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Festival of Deaths(121)

By:Jane Haddam


“No reason at all,” Gregor said. “Except that this isn’t an ordinary dreidel.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This is an Israeli dreidel,” Gregor said. “It’s of a kind that can only be bought in Israel, not in the United States. See? You can tell. Dreidels sold in the United States have the letters nūn, gīmel, hē, and shīn on them. For the first letters of the Hebrew words that make up the sentence ‘A great miracle occurred there.’ But in Israel, instead of the last shīn, we have pē—for the Hebrew word for here. ‘A great miracle occurred here.’ Do you see the difference?”

“I don’t see what difference it makes.”

“Have you ever been to Israel, Mr. Prescott?”

“I’ve been to Israel. I was stationed in Greece when I was in the army. Everybody on the show has been to Israel.”

“Not everybody on the show was found standing over the body of an attempted murder victim with one of these dreidels in his possession.”

“So what?”

“So these dreidels are sold in packages of three. And we found the other two.”

“Where?”

“Where do you think, Mr. Holloway? We found one next to the dead body of Maximillian Dey. The other was picked up next to the body of Maria Gonzalez. You’ve been very careless, Mr. Holloway.”

“Bullshit.”

“It isn’t bullshit at all. I would suggest you have exactly two choices. You can either have a nice long talk with Mr. Jackman here, or he can use this dreidel,” Gregor held it up and spun it by its handle, “to put you right into the electric chair.”

“Bullshit,” Prescott Holloway said again, but he sounded different now. Gregor could hear the waver in his voice.

They’re all stupid in the end, Gregor told himself. That’s why we win as often as we do. They’re all stupid in the end.

Gregor tossed the dreidel in the air, and caught it, and smiled. Then he tossed the dreidel in the air again, and caught it again, and smiled again. That was when Prescott Holloway lunged.

It turned out that it was easier to get out of a chair from that position than Gregor thought.

Fortunately, Prescott Holloway was not only handcuffed, but a victim of very bad timing.

Just as he made it to his feet, the elevator doors on the other end of the corridor opened and let out a crowd of white-coated young doctors on the run.

That was when all hell broke loose.