“But they did allow us to bring you this,” said the rabbi, handing over the small bundle tied up with a rag.
Federn’s fingers were so stiff with cold that Rabbi Gans had to help him untie the rag and spread out the contents—a cold piece of stuffed fish with a pinch of maror, a half-dozen round matzohs, a sealed bottle of wine, and a pair of thin, white Shabbes candles.
Federn nodded toward a tin cup of water, and I retrieved it for him. He cupped his hands, and I poured out a bit of the water so that he could wash his hands and dry them with the rag.
“They wouldn’t even let me make a Seder,” he said, as if he needed to apologize to us for this transgression.
Rabbi Loew made this wretched place a little bit holier by chanting a verse from the Psalms: “Ki mikol tsoroh hitsiloni uve’oyvay ro’asoh eyni.” For from all trouble He has rescued me, and upon my enemies my eye has fallen.
I wondered why he chose that passage until he said, “There is your Seder. And your matzoh as well.”
Then I realized that the rabbi had chosen a verse with three successive words beginning with the letters mem, tsadek, and hey, which form the word , or matzoh, and thus contain the essence of the Seder in a few short words.
We couldn’t light the candles, so we just said the Shabbes blessing.
Federn’s lips trembled as he said the brukhes over the bread and wine. He took a bite of matzoh, a sip of wine, and when this little ceremony was finished, he hungrily gobbled up the fish. Between bites he asked me to pour some wine into the tin cup.
“There’s still some water in here,” I said.
“It’s left over from the prisoner before me,” he said, his mouth full of fish.
That explained why he hadn’t touched it. It was extremely dangerous to drink from another man’s cup, especially in a filthy place like this. If the other man had contracted a fever or some other illness, the harmful spirit of that illness could have slipped out of his mouth and into the water.
I dumped out the remaining water and filled the cup with wine.
What wonders a crust of bread and a cup of wine can do to cheer a man’s heart! I waited till Federn was sipping his second cup of wine and nibbling on his second matzoh before opening up the subject of our visit.
“Reb Federn is so formal,” I said. “Is it all right if I call you Jacob?”
“Why shouldn’t it be all right?”
“Listen to me, Jacob,” I went on. “If you want to get out of here, you’ve got to be cleared of all charges. And in order to do that, we need to hear what happened in your own words.”
“You were there. You saw everything. What else is there to say?”
“No, I didn’t see everything,” I said. “For example, I didn’t see what happened there three days ago.”
“What do you mean, three days ago?”
“I mean that what happened in your shop started at least three days ago, if not long before that.”
I pressed on before Federn could respond: “By the way, we found a piece of silver thread on the floor of your shop. Do you have any idea how it could have gotten there?”
“How should I know?”
“Did any of your recent customers wear silver thread?”
“How do you expect me to remember that?”
“So it could have been anyone.”
“Vey iz mir, I’m freezing to death up here and he’s talking in riddles.”
“Are you acquainted with Viktor Janek, the father of the victim?”
“Uh…only slightly.”
“But well enough to get into an argument with him?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t remember any argument.”
“You don’t remember talking with him?”
“Do you remember every conversation you’ve ever had?”
“You were seen arguing with Viktor Janek in front of your shop. That was three days ago. Surely you can remember that far back?”
“Why are you speaking as if I were the guilty one?”
“I don’t know. Why are you reacting as if you were the guilty one?”
“Everyone’s guilty of something,” he said defensively.
“Don’t I know it,” I said. But something in the room had shifted, and I had to shift with it.
“It must be hard to run a Jewish shop outside the gates, with all those goyim staring at you as if you’ve got horns growing under your hat, your wife carping at you for not putting aside more money, your daughter getting ready for the matchmaker—do you have