The Six Messiahs - Mark Frost [43]
"There's more," said Doyle. "One Sabbath morning, when Jews make their religious observances and must stop all manual labor until sunset, Rabbi Low forgot to remove the slip of paper from the golem's mouth."
"Uh-oh," said Pinkus. "I smell trouble."
"You would be right, Mr. Pinkus. With Rabbi Low's control over the golem lost, the monster went on a terrible rampage. Block after block of shops and houses broken and ruined; many innocent people killed, most of them Jews, crushed and trampled by its mindless fury. Nothing could stop the golem until Rabbi Low finally tracked it down and removed the paper, saving the rest of the ghetto from certain destruction."
The others were silent, hanging on every word.
"The myth of the golem has always seemed to me to be a perfect metaphor for the apocalyptic power of unchecked human rage, as well as a wonderful parable about the life-affirming compassion of the Judaic tradition," said Doyle.
Innes and Pinkus glanced sideways at each other like mystified schoolboys, both drawing a total blank.
"Well, jeez," said Pinkus.
"So what happened to the golem?" asked Innes.
"The body of the golem was carried by Low and his friends to the cellar of the Great Synagogue of Prague, where it supposedly lies buried to this day, waiting for its life to be restored."
Struggling to keep his balance as the battered ship took a particularly nasty twist, Doyle took out another piece of paper. "Gentlemen, I have here the ship's copy of the agent's manifest for those five coffins in the hold. Would you like to hazard a guess as to their port of origin?"
"Not Prague," said Innes.
"Exactly," said Doyle.
"You gotta be joshin' me," said Pinkus.
"Please, Mr. Doyle. You're not seriously suggesting that the golem of the ghetto of Prague was in one of those boxes," said Stern.
"Or that an eight-foot-tall clay monster is still roaming around somewhere on board the ship," said Innes.
"I suggest this," said Doyle. "If you're trying to obtain something from a man on board a ship in the middle of the ocean and you wish to attract no undue attention to yourself—''
"Eight-foot-tall clay monsters are a choice idea," said Pinkus smartly.
"—and you're aware that the man from whom you wish to obtain this object has a history of heart trouble and that he's aware of a legend about an eight-foot-tall clay monster that may be connected to the object you're attempting to steal and that you need to kill this man in order to get it but circumstances demand that his death not appear to be an obvious murder..."
"You scare him to death," said Innes, the pieces falling into place.
"Smuggle four men and one coffin full of clay covering an armature of some kind on board. Label the coffins as coming originally from Prague, to support the superstition. Remember: The passenger who heard the 'ghost' shriek also saw a large gray figure roaming in the hold and these second-class cabins are only two flights of stairs away; when the knock came at Mr. Selig's door last night and he opened it as far as the chain would allow ... I believe it was the sight of this 'golem'— being held by these two men—standing outside that precipitated his fatal heart attack."
"How about that?" said Pinkus.
"If that was the case, then what prevented them from going right in and stealing the book?" asked Stern. "The chain wasn't even broken."
"Our sudden arrival interrupted them," said Doyle. "And what's the harm? They waited for another opportunity: Who was going to suspect he died of anything other than what it appeared to be?
"Except that Mr. Selig bravely marshaled his resources in the last moments of his life: Grabbing a handful of the clay from the monster—some still remained under his fingernails— he used it to trace an outline on the wall of this tattoo he had seen on one of his assailant's forearms."
"How 'bout that?" said Pinkus, falling back again on what he always said whenever he had nothing to say.
"I guess it all makes a kind of sense, except how could they know Rupert