The Shivah Part #9 - Train's coming

Part 9: Train's coming

Nothing looks out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, a new patron enters the pub.

The man stood at the bar, his dull eyes staring at everything and nothing.

Evening.

> Make small talk
Ask his identity
Say goodbye

Nice night.

Whatever.

Make small talk
> Ask his identity
Say goodbye

So what's your name?

Look, could you leave me alone?

It looked like this was the type of place where people didn't want to be bothered.

Rabbi Stone isn't one to give up, however.

Do you know a Joe DeMarco?

Sure I do. That's my name.

Really?

Yeah, what of it?

You're a hard guy to track down.

Well, yippie. You found me. What do you want?

Because it's the first thing a Rabbi should be asking about.

Are you Jewish, Mr. DeMarco?

Huh? No.

His ignorance was either fake or genuine. Either way, I had my answer.

Never mind.

> Ask about Ethan
Ask about Zelig
Ask about Jack
Say goodbye

What's your beef with Ethan Goldberg?

Never heard of him.

Your name appears in connection with his.

Lotsa Ethan Goldbergs. Lotsa Joe DeMarcos.

You got nothing, so leave me alone.

Ethan was killed just outside of this bar.

Coincidence. You still got nothing.

Ask about Ethan
> Ask about Zelig
Ask about Jack
Poke at the holes in his story
Say goodbye

Do you know Rabbi Zelig?

Was he being serious?

His true intentions were hidden behind those dull, glassy eyes.

A ruse? Or plain ignorance? It was impossible to tell.

His full name is Amos Zelig.

Nope. Sorry.

Ask about Ethan
Ask about Zelig
> Ask about Jack
Poke at the holes in his story
Say goodbye

What's your connection with Jack Lauder?

Don't know him.

Sure you do. He wrote you a number of checks.

Whoever he wrote 'em to, it wasn't me.

Your name is on the checks.

Then it's some other Joe DeMarco. Get outta here.

Ask about Ethan
Ask about Zelig
Ask about Jack
> Poke at the holes in his story
Say goodbye

Time to get serious.

Your name comes up yet again, Mr. DeMarco. This time in several emails addressed to Rabbi Zelig.

So?

So what's the deal?

It wasn't me. It was another Joe.

Sing another tune, because I'm sick of the old one.

It's enough evidence to book you, if I choose to go to the police. So are you going to tell me what's going on?

Joe DeMarco gave me the once over. His dull, pale eyes explored my face. He knitted his eyebrows as if doing some internal calculations, and then finally nodded.

Fine. You wanna talk? Let's talk.

Follow me.

DeMarco exits the pub, and we follow.

And then descend to the 33rd Street subway station.

Looks like the two of us are alone here.

I had no problem with you. But now I've got to kill you.

DeMarco pulls out a knife.

I see. You're an assassin.

I had a feeling you were smart.

My people? You mean the Jews?

A very cozy operation.

What sort of operation was this?

Don't think I'll be doing that. Professional courtesy.

Say goodbye.

You think I'll go so easily?

Don't make me laugh, old man.

This is another conversation we can easily screw up by choosing the wrong responses.

You are a despicable human being.

Yes.

And getting paid a bundle for it!

The only responses that are safe for our health are the rabbinical ones.

How can you live with yourself?

I've been doing this since I was twelve years old. You get used to it.

> How does a twelve year old commit murder?
You're a monster!
The blood of countless innocents is on your hands!

How does a twelve year old commit murder?

Same as anyone. Someone asked me to, so I did.

Let's screw this up, then.

Help! Police!

Nice try.

> That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard.
Do you do everything people ask you to?
Help! Police!

That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard.

It wasn't a deep cut, but I couldn't afford to receive any others.

It's about to get a lot worse.

That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard.
> Do you do everything people ask you to?
Help! Police!

Do you do everything people ask you to?

If the price is right.

You're murdering scum, is what you are.
> Tell me more about your childhood.
Why are you being so defensive?

Tell me more about your childhood.

I felt a sharp, white-hot pain flare on my calf.

When I looked down, I could see my pant leg was turning a deep crimson.

Shut. UP!

> You're murdering scum, is what you are.
Tell me more about your childhood.
Why are you being so defensive?

You're murdering scum, is what you are.

The sharp pinprick of metal tore into my ribs like butter.

I had no time to even cry out before everything turned black.

All I could see was Joe's leering face, laughing at me as he drove the blade home.

As my body lay cooling on the concrete subway platform, I couldn't help but wonder...

What if I could go back and do that again?

Was this death inevitable?

I guess I'll never know.

Game over

The advantage of a Rabbi over a mere street punk lies, of course, with the rabbinical method of conversation. It's only by overloading him with questions that we can distract DeMarco somewhat.

So let's do it.

Your people are in this very, very deep.

My people? You mean the Jews?

A very cozy operation.

The very first response we give doesn't really matter.

Oh? Do tell.

Don't think I'll be doing that. Professional courtesy.

Say goodbye.

You think I'll go so easily?

Don't make me laugh, old man.

Do you really think you'll get away with this?

I've been getting away with this since I was twelve years old.

> How does a twelve year old commit murder?
You're a monster!
The blood of countless innocents is on your hands!

How does a twelve year old commit murder?

Same as anyone. Someone asked me to, so I did.

That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard.
> Do you do everything people ask you to?
Help! Police!

Do you do everything people ask you to?

If the price is right.

What happened to you? Why are you so angry?

Stop asking me these stupid questions! I am what I am, all right?!

You're murdering scum, is what you are.
Tell me more about your childhood.
> Why are you being so defensive?

Why are you being so defensive?

I'm NOT being defensive!