The Missing Wine Case
I’m Bud, Bud Insky and this is my story.
It was a Friday afternoon like every other Friday afternoon, where the author of this story puts me on hiatus or simply forgets about me until the author needs me for another crime story, for which I’m famous.
Suddenly, the author pulls me out of never, never land and decides to use me.
The author sends me to a local synagogue to investigate an unknown crime.
As I happen upon this house of worship. I see a Rabbi and the shabbos goy freaking out.
As I interrupt their “freakiness” I ask a question that I’ve always asked in every case I’ve ever investigated.
“What’s going on?”
The Rabbi started to answer but the shabbos goy interrupted him.
“Somebody stole the Kiddush Wine.”
“Oh vey, oh vey, vhat do I do now?” The Rabbi jumped in.
The shabbos goy tried to explain to me why the author sent me here, and I hope it wasn’t to waste my time.
“You see, the Rabbi, Rabbi Moshe Cohen uses the Kiddush wine to celebrate the coming of the Shabbat, and someone stole the Kiddush wine so that the Rabbi can’t start to celebrate the coming of Shabbat.”
“Okay, I’m getting the picture, but what’s the problem?”
“The Shabbat starts in a couple of hours and there is no Kiddush wine to celebrate with. You understand?”
That was the Shabbos goy giving me a lesson on Shabbat.
“Well, why don’t you just buy more Kiddush wine until I find out who stole the Kiddush wine?” I thought that was a quick fix for now.
“All the stories are closed, the ones that sell the wine. And if we don’t have any by the time Shabbat starts, we’ll be in trouble with you know who.”
“Oh, the Rabbi.”
That’s who I thought of when the shabbos goy said “You know who.”
“No” he insisted.
“The big guy upstairs. The author doesn’t want to write his name down but we know who the author is talking about.”
Now it’s about my specialty, as a detective and finding out who stole the Kiddush wine.
I asked the shabbos goy some questions that I’ve learned though my many years as a detective that I found very helpful.
“Can you describe this Kiddush wine?”
The shabbos goy looks confused at first but then begins to think hard and long about the wine.
“It was blue, dark blue.”
Now I’m get the picture.
“Is there anything else about this dark blue wine that I should know?”
“Yea, it’s in a glass bottle that says “Kiddush Wine.”
The picture is coming into focus now.
“Is there anything else that you can tell me about this dark blue wine in a glass bottle that says “Kiddush wine” that could help me?”
As he points his index finger up in the air.
“It’s bless by you know who, the one the author doesn’t want to write his name down.”
“So let me understand. I’m looking for a glass bottle of dark blue wine that says “Kiddush wine” and is blessed by you know who, the author doesn’t want to write his name down. Let me start looking for whoever stole this whatever, that I can’t write down because of the author.”
“Where are you going to start?” Asks the Shabbos goy.
“Well, I usually start with my database. I keep tabs on all the crime commented and by who. So, I can access my data base to look for known criminals who have stolen a glass bottle that says “Kiddush wine”, dark blue and blessed by you know who.”
“How many criminals are there in that data base?”
“Let me see,” As Bud Insky tries to search his cell phone for information.
But it seems like nothing is coming up on his data base.
“I’ll get back to it later. Is there any security cameras in this place?”
“Yes, in the office. I can show you if you like?” The shabbos goy informs Bud Insky.
“While I try and get my data base up and running, maybe you could access the cameras so I don’t have to waste my own time doing it.”
“Okay, I’ll start looking though the footage and if I see something, I’ll let you know.”
The shabbos goy leaves to go to the front office while Bud is trying to figure out why nobody is coming up on his data base.
After a few minutes, the shabbos goy comes back to see Bud Insky.
“I think I found something on the footage you need to see.”
Together they go to view the footage.
“You see that. Hun, he looks like he’s holding something under his shirt.”
“Can you zoom in on his face, maybe you can identify him.”
The Shabbos goy zooms in on the person holding something under his shirt.
“Why, why, that’s the Rabbi’s brother, Samuel. He was here this morning, but I guess I didn’t see him.”
Bud Insky now has a clear picture.
“Yes, yes, I see it now for what it is. For sure, he’s holding a bottle with his right hand under his shirt. I’ve seen this before. All my years of hard work and experience have led me to know what’s happening.”
“It’s one of four things. Most likely, it’s sibling rivalry. I’m guessing that the Rabbi is older than his brother. Is that right?”
“Yea, that’s right.”
“Samuel steals the Kiddush wine because his older brother must have done something to him at some point in time. That’s one option. Or number 2, their father liked Moshe better than Samuel and this is payback or number3 Samuel is looking for attention. He feels neglected, nobody cares about him so he acts out to get attention or number4, he has a problem with alcohol and he can’t admit it. Needless to say, I’ll get to the bottom of this. Where does Samuel live?” Bud Insky asks.
“Please hurry, we only have a few hours before Shabbat and we need the wine back as soon as possible.”
“Don’t worry about the time factor. The author has assured me that he’ll extend the beginning of Shabbat until I return.”
“Okay, here’s the address, He lives right around the corner from here.”
I found the address easy enough, the author doesn’t want me to waste time now that Shabbat is only hours away.
I knock on the door and Samuel answers right away. All to hurry up the story.
“Are you Samuel?” I ask.
