Korah

"Sorry to summon you so early in the morning, Shmul," said Moses in between sips of milk. "But you need to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible, before people start to panic."

"What exactly happened?" asked Inspector Shmul.

"Oh, it's bad, Shmul, it's really bad! You're gonna have to see for yourself. Aaron will fill you in on everything. Now where is that brother of mine?"

A servant entered a room, whispered in Moses' ear, and departed. The old man sighed.

"Sit, Shmul, sit, have some breakfast. It will be a couple of minutes, that Aaron always takes his time. Here, try this."

Moses handed Shmul a circular slice of bread smeared with curds and covered with little seeds. Shmul gave it a whiff, then took a small bite.

"Don't be afraid, eat, eat," continued Moses. "Those small seeds are called sumsum, Aaron says they are all the rage in Mesopotamia. And isn't it nice that we don't have to eat matzoh anymore? I tell you, another bite of that stale..."

Before he could finish, Aaron entered the room, moving with the dexterity of a man half his age. Shmul tried to remember how old Moses was, and what would that make Aaron, but quickly gave up.

"I am not sure what Moses told you, Shmul," Aaron began as the two started to make their way across town, "but this is absolutely terrible!"

The smell of soot started to seep through, magnifying the further along they went. By the time they made it to the edge of town, Shmul felt that his entire being was permeated with the stench. A crowd was starting to form, many holding noses shut with their fingers. When they saw Aaron and Shul coming through, the pack parted, clearing a path as if they were the Red Sea so many fateful years ago.

What was once an elaborate mansion was burned to the ground. In some places, dying embers were still flickering in the morning light before giving way to wisps of smoke. All over the scene, charred human remains were visible, some on top of each other, some crushed by collapsing walls. The one thing left standing was a heavy metal door; a large pile of scorched bones was propping it up from what was once the inside.

"250 men," Aaron sighed, raising his eyes to the sky. "250 men, Shmul, all dead!"

Shmul stepped over the burned-down wall into what used to be an antechamber. Careful not to disturb the bodies, he crouched and dipped two fingers, scooping some ashes.

"We warned Korah not to burn all that incense indoors," said Aaron. "Now look at what happened!"

"Korah?" Shmul tried to remember. "The man who tried to challenge Moses' laws?"

"The one and the same, Shmul, the one and the same! But you know Moses, he welcomes a challenge, he welcomes a healthy discussion! He would never want it to become... this!"

Aaron wiped off tears with the sleeve of his robe. Shmul took a deep whiff of the ashes.

"This smell...," he started. "It's quite peculiar. It's not how incense usually smells."

"No? What do you mean?" asked Aaron.

"There are four ingredients that are essential for incense," explained Shmul. "Levonah — some call it frankincense, nataf, schecheleth, and chelebenah. No, this... this is something else. It's burning oil. And it's not olive oil..."

"Not olive oil? Whatever do you mean? Who ever heard of Israelites using anything but olive oil? Wait, do you mean animal fat... That can be made into oil?"

"No," Shmul stood up. "This is definitely not animal fat."

He stepped out of the remains, stood in front of the door, and swabbed along its surface.

"Look," he extended his hand to Aaron. "There is oil on this side as well. This was no incense. Someone locked the door, doused the house with oil, and let all these people burn inside."

"NO!" Aaron recoiled. "You don't mean..."

"I do," calmly said Shmul. "Someone wanted Korah and his followers dead. You don't know anyone who would have a motive, Aaron? Perhaps someone who did not want Korah to challenge Moses' authority? Perhaps someone," he brought his hand closer to Aaron's nose, forcing the old man to take a big whiff, "who has access to... what was it called, sumsum? They make oil out of sumsum in Mesopotamia, don't they, Aaron?"

For a brief moment, Aaron's face contoured into a mask of shock, but quickly composed himself.

"Sumsum oil? I would have to check on that, Shmul, but that does seem possible... But what are you saying? This is... murder?"

"Murder of 250 men, Aaron," Shmul calmly said.

"Moses will need to hear about this immediately! Come on, Shmul, we need to let him know!"

Aaron looked over the ever-increasing crowd, then stood up on a large charged stone.

"Israelites!" he screamed out. "Let it be known that Korah and his heathen followers were punished by G-d's heavenly fire! Now be on your way!"

"Let that be the cover story," Aaron whispered in Shmul's ear. "We can't have the townspeople be afraid of a murderer on the loose..."

As Aaron started to make his way back into town, Shmul stood firmly entrenched on his spot.