A Hole In One Paul Weininger (list of ebook readers .TXT) 📖

Frank replied, “When Bloom returned from his backyard and was about to enter his front door, he heard me say hello to him, turned toward my voice and saw us. He just didn’t quite look like himself, nor was his hand wave to us the same as it always is.”

With a suspicious frown, Pratt asked “What do you mean his wave wasn’t the same as it always is, and that he didn’t quite look like himself?”

Frank Weissman thought carefully for a moment before attempting to answer those questions. “First, in all the years we’ve lived next to him, the Rabbi always raised his arm above his head when he waved at us, kind of enthusiastically, like he was glad to see us. This time his hand was about chest high and he waved rather weakly; it just wasn’t the same wave as we’re used to.”

“Secondly, he didn’t quite look like himself because his posture was quite different. He was more crouched over at the waist than I’ve ever seen him before. He looked more like someone who normally does heavy lifting and his posture was due to painful back muscles or something. But he wasn’t carrying anything heavy any longer.”

“Well, if the Torahs were that heavy, especially since he had to lift them to place them on a tarp and roll them up, it might account for his sore back that day. Is that all you can tell me about that incident?” inquired Pratt.

“Well, I did see something else that terrified me.”

“What was that Mr. Weissman?”

“I noticed something that looked like a skull protruding from the ashes. I wasn’t able to tell if it was human or not, but it scared the shit out of me just seeing it.”

“Is that all you can remember right now?”

“Yes, Detective, that’s all I can remember, I guess the Rabbi was just not feeling himself.”

“Mrs. Weissman, what about you? You saw all this too. Did you notice anything unusual about that day or the Rabbi?”

“Well,” Colleen replied, “I saw the ashes and the skull protruding from them but thought it belonged to an animal. I didn’t get close enough to the ashes to know for sure what it was. I didn’t really pay attention to his wave, but I did notice he was slightly bent over when he returned from the backyard, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”

Pratt, pleased with their answers, thanked them both for their cooperation and left. Their testimony in court would be indispensable.

Sommerville went back to the Rabbi’s yard and began looking for a rake to take the pile of ashen material apart; finally having to ask a neighbor to borrow one. Pratt used his gloved hands to push away the ashes from the pile, while Jason used the borrowed rake.

They discovered a human skull and a partial jaw with four teeth still intact sticking out at the top of the ashes. At the bottom of the heap of ashes was what looked like to be small pieces of blue tarp, tiny fragments of red plastic, probably from a gas can, and a few more pieces of charred bone. The rest of the body was unidentifiable, unless forensics could somehow obtain DNA from the ashes. There was a bullet hole in the forehead of the skull. The scene burned an indelible image into the detectives’ minds. This was all the proof they needed to declare it a murder.

Sommerville radioed the police dispatcher. “Send over two black and whites, a coroner, and a forensics team ASAP to the Rabbi’s home.”

Within three minutes two squad cars arrived with four officers. One officer approached Pratt and asked, “What’s up, Detective?”

“A dead body,” he replied.

A few minutes later the coroner arrived, and within another half-hour, two forensics techs showed up. Sommerville warned the four officers, “Go out back and look at that heap of ashes. If you have to heave, do so far away from the evidence. I want you to search every inch of the property for bullets and their casings. Then search for footprints. If you find anything at all, call me or see Detective Pratt. He’s the guy standing out on the front lawn.”

The officers went to the back expecting a body but not what they saw. They looked down with a stricken expression at the gruesome remains. Two of them needed to hurl but controlled it until they could move away from the body parts.

The coroner approached Pratt, whom he knew from Sedona, and asked, “Where’s the body?”

“In the backyard, but I don’t think you’ll need a body bag. The way it looks to me, a medium-sized kitchen trash bag should do,” Pratt answered icily. A terrible wretched feeling ravaged his body at the thought of what he had seen in the past hour.

Using yellow police tape, the four officers cordoned off the property completely, including the side yards, the open front door into the house, and the rest of the three-plus acres of the yard. Detective Sommerville declared the entire area around the house a crime scene.

The detectives agreed to call District Attorney Stanford in Sedona to come and meet them at Jason’s police station. District Attorney Helen Stanford drove directly from her home in Sedona and showed up at Jason’s office in Flagstaff fifteen minutes after Pratt.

“Good morning, Madam D.A.,” said Detective Jason Sommerville as she walked towards his desk.

“Good to see you, Helen,” said Pratt as he sat nearby.

“Good morning, Gentlemen. I hear we have a body discovered in the Rabbi’s backyard,” D.A. Stanford replied.

“That’s correct, and both of us believe it’s going to be an easy one for you. We figure it’s an open and shut case.”

“So, you’re also the jury and get to declare somebody guilty already? Is that what I’m hearing you say?”

“Well, not exactly, but how much more evidence do you need?” asked Jason.

Helen replied, “That remains to be ascertained, Detective Sommerville, and that’s one reason I’m here, to further investigate. But first fill me