The Luck of Valentino

The correspondence respecting the case of Omri Tal versus Solomon Vered and Movil & Co. Ltd was dumped unceremoniously on my desk late in the morning, on a heavily clouded day in early spring, by Jacob Keren, sole proprietor of J. Keren & Associates, Advocates, of Rothschild Boulevard, Tel Aviv. A short choleric man in his late fifties, with thick glasses, receding hair and a loud metallic voice, he was – as was his wont – in a foul mood. ...

My choice of Hannah was partly explainable by the friendship I felt for her. Although Hannah’s solid Hamburgese background differed in more than one way from my relaxed and light-hearted Viennese milieu, both of us were Yekkes. In a firm dominated by Russian Jews and Sabres this cultural affinity drew us together. Every so often, when we felt alienated by the rough mannerism and Chutzpah of our colleagues, we reverted to German, earning hostile glances from those present. In addition, Hannah and I shared a taste for books and for good films. Frequently, we lent German novels to one another and, occasionally, went together to the cinema. Another, even stranger, bond was that both of us suffered from Asthma. When either of us came down with an attack, the other lent a supportive shoulder. ...

Hannah spent two weeks in the dental laboratory of an old acquaintance. In due course, Kadmon’s secretary handed me the documents received in respect of Omri Tal’s claim . To my delight, Boaz Tamir had stepped into my trap. The verbose documents served on us had been prepared with a view to confusing Kadmon. They failed to state a plain ‘case’ as was appropriate for a skirmish with down to earth protagonists like Hannah and me. Suppressing a malicious grin, I retired to my office to prepare our response. ...

Back in my minuscule office, I took stock of the situation. Having the Omri Tal case assigned to Justice Ehood Morag was an unfortunate development. Although Morag was a fair minded man and an excellent lawyer, his sympathy was bound to be with the victim of the accident. Originally, Ehood Morag’s liberal orientation had come as surprise to the legal fraternity of Tel Aviv. Prior to his elevation to the Bench, he had been one of the leading advocates engaged by insurance companies in road and industrial accident cases. He was an accomplished cross-examiner. He had also been renowned for driving a hard bargain when cases were settled before trial. ...

As we walked out, Boaz heaved a sigh of relief. “Ehood Morag gives me a headache. He has a knack of complicating simple points!” “Don’t you think his analysis of our case is right? Isn’t Morag brilliant?” “He is; but only in a narrow field,” conceded Boaz. “But he is unbending and makes no allowances once he steers a course. Judges like him forget they deal with human problems: not with philosophical arguments!” ...

A few days passed before I managed to track Hannah down. After weeks of a major courtroom battle, she took one week of leave. When she reappeared, I stared at her with concern. Once again she had lost weight, looked worn out and a dry cough and persistent wheeze marred her speech. “You need a real break, Hannah. “And you ought to spend a few days in Eilat. A change of climate can do wonders.” ...

During the following weeks, Boaz and I kept exchanging procedural broadsides. Each clever move cancelled out another, which meant that we produced more heat than light. The proceedings, though, did not disrupt our friendship. During the very same period, I came over regularly to the Tamirs’ residence, usually bringing with me a bottle of wine or, as was the custom in Israel, fresh fruit for their table. Invariably, we had a pleasant time, playing after dinner a game of Monopoly, listening to music, or discussing fervently some political events or newly published books. The only subject we stayed clear off was the Omri Tal trial. ...

When Boaz returned to work, winter was just around the corner. Our pre-trial hearing with Baruch Shoham took place on a wet and chilly day. Unlike the sparkling conference table in Morag’s ante chamber, Shoham’s plain table was covered with books, untidily strewn files and proofs of articles to be published in The Advocate, which he edited for our Law Society. As we entered, he raised his eyes from the document in front of him and beckoned us to sit down. ...

Leaving our briefcases in the “robing room”, Boaz and I walked to Nahalat Benjamin Street. Ignoring Boaz’s covetous glance in the direction of David Mizrachi’s Eatery, I steered a course to the old fashioned restaurant which served home cooked Jewish dishes. Boaz sighed as he perused the bill of fares but cheered up when the salt beef, boiled chicken, mashed potatoes and a mixed salad were placed in front of us. ...

Omri Tal saw Dr. Alon Shaked before the end of the month. When the medical report was in, I convened the firm’s pre-trial ‘conference’, chaired by Jacob Keren in person. Shortly before the appointed hour, Hannah Hod slipped into my office. She looked invigorated, had put on weight and, to my delight, had taken the trouble to make herself up. “And how are you, Eli? I hear you have moved up in the world?” ...