Page 14 of The Dreidl Disaster

“You should also expect an invitation from Jennifer Cohen. Jennifer’s the member of the sisterhood who brought the idea to the mayor and the team.”

He made another note. Jennifer Cohen wasn’t just a hockey parent; she was a member of the Briarwood Temple Sisterhood. Like the mayor, Jennifer Cohen was deeply intertwined with this town, and this was a glass ball he couldn’t drop.

*

After a visitto the library to look through information about older Briarwood cultural events, Artur discovered it was time for food. His destination of course was Levitan’s.

“One,” he told the person standing at the door before being directed to the bar/deli counter area. He sat down, took a breath and looked up into Paul Levitan’s eyes. He could see the stains on his apron, the glasses and the pen behind his ear.

No wonder why his best friend respected him. This was a professional, if Artur hadn’t figured it out on Sunday.

“Artur,” he said with a grin. “Good to see you back here again. Do you need some help? Information?”

“Lunch…dinner…some­thing.”

Levitan nodded. “Anything in particular?”

He shook his head. “Chef’s choice.”

“Good choice.”

Levitan worked the deli counter like a sushi chef, slicing meats and pounding rye bread strong enough for the smell to waft from behind the counter. “Heavier? Lighter?”

He couldn’t ask for sour cream; he didn’t want to jeopardize Paul’s hard earned meat serving license despite his love for the dairy delicacy. So he made a different choice. “Matzah balls?”

“You got it.”

A flick of a switch and within minutes, a window behind the man opened to reveal a steaming bowl.

The soup and sandwich were delivered shortly, and were heaven to his nose.

“You want I should give you advice?”

He laughed. Out came the Yiddishisms. “Sure,” he said because he was many things, but a fool wasn’t one of them. “Tell me.”

“You check the bookstore?”

“For?”

“Information,” he replied. “Store’s run by my wife’s friend. First branch was her passion project after she retired from teaching.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yep. First store’s near my wife’s diner in Hollowville; she started this one about maybefiveyears ago.”

Hmm. Interesting. He floated the name to confirm it. “Tales from Hollowville is the other one?”

“You catch on quick.”

Artur smiled. “Anybody else who’s probably open to talking?”

Levitan paused a moment; Artur could see the older man trying to pull the facts into his brain by sheer force. “Italian place. They had trouble a few years ago. They got some help from a place in Rivertown. Nobody knew because everybody was quiet.”

Thoughts ran around his head as Levitan shrugged.

“Only reason I know is because they needed someone who’d keep it between them to organize the paperwork.”

Because of course, Paul Levitan was an attorney by trade. He fell in love with the restaurant business because of his wife, owner of Hollowville’s famous Dairy restaurant. One more word and Levitan would be the subject of Batya’s TV show.

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