"And you propose to use this method on our present problem?"
"Why not? Let's examine the weight of probabilities in your theory and see if it stands up."
"All right, go ahead."
The rabbi got up from his chair and began to stride about the room. "We will start not with the body, but with the handbag."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
Lanigan shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, you're the teacher."
"Actually, the handbag is a more fertile field of investigation if only because it touches on three people. The body lying behind the wall concerns only two people: the girl and her murderer. The handbag involves those two and me, because it was in my car that the handbag was found."
"Good enough."
"Now, what are the possibilities by which the handbag could have been left where it was found? It could have been left by the girl or by the man who killed her, or by a third party, unkown, unsuspected, and until now unconsidered."
"You got something new up your sleeve, rabbi?" asked Lanigan suspiciously.
"No, I'm merely considering all the possibilities."
There was a knock on the study door and Miriam came in with a tray.
"I thought you'd like some coffee," she said.
"Thank you," said Lanigan. "Aren't you going to join us?" he said when he noticed there were only two cups on the tray.
"May I?"
"Certainly. There's nothing very confidential about this. The rabbi is just giving me my first lesson in the Talmud."
When she returned with a coffee cup, he said, "All right, rabbi, we've listed all the people who could have left the handbag. Where does that take us?"
"Of course the first question that comes to mind is why she had the bag with her at all. I suppose it's automatic with some women."
"A lot of women attach their house key to the inside of the bag by a chain," suggested Mrs. Small.
Lanigan nodded to her. "Good guess. That's how she had her key, attached by a short chain to the ring that's the zipper-pull for an inside pocket."
"So she took the bag rather than go to the trouble of detaching the key," the rabbi went on. "Now let's consider one by one the people who could possibly have left it in my car. First, to clear him out of the way, the third party, the unsuspected stranger. He would be someone who happened to be walking along and saw the bag, presumably because it was lying on the ground somewhere near the car. He would certainly open it, if only to find out if there was any identification so he could return it to its proper owner. But, more likely, he would open it out of common curiosity. If he were dishonest, he would have taken whatever of value it contained. But he did not do this."
"How do you know that, rabbi?" asked Lanigan, suddenly alert.
"Because you said you found a heavy gold wedding ring. If the man were dishonest, he would have taken it. That he did not, suggests to me that any other thing of value-money, for instance-was left undisturbed."
"There was some money in the purse," Lanigan admitted. "About what you'd expect, a couple of bills and some loose change."
"Very good. So we can assume it is not the case of someone finding the purse, taking out whatever was of value, and then tossing away the bag itself, now valueless, so that it would not be found on him."
"All right, where does that get you?"
"It merely clears the ground. Now suppose he were honest and wanted only to return it to its rightful owner, and he put it in my car because he had found it nearby and assumed it belonged there, or because he thought the driver, finding it in his car, would take the trouble to return it to the rightful party. If that were his sole connection with the bag, why did he put it on the floor in back instead of on the front seat, where the driver would be sure to find it? I could have driven around for days without seeing it."
"All right, so a hitherto unsuspected stranger did not leave the bag in the car, neither an honest one nor a dishonest one. I never said one did."
"So we'll go on to the next. We'll take the girl."
"The girl is out. She was dead at the time."
"How can you be so sure? It would seem that the most likely explanation for the handbag is that the girl herself left it in the car."
"Look here, it was a warm night and you must have had the window of your study open. Right?"
"Yes. The window was up, but the Venetian blinds were down."
"How far do you think you were from your car? I'll tell you. The car was twenty feet away from the building. Your study is on the second floor, say eleven feet above ground level. Add another four feet to give you the height of the windowsill. Now if you remember your high-school geometry, the line from the car to you is the hypotenuse of a right triangle. And if you work it out, you'll find that the sill was about twenty-five feet away from the car. Add ten feet to give you your position at your desk. That means you were thirty-five feet from the car. And if someone had got into that car, let alone quarreled and got murdered in it, you'd have heard it no matter how engrossed you were in your studies."
"But it could have happened after I left the temple," the rabbi objected.
Lanigan shook his head. "Not too easily. You said you left sometime after twelve. You figured out it was about twenty past. But Patrolman Norman was walking up Maple Street towards the temple, and about that time or very shortly thereafter he was within sight of the temple. The parking lot was under his observation from that time up to three minutes past one when he pulled the box on the corner. Then he headed down Vine Street, which is the street the Serafinos live on and was therefore the street the girl must have come down."
"All right, then after that?" suggested the rabbi.
Lanigan shook his head again. "Nothing doing. The medical examiner first reported that the girl was killed around one o'clock, with a twenty-minute leeway either side. But that was on the basis of body temperature, rigidity, and so forth. When we questioned Bronstein we discovered they'd eaten after the movie, and that enabled the M.E. to make a determination of the time on the basis of stomach content, which is a good deal more accurate. He gave us a supplementary report that fixes one o'clock at the outside."