“Yes, I am. Who are you?” He returns the question,
“I’m Bud, Bud Insky, detective, par excellence, looking for you.”
“Please, come in, Mr. Insky is it?”
“Yea, yea. What’s it to ya?”
“I knew a MR. Iskowitz years ago. Any relation?” Samuel was trying to figure out who I was.
“Cut the crap. Where can we talk?” I asked.
“Please, sit down over here and can I get you a cup of coffee?”
I notice he didn’t ask me if he could get me a cup of Kiddush wine.
“No, thanks. I’m in a religious hurry so there’s no time for small talk.”
As we both sat down facing each other my experience told me I had to do one thing. Ask him if he stole the Kiddush wine. I thought the best way was just come out and ask him.
“Did you steal the dark blue wine that came in a glass bottle that said “Kiddush wine” and was bless by you know who.”
“Why, yes I did. I want it noted, write it down, that I stole the Kiddush wine. Make sure to put that in your report. I stole the Kiddush wine.”
If he doesn’t stop talking, I’m going to lose all credibility. I’m supposed to drag it out of him. What are they going to think of me if he gives it up so easily?
Boy, was that hard to get him to confess. It took all my energy to convince him to spill the beans.
This is where I go into head shrink mode. Now that he’s confessed, I try to understand why he did it.
“Let me guess, your brother, the Rabbi, is always taking center stage, making you feel inferior. You stole the Kiddush wine to get back at him for all those years of torment. Tell me the truth, you despise your brother for that.”
“No, never, never have I ever felt that way. My brother is the best person I have ever known. He has helped me in so many ways. I couldn’t begin to explain.”
Well number one hypothesis is gone.
Next is number two.
“Your father loved your brother more than you and this is your way of showing your brother who the boss really is. Huh, am I right?”
“What are you saying? Both of my parents were wonderful people and treated us with love and respect. Why my parents, both of them showered us with equal amounts of love and attention.”
Well, that just shot down number two and three.
My last guess must be right. I’m sure of it.
“Forget what I said before. I know you must have a drinking problem, otherwise why would you steal alcohol instead of something more valuable. But there is always help, so don’t worry, I can get you the help you so obviously need.”
“I don’t have a drinking problem. I can drink very responsibly. Nobody who knows me would ever say I have a drinking problem. Please, feel free to ask anybody who knows me and I promise you, they will all say I don’t have a drinking problem.”
Now what do I do. Every idea I had was just shot down.
All I could think then was “Why did you steal the Kiddush wine?”
I didn’t know how else to put it than that.
“I’ll tell you why. When I was visiting my brother at the synagogue this morning, I could see he was in a bad mood. I didn’t realize what I was doing was also putting him in a bad mood, too.”
“What was it you did?” Bud Asked.
“I went there to complain about my maid and landscaper. I wanted to tell him how much trouble I was having with them. You know, the maid only works four days a week for me, I wanted her for six days a week and my landscaper trimmed my bushes to close. I was very upset about that. As I’m telling my brother about this, he shot back at me how everybody comes to him to complain about everything they can think to complain about.”
“Yes, go on.”
“You, and everybody else think I’m here just to listen to your problems nobody ever thinks about me, and what I’m going though.”
Samuel stops for a minute.
“Don’t leave me hanging. What’s going on?”
“This is where I hear my brother, he’s never once steered me wrong. If he told me to do something, I would do it, no question about it. I trust my brother, one hundred percent.”
Samuel stops to catch his breath and wipe away a tear or two.
“What is it?” Bud wants to know.
“Well, after he told me about how he feels, he said something that I took to heart, because, like I said, he would never steer me wrong.”
Samuel takes a deep breath.
“He said to me ‘I wish someone would lift my spirts’ and I took that to mean that he wanted someone, me, to steal the Kiddush wine. There I said it. That’s why I stole the Kiddush wine i.e. lifted his spirts. That’s why I did it.”
Bud was just knocked over by that confession. He’d never ever thought that was the reason. All his experience was for not.
But now to get the Kiddush wine back to the synagogue before Shabbat starts, so the author doesn’t have to delay the start of the Shabbat.
This is where the author wants the reader to applaud.
Being only a few minutes from the synagogue, Bud Insky rushes the Kiddush wine back just in time for the Shabbat to begin.
But after Bud gives the Kiddush wine back to the Rabbi, he says he’d like to talk to the Rabbi in private, if possible.
The Rabbi agrees and they go into the Rabbi’s private office.
“Thanks for getting the Kiddush wine back, in the Knick of time for Shabbat.” The Rabbi is in a good mood now.
“No problem, happy to do it. But, if I may, there’s something I realized about today. How important is it to celebrate the beginning of Shabbat with the Kiddush wine-but if I can make a suggestion?”
“Please, go ahead, Bud. Tell me whatever you want.”
“Well, if it was up to me, I would celebrate the beginning of the Shabbat not with Kiddush wine, but Kiddush Vodka or maybe some Kiddush Bourbon. Then, if I still wanted to celebrate Shabbat or any other holiday, then maybe I would work my way down to Kiddush wine. That’s what I wanted to suggest to you, Rabbi.”
“You know what I want to do now, call the author and have him take you back to where you came from, before I start my Shabbat service. Good bye.”
And with that, the author put Bud Insky back in never, never land where he was before the sabot wine went missing.
Author Notes: One more story in the adventures of crime fighter Bud Insky.