Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

Raisins and Almonds 81
‘Alchemy has always been connected with the study of the
Holy Kabala, and these writings use a system of numbers which
is derived from a reading of the Torah, the scriptures. If I can
only find…here is Zorah, Sepher Yetzirah, Akiba’s Alphabet, yes,
and Shuir Komah, which states that the measurement of the
body of man is the measure of being and of the nature of God.
Hmm, surely I didn’t lend it to Shimeon?’ He lifted books with
difficulty singing his litany of titles, searching for a particular
text. Phryne did not offer to help. Who knew if her gentile touch
might make his most precious books unclean? ‘If you will excuse
me, I must find the Book of Razael,’ said the Rabbi, and dived
back into the volumes.
Mrs. Rabinowitz was in the kitchen, clattering crockery. Phryne
went that way, as the old man did not require her presence.
The kitchen contained one tray, one teapot, two cups and
saucers and plates. It was dusty and unused. Clearly the Rabbi
didn’t do any cooking.
‘Look at this!’ exclaimed the older woman. ‘Not one of my
good pancakes eaten. It was different when Sarah was here, Sarah
was his wife. But the boys are coming tonight and they’ll bring
food; they always do, the ones who can’t afford to pay him. And
that’s all of them.’
‘Will he let me give him money for this translation?’ asked
Phryne. Mrs. Rabinowitz’s workworn countenance seemed to
shrink.
‘If he could give me a little towards the rent—that collector
has no manners, he shouts at the old man—but if I could catch
him in the stairway, he doesn’t like climbing all them stairs…’
Phryne handed over a note, which vanished at the speed of
light.
‘Miss…Miss…er…I have it,’ called the scholar, and Phryne
swapped a grin with Mrs. Rabinowitz. She saw the old scholar
on his feet, his white locks flying, a book open over one hand,
reminding Phryne of the denouncing God over the church door
in Ravenna. She hoped that he wasn’t overstraining his heart.
‘Yes, Rabbi?’