom that family or someone from the synagogue sit with a body until it is buried. It is a sign of respect. I am a rabbi, the son of a rabbi who was the son of a rabbi. I have sat with many corpses.”
    â€œI see,” Bud said. Carmen wasn’t sure she did. Bud pressed on. “You told me earlier that neither you nor your wife heard anything during the night?”
    â€œNothing, Detective.”
    â€œWhat time did you go to bed?”
    Singer thought for a moment. “The children were in bed by 8:30. We retire early. Usually by ten.”
    â€œThat was true for last night?”
    â€œYes. I read for about half an hour after that, then went to sleep. I heard nothing. I asked the children if they heard anything last night. They said no. Was he killed in our yard?”
    Bud shrugged. “Too early to say, Rabbi. The forensic team is just getting started. Still, I doubt it. He was beaten so badly that you would have heard the struggle, unless you had the television turned up.”
    Singer blanched. “We didn’t watch television last night. We don’t watch it much. News mostly. Never developed the addiction.”
    That was an odd phrase.
    â€œHow long . . . I mean . . . before the body is moved?”
    â€œIt will be a little while, Rabbi. Sorry. We can’t move the body until we have the whole scene photographed, searched, and documented.”
    â€œI was hoping to get the family out for a while. You know, put some distance between them and”—he motioned to the front yard—“that.”
    â€œI understand.” Bud shifted in his chair. “Is there a back door? Another way to the street?”
    â€œNo. There’s a fence all the way around the property.”
    â€œI see. Well, we will be as fast as we can, but it will take some time before we can release the scene. I wish we could do more.”
    â€œYou’ve been very kind, Detective. Please let me know once the coroner arrives.”
    â€œMedical examiner,” Bud corrected. “Of course. I have a few more questions, sir. Have you or the people at your synagogue experienced hate crimes of late?”
    Again, Singer shook his head. “No, the neighborhood is very respectable. Oh sure, occasionally we hear a slur or there will be a bit of graffiti, but nothing serious. Why do you ask?”
    Before Bud could answer, a light went on in the rabbi’s mind. Carmen could almost see his eyes glowing.
    â€œWait. Are you saying . . . the victim is a Jew?” His blinking increased and his jaw went slack.
    â€œWe found identification on the victim. Do you know