The Kiddush Murder

By Gail F. Nalven

A far-flung family gathers for a bat mitzvah at a large suburban synagogue, and everything goes beautifully--until the grandmother from New York suddenly dies. And Cantor Shoshana Goldberg finds herself in the middle of a mystery--and a mess. She goes back to Manhattan--the Old Country--to do the funeral, and nearly becomes collateral damage in a small-business crime war. Meanwhile other clouds are gathering back at the shul. Find out what happens in the first Cantor Shoshana Goldberg Mystery, The Kiddush Murder! You don't have to be Jewish to love it!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gail F. Nalven
• Release date: Jul 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476130422

Gail F. Nalven

Gail F. Nalven is a Jewish educator and an alumna of JTS, just like Cantor Shoshana Goldberg. She has directed and taught in Hebrew schools across the denominations, and is the author of the blog Adventures in Tefillah (http://[e-mail]). She lives in New York City. Patricia S. Rudden is Professor of English at New York City College of Technology, CUNY. She has worked as a lay cantor in various settings for nearly two decades. She is an alumna of Hunter College, like the late Myra Bloom and Cantor Goldberg’s mother, and wishes she could grow up to be Cantor Goldberg. She too lives in New York City.

Book preview

The Kiddush Murder

A Cantor Shoshana Goldberg Mystery

by

Gail F. Nalven and Patricia S. Rudden

Copyright 2012 Gail F. Nalven and Patricia S. Rudden

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Chapter 1

Okay, now, said Dr. Nelson Dembitz, president of Congregation Rodeph Emet and chair of the Ritual Committee. They were running late on this cold Thursday night, and he had just brought them through a long agenda. He was hoping to make quick work of this last item. "This brings us at last to the bat mitzvah of Zahava Bloom. The only reason this has come before us is because the girl has expressed the intention of doing the full k’ria, am I right, Cantor?"

Dr. Dembitz turned his face toward Cantor Shoshana Goldberg, who was preparing Zahava for her big day. That’s right, the cantor answered. I have every confidence that she will do extremely well.

Yes, but that’s not the issue, said Aaron Stein, a relatively new member of the committee. Nelson Dembitz had not been ready for the opposition to rear its ugly head quite this early, but considering the hour, he was almost glad that Stein chose to speak up when he did.

What’s the issue, Aaron? said the chair.

"Is it not the case that no bar or bat mitzvah has read the full k’ria in this shul for decades?" Stein asked. A real estate lawyer by trade, he spent most of his time doing closings. He affected a courtroom manner in other settings just to keep from losing his touch.

I’m not aware of precisely how long it’s been, Nelson Dembitz countered. "I don’t think I’ve been at any where at least a few of the aliyot haven’t been read by friends or relatives. He turned to the rabbi and said, You’d know better than I, Rabbi."

Rabbi Solomon Himmelfarb paused before answering. Then he said, I can’t remember one right off hand. There may have been a few boys from day schools, but that would have been a number of years ago. Certainly no one in the last ten years has read it all. But there’s no reason she shouldn’t, especially if the cantor believes she’s up to it.

She’s already got most of it, said the cantor. "We’re five months out and she’s already reading most of it from the left side of the tikkun. Zahava is a very bright girl and a very quick learner." Cantor Goldberg knew that she was staking her own credibility on Zahava.

The issue is, Aaron Stein interjected, not how bright or quick the girl is, but that this is a girl. With all due respect, Cantor, he said, glancing condescendingly at Cantor Goldberg, "the sudden rise of females to such prominence on the bimah is, I think, somewhat intimidating for the kahal--for the males, at least," he said, with a smarmy smile.

Well, if I may, said Rabbi Himmelfarb, my only problem with it is that it sets the bar so high that every child coming up may think he or she has to match the achievement. On the one hand, we should live so long to have such a problem! On the other hand, this could lead to some disastrous situations for people who are not as capable as Zahava Bloom. Some of the young people in our pipeline are not of the same calibre, am I right, Cantor?

Cantor Goldberg knew that the gender issue was not dead, but she was glad to be able to say for the moment, "We have a variety of strengths and weaknesses in all our upcoming b’nei mitzvah, and I challenge each to rise to his or her best. I coach them each according to his or her own abilities and gifts, and I hope I would never appear to hold Zahava’s achievements over anyone else’s head." She thought but did not speak about what problems could come from overly ambitious parents, but she and the educational director could deal with that when it arose. No reason for the Ritual Committee to go down that path now.

