The ‘phone rang as soon as I entered my office. Boaz was smirking. “I thought you’d help the Balanis; sorry I couldn’t: I had an urgent ‘phone call.”
“As good a reason as any,” I muttered.
“Now, now, Eli – sarcasm is lost on my deaf ears; or – you could say – water down a duck’s back. But you are right: I wanted the two of you to get acquainted.”
“I wish you hadn’t! Simha told me something that’s none of my business. He mentioned Yossi. I’ll have to raise his ‘rashness’ as a defence if the case goes to trial. You know that!”
“I do! But you were bound to find out in any event. Our law encourages ‘fair play’!”
He was, of course, right. Different procedural devices, taken from English law, enabled a party to legal proceedings to get from the other the information required for his strategy.
“What are the chances of Simha accepting our offer, Boaz?”
“I suspect Shimon will dig his heels in, Eli. It’s stupid; but it’s not in our control.”
“What’s the matter with the chap?”
“He reckons it’s his big chance. If the background isn’t clear, have a word with Rachel!”
Boaz’s reference to Rachel did not take me by surprise. Rachel and Boaz had been classmates in University and knew one another well. They had also crossed swords in court and, in the process, developed mutual respect for one another’s ability. In point of fact, she was a party to the discreet talks concerning the plans for a new legal partnership. Further, Boaz knew that Rachel’s insights into sociological and behavioural issues were sharper than mine.
Rachel listened keenly to my description of the meeting with the Balanis and my conversation with Boaz. To my surprise, her reaction was stronger than I had anticipated. Grinning malevolently, she came over and patted my shoulder as if I were a dumb child. “So, my pet, you let ‘partner Boaz’ set you-up.”
“You better explain yourself!” I let my chagrin show.
“That scrap your good friend Simha volunteered about Yossi: a bit too artificial, eh?”
“It was out of context, rather.”
“Don’t you think Boaz coached him?”
“What for?”
“You would find out in any event. And this way, he invoked your sympathy, didn’t he?”
“He did rather: don’t you think Simha’s act was noble?”
“But why toot his horn? Boaz knows you well, Eli!”
“So he knows I’ll have to plead the point whether I like it or not!”
“True; but he knows this way you are less likely to make a song and dance about it.”
Rachel’s pronouncement highlighted the unkind treatment meted out by our law to the good Samaritan. At one stage, a party in Simha’s position was bound to lose his case. A fireman, who rushed into a burning house without adequate safeguards, or a brave citizen who jumped into a pond to save a drowning child, were regarded “volunteers”, who took on a risk with its natural consequences. As a result, their position was precarious: as volunteers, they got nothing! Modern law replaced this Draconian doctrine with the notion that a good Samaritan had to bear a share of the ensuing loss commensurate with his ‘contributory negligence’. Simha’s rush into the danger zone was a classic case in point. His ‘contribution’, though, would be ‘measured’ by the judge on the basis of the arguments pressed on him. My attitude, as counsel of the parties sued, would make all the difference.
“You are right,” I told Rachel. “But I still don’t get what Boaz meant when he said you’d explain to me Shimon’s resistance of a pension. In my eyes, he is nothing but a selfish swine!”
“I don’t think that fair, Eli. Do you remember that incident when we went to the Bezalel Museum on Shabbath?”
Rachel’s words rang a bell. A few months earlier on, I persuaded Rachel to visit the Bezalel Museum. Naturally, the main office box was closed out of respect for the day of rest but a discreet notice directed us to a less conspicuous ticket office in a small lane nearby. When we returned with the entry tickets, a group of excited Jewish oriental youngsters, who thought they were being denied access on ethnic grounds, were having a shouting match with the doorman. To calm them down, Rachel gave them our tickets and insisted we accompany the remaining members of the group to the camouflaged ticket office. Once they understood the issue, the group paid for our tickets and treated us to soft drinks.
“But what has this got to do with the Balani case? What does ‘background’ – if that’s what we want to call it – have to do with pension vis-à-vis lump sum?”
“ ‘Background’ is the key to Shimon’s attitude. He is convinced his ‘people’ are disadvantaged. Even if one of them is as good as ‘others’, he doesn’t get an ‘even chance’: all cards are staked against him. But here is Shimon’s chance. He wants to make the most of it!”
“And if he makes it, he’ll look well after Simha?”
“He will, Eli!”
“And if he fails? Doesn’t he think about the dire consequences?”
“He closes his eyes to them. Like Simha himself, he believes the world owes him. And here is his chance to get delivery.”
For a while both of us were immersed in our thoughts. Rachel had hit the nail on its head. All the same, much remained unclear: “So there’s no chance for a settlement, Rachel?”
“None!”
“Did Boaz know?”
“I am sure he did!”
“So why the pantomime this morning?”
“Boaz’s a good lawyer. He knows it’s in Simha’s interest to take the pension. You can’t blame him for trying. Now his conscience is clear! You would have used the same tactics.”