Eager to make her report to Ruth Schwartz, Hannah left straightaway. Boaz and I spent some time drafting the settlement document and then walked back together, wadding our way through the thin, aggravating, drizzle. As if by agreement, we dropped into David Mizrachi’s eatery. Lunch time was long over but both of us felt the need for a cup of his strong brewed aromatic coffee.
“What was that odd crack about Shalom Cohen?” I asked as I wiped the raindrops off my face. “I didn’t know Hannah and Omri had common friends?”
“He meant Joseph Almog,” grinned Boaz. “Shalom Cohen was the nom-de-plume Almog used for this job!”
“How did you identify him?”
“Originally, when Almog became so friendly, Omri suspected he was after his girl. But when Almog kept snooping about the effects of the accident, Omri had second thoughts. When the telephone book yielded no information about a Shalom Cohen at the given address, Omri showed me the photos taken at the engagement party. Well, Eli, we too use Mr Joseph Almog from time to time!”
“And didn’t you use Almog to feed us a line?” I muttered.
“Perish the thought,” grinned Boaz. “What do you think we are? No, Eli, shall we say that we edited some information for your benefit!”
“You mean, selectively edited,” I grumbled.
“Let’s not split hair. Wouldn’t your Jacob Keren love to do the same to us?”
“Wouldn’t he ever. All in all, Boaz, I have to say: well done; very cool indeed!”
“That’s better. Our case went on so smoothly until you had these two breaks this morning!”
“Two?”
“Precisely; to start with, my idiot of a client tried to be clever about some facts. Still, we braved that storm thanks to help from the benign Frau Hod. But then came Shoham’s ‘informal chat’ with Ehood Morag. That, Eli, did it!”
“And to think Keren wanted to get Morag off the case!” I observed.
“For once your boss was out of touch. Ehood Morag’s views about dancing changed radically when his charming Varda said goodbye!”
“When did this happen?”
“A few weeks before we took out our writ in the Omri Tal case. Morag’s wife was disenchanted when they failed to win back the Waltz trophy. She eloped with the current Waltz King!”
“What???”
“You see, that chap’s dancing partner was his own sister. When she migrated to New York, he started to make eyes at Varda; and she succumbed!”
“Just because of the waltzing? What a bitch!”
“No, Eli; you mustn’t say that. Varda’s a good friend of Miri. For years Varda suffered patiently all of Ehood’s nonsense: his long lapses into other worlds when he was on a case; his incessant preoccupation with work; his inability to face everyday problems. The disappointment on the floor was the last straw.”
“Poor chap,” I said feelingly. “He can’t help being what he is!”
“That,” Boaz spoke severely, “is a good excuse for any scoundrel. But be this as it may, Morag’s resulting disenchantment with dancing tells it own tale about the man’s megalomania! Morag can do no wrong! Varda’s elopement must be the fault of the Waltz, although it appeared such a rewarding pastime yesterday!”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree about Morag. Still, his new orientation proved a good stroke of luck for us.”
“Or an appallingly bad one for my poor client: why should Varda’s desertion of her dear Ehood have any bearing on the settlement offered to Omri Tal this morning?”
“I’ve got to agree with you there,” I conceded. “Still, a twenty one thousand Pounds settlement is not to be sneezed at.”
“Not when your income is IL4,000 per annum,” agreed Boaz.
“But that is precisely what Omri was earning,” I pointed out.
“That, Eli, is the taxed income on which he had to base his claim!”
“Oh well,” I said, seeing light. “We thought he might have earned a bit more on the side.”
“And how much did you think he was making on the sly?”
“We didn’t really give the matter much thought. Say another 400 or 500 pounds?”
“Omri Tal’s moonlighting brought him an extra IL6,000 per year. I’ve seen his ‘confidential books’, Eli.”
“Six thousand,” I was stunned. “So that chap earned about ten thousand a year. That’s as much as Keren or Silver.”
“Yes, Eli. Omri Tal was making as much as our top lawyers. And none of them has much to hide. They have to issue receipts!”
“And Omri couldn’t base his claim on real earnings for fear of prosecution?”
“The Income Tax people have been after him for a few years. The stupid idiot put most of his black money into a luxury apartment purchased in his own name. They gave him the benefit of the doubt when he said the money was left to him by a relative in America. But they’ve kept a watchful eye.”
“Oh, well; but didn’t he get back to his tricks when he returned to work?”
“No, he didn’t. Didn’t something catch your eye when you went over his employment record?”
“Before he started his own business he was a job hopper! We wondered why he changed jobs so often. He seems a good tradesman.”
“An excellent one. But he was too greedy. He pinched clients when he was still with a firm: got dentists to send work to his own backroom establishment at slashed prices. When his employers found out, they showed him the door. None of them reported him because they too had jam on their fingers.”
“I see. But what was there to stop him in his tracks when he was back on deck?”
“Just before the accident he engaged two assistants. The silly idiot trusted them. Well, when he had the accident they did a dirty on him!”
“Serve him right,” I muttered. “But still, why didn’t he undercut them further once he got well?”
“He tried; but the margin got very low and the risk became too high. He went to see them and they agreed to buy him out.”
“Joseph Almog’s last report mentioned Omri had sold his practice for IL3,000” I nodded; “not exactly riches!”
“But he’s getting another four thousand from them as soon as he opens his new workshop in Be’er Sheva. Israel Silver is the stakeholder!’
“So that explains why Omri is in such a hurry to get down South?”
“That and because he’s really fed up with Tel Aviv. Give him credit for that, Eli. Be charitable!”
“Not an easy task. I think about the pittance Israel Silver and Jacob Keren pay to hard working characters like you and me. Pfui, Boaz! Pfui to charity!”
“Don’t get hot under the collar, Eli. Think of the fame we’ll gain while Omri continues to repair filthy dentures and works from casts sucked in saliva!”
“You’ve got a point there,” I sighed. “But don’t tell me money doesn’t count. I shudder to think of Keren’s reaction when Rotem’s in-house accountants haggle over our forthcoming fee note. Hannah and I will cop it! Hopefully, you’ll do better with Omri!”
“You must be joking!”
“Surely, in the very least you get our sainted scale fees!”
“Scale fees!” Boaz, lost his cool. “When it comes to money, Omri Tal is a bastard. He’s paying only 60 per cent of the scale fees. And I, Eli, got an omelette on my face this morning! And I put in over 200 hours of work!”
“Why on earth did you accept such a rotten deal?”
“Because some two years ago Omri Tal amused himself by trying to teach me chess openings. I’m still as lousy as before. Still, Omri Tal used that ‘help’ as a lever to demand a hefty discount when he brought me this rotten case. And on top of it, he bloody well pulled the wool over my eyes!”
“So, we are all left holding the sack,” I could not resist giving vent to my feelings. “Omri gets what is, in reality, a poor settlement; you are chewed up; Hannah makes a fool of herself; and our firm will earn what Rotem graciously consent to pay in due course. The old Israelites were more lucky than us: Manna from heaven for a leisurely stroll across the desert!”
“Care to try it?” grinned Boaz.
“No, thank you. I’d better stick to the Law. Jacob Keren’s firm ain’t paradise; but in the very least it’s not a wilderness.”