The Mourning Sexton
A Novel of Suspense
Chapter One
Just before sunrise on a cold December weekday, the morning gabbai
unlocks the front door of Anshe Emes. He steps inside the small
foyer and turns on the light. Squinting in the sudden brightness, he
unbuttons his overcoat. The gabbai is a tall handsome man in his
late fifties with strong features, salt-and-pepper hair, and somber
blue eyes.
He pauses in the main sanctuary to adjust the thermostat and
continues along the back corridor to the small shul, the place of
worship used for weekday services. He opens the door, turns on the
light, and waits as the fluorescent tubes flicker overhead, making
the contents of the room seem to jiggle. There are three rows of
benches on either side of a narrow center aisle. Seating for
eighteen, maybe twenty. He checks ... read full excerpt from The Mourning Sexton ebook