You’re all still missing the point, Aaron Stein said. "In this day and age, women are used to coming up to the level of men in our egalitarian shuls, but will the boys not feel put down a bit if one of the girls is the first to do the whole Torah reading as well as the Haftarah? I mean, after all, Cantor, you yourself are a case in point."

How so? asked Rabbi Himmelfarb, who had been through the mill with this committee when Cantor Goldberg was hired two years ago as their first female cantor.

It hasn’t been that long, Aaron Stein replied, "since women were permitted to take on the obligations of men, count in the minyan, serve as prayer leader. There could not be women cantors before then, and we’ve only had one for two years. A year and a half, really," he concluded.

Cantor Goldberg took his discussion of her as a point of personal privilege and spoke up. "I’m sure you all went through the classic arguments about kavod ha-tzibbur--honor of the community--before I was hired, she began, so I needn’t remind you that making sure that the men of the community do not feel dishonored made sense in former times. But now women are full citizens, educated, many of us professionals in various fields, and this allows for reconsideration of socially determined restrictions in religious life as well. This brings men no dishonor. In fact, if male security has to come at the expense of female non-participation, it may be time for the boys to find more reliable sources of emotional security. In fact, she added, there are three boys coming up before Zahava. It might be possible for one of them to do it all, although I would hate to create a competitive atmosphere or put an additional burden on them when they’re already working so hard. She knew she was pushing it, so she eased back a bit by saying I’ll always encourage both boys and girls to do all they can," smiling a professional smile that she did not feel. She wondered if Aaron Stein remembered that she was a lawyer too before she became a cantor. Silently she wondered if Stein’s son, one of the three, could learn another six aliyot in time to beat Zahava to the finish line, knowing that this was the real basis of his objection.

I still think a boy should be first, Aaron Stein said weakly, and then added, "I move that we recommend to the Rabbi that the aliyot at Zahava Bloom’s bat mitzvah be distributed among several readers so she will not have the burden of doing the whole thing."

Is there a second? said Dr. Dembitz.

Second, said Dr. Sam Weinbaum, a quiet dentist at the end of the table. I don’t necessarily support the motion, but I believe Aaron has the right to a vote. Due process, he concluded.

Further discussion? said Dr. Dembitz.

A hand ascended. Yes, said Dr. Jodi Schwartz, a relatively new member of the community who was a professor of Judaic Studies at one of the local colleges, as well as a choir member.

Jodi?

First of all, the professor began, "I feel as if I’m watching a rerun of a Donna Reed show. The egalitarian option that this congregation embraced years ago is the way it is. Who among us would keep our daughters from going to college and only send our sons? Who would keep a daughter out of medical school until all the sons got through? And secondly, Aaron, isn’t your son one of the ones who precedes Zahava on the calendar? How much of the k’ria is he reading?"

Look, said Dr. Dembitz, this committee only recommends. The rabbi decides.

Rabbi Himmelfarb had sat through the last few exchanges with no change of expression.

So? So what if my son is not able to do this on such short notice? Aaron said, visibly flustered.

"He’s doing one beautiful reading, and his Haftarah will also be beautiful, said the cantor. I don’t know about his speech--that’s the rabbi’s department--but I am looking forward to Mike’s bar mitzvah." Maybe it will get his father to stop this nonsense, she thought.

Do we even need to vote, really? said Dr. Dembitz. "I think it might be best, and in the interest of shalom bayit, to just withdraw this motion and let the rabbi decide."

Aaron Stein saw he would not win. All right, all right. I would like to withdraw my motion.

Nelson Dembitz smiled. Thank you, Aaron. That took a lot, and I appreciate it very much, as do we all, I’m sure. Motion to adjourn?

So move, said Professor Schwartz.

As the committee broke up and went off to their cars, Jodi Schwartz caught up with Cantor Goldberg. Do you believe that guy?

Cantor Goldberg tried to take the high road. He’s entitled to his totally mistaken opinions, she said with a smile.

Well, you handled him beautifully, I thought, said Jodi, but he’s still a shit. Good night!

Across the parking lot, closer to the door, Aaron Stein and Nelson Dembitz strolled to their cars. Thanks anyway, Nelson, said Aaron. I know you have to keep an even hand in these meetings. But that Jodi Schwartz sets my teeth on edge, and she shouldn’t be on that committee anyway. She’s married to a goy.

G’night, Aaron, said Dr. Dembitz.

~~~~

Chapter 2

Tenors, you’re late!

Cantor Shoshana Goldberg was rehearsing her choir for the erev Tisha b’Av service, for the evening preceding the fast day of the ninth of the month of Av on the Hebrew calendar. It would be another six weeks or so before they would sing it, but she wanted to make sure the group knew their music well before they would have to sing it for the congregation. This meant a two-hour rehearsal every two weeks, which was all she could manage to schedule during the summer if she expected a reasonable number of choir members to be around and show up.

Okay, stop, please. She waited for the last few voices to realize that silence had begun and that they should listen to what she was going to say. Tenors, you come in on the upbeat, not on the first beat of the next measure. Look at measure, um, twenty-four. Some social conversation started among the altos and sopranos, so she decided to make this a group activity. Everybody look with me, please. Measure 24. Pages turned in looseleaf binders, and some of the less musically literate members murmured their puzzlement. Bottom of the third page . . . yes, pay no attention to the numbers at the tops of the sheets because I photocopied it from a longer thing . . .just turn to the page we were on when I stopped you . . . the third side with music on it . . .yes. Everybody see it? This, Cantor Goldberg thought, is what people mean when they talk about everybody being on the same page. In her previous life as an attorney she had heard that expression often without fully realizing its significance. Tonight she was coming to a new appreciation of what it really meant. She brought both hands to her head and swept her fingers through her shoulder-length dark red curls, trying to reestablish her concentration.

Okay, now, look at the last note in the previous measure . . . yes, I know the sopranos are holding a B flat. Just look at the tenors. See? They start their tune there. In other words, guys, please don’t wait until the next bar to start. It’s bah-DUMP, not BUMP. Would you mark that somehow and look up during measure 23 so I can give you the signal to come in? Okay, let’s start from, um, ah, let’s take it from the top.

This choir was a volunteer, low-budget operation. All comers could participate, as long as they came regularly to rehearsals, and this meant she was dealing with quite a range of ability and experience. Not to mention that they ranged in age from thirty-something to somewhere north of eighty. On any given Thursday night, she had anywhere from seven dedicated core members to the full complement of eighteen. She took the fact that the full number of choir members, eighteen, was the number for chai, life, as a good sign.

She was also playing her own piano accompaniment, on a piano that badly needed a tuner’s attention. But since everything they were singing would be a capella, because Tisha b’Av was a solemn occasion and not a time to use instruments, she used it sparingly for these numbers. And one, two . . . and they were off, less raggedly than before, and three out of four tenors did in fact make their entrance on the upbeat. Not exactly a divine revelation, she thought, but rewarding all the same.

The choir tested every skill in teaching, conducting, basic keyboard accompaniment, and just plain diplomacy that she had learned in her five years of cantorial school. Back in those days she had had no way of anticipating the kind of challenge this would be. But she also had had no idea how fine it was to give dedicated Jews a way to make music part of their participation in the service, to give them a way to do more than just sing along in their seats, if they even did that much, and to give herself some backup as she sang her community’s prayers as its representative before God, its shelichat tzibbur. This choir, whatever else it was, was an extension of the hazzan, the cantor, and helped her fulfill the community’s obligation to pray. They worked hard and appreciated their role as her extra voices, and she cherished them for that.

She liked her choir members anyway. In the year since she was hired as Congregation Rodeph Emet’s first female cantor, she had grown to be friends with several choir members, as well as with other congregants. She had a cordial working relationship with the rabbi, although he hadn’t yet invited her for a Shabbat dinner, and she was making a decent living. Here in the Eastern Corridor it was not too difficult to find kosher food, and no one gave her grief about her observance level. It was not like what she had had to put up with at her first congregation, Ohev Shalom, where there had eventually been anything but shalom. But that was out in the sticks, and there had been some other circumstances that she was glad to be finished with. Here at Rodeph Emet, though, much to