A Late Divorce (7 page)

“Do you hear me, Kedmi? Wait there and I'll come with you.”

“Don't bother. Either I go see her by myself or else you can count me out. You can find yourselves another lawyer, it will cost you fifty thousand smackers plus tax just for the right to talk to him. You have no idea how lucky you are that I'm both in the business and a member of this family. If I didn't exist you'd have to invent me. You're wrong if you think that I'm nothing but a big oaf with a loose tongue. You have no monopoly on either pain or gentleness.” I glance at my secretary sitting silently with her head down playing with her pencil lapping up every goddamn word. “I have an old mother too and I know what it's like. I'll know how to handle her. I've already talked to her several times, I've done the groundwork and prepared her. She's a lot stronger and saner than you think. We have a good, unsentimental, working relationship, even the dog's taken a liking to me lately.... Where are you talking from, home? Then there's time to explain to you exactly what my plan is....”

In the end he manages to hang up on me. It's almost ten o'clock am I going or not. Maybe the check will still come I'll feel better if I deposit it myself. I dial Ya'el.

“Yes, Tsvi called me.... No, he's not coming with me.... Yes, I'm being stubborn. If someone has to be stubborn, it damn well better be me. Is your father still sleeping?...He had to come all the way to Israel to learn the fine art of slumber.... What did I say to him? I already told you, I didn't say a thing. Tell me what he said that I said, go on, I want to hear.... If you don't know stop hassling me, I'm hassled enough as it is.... Because I'll go see her by myself. I'll get her to sign, you'll see it will all work out.... All right....All right....All right....All right.... I'll only say what's absolutely necessary. Ten percent of my average output.”

I know she's smiling now into the phone that wise tender smile that I married her for not like Levana's who isn't missing a word her curly African head down grinning to herself for sheer joy. Hats off to her I never would have thought that she knew what average output meant. I can see that if I want to keep up her morale I have to crack some joke at my own expense every hour on the hour.

“Just a minute, Ya'el.'' I cover the receiver with my hand. “If you don't mind, Levana, as long as I'm still in the office ... that wet rag we talked about ... the sign down below...”

She rises grudgingly she takes a rag and goes out while I get back to Ya'el I say a few sweet words and remind her to reserve a place for her father on the limousine to Jerusalem tomorrow.

I'd really better go or should I wait some more but what for. It doesn't look like there'll be any mail today. I sit down and open a locked drawer I take out the murder file and leaf through it. By now I know every detail by heart but still it obsesses me. This is my chance this is my hope this is my ticket to get ahead. The rest is garbage. Three months ago when Steiner died his office divvied up his cases. I got a young murderer a television repairman it looks like he really did it though he insists that he didn't since then he's all I think about. I've slept with him dreamed of him spent dozens of hours with him. His family has no money but they've called in a rich uncle from Belgium to help and help is what he'll need. He made sure to leave his fingerprints all over the apartment everywhere except on the television that he never got around to fixing. But did he murder the old man or did he just find the corpse there I'm going nuts trying to figure it out I'll drive the judges nuts too. I phone the prison and ask them to get him ready for me I'll stop off on my way to have a chat with him.

So now I really have to move. Only where's Levana? I step into the dark corridor into its underworld mold. A few unsavory characters are sitting on the bench by the door to Mizrachi's office for the past year the media have been arguing whether there's organized crime in this country if they could see who's being licensed to practice law these days they would realize that the organization is the government.

So where has she gone to? I should never have sent her out. All I want now is to move to get going to do something. I return to the office glance at the telephone gather up my papers wipe a little dust with my finger from the volumes of the proceedings of the supreme court smear it on an old map of Israel on the wall rummage through Levana's pocketbook hanging from her chair photographs of movie stars clipped from the newspapers crumpled tissues a vial of cheap perfume what a wasteland in keeping with the grayness of this office with its high mildewed British ceiling that smells of failure once I said to Ya'el give me some bright new idea here some fresh direction of paint but I dropped it when I saw what it would cost. I call my mother to let off some steam.

“It's you at last. I thought you'd forgotten me.” (Since Ya'el's father arrived she hasn't had a moment of peace.) “What's happening.” (It's not a question, it's a statement of fact.) “I called yesterday afternoon, did they tell you? What kind of business is that, leaving Gaddi alone with the baby, he's only six.” (Seven.) “He sounded so sad.” (He always does to her.) “And the old man was sleeping.” (That's what she calls him, even though he's a year younger than she is.) “What's the matter with him? Is he sick or is there something up his sleeve? He didn't even bring Gaddi a present. What sort of egotism is that? Did he bring anything for you?”

“No. It's not important.”

“I knew he wouldn't, and here you are trying to get him his divorce. Is that poor crazy thing really ready to agree?” (She's always made her out to be sicker than she is.) “To think of him throwing her to the dogs like that.” (I hold the telephone away from my ear and stare out the window.) “Why must you involve yourself in it?” (Here I can't deny she has a point.) “He isn't paying you after all, is he? Is he?”

“No. Why should he?”

“I knew it. So why get involved. If afterwards there's trouble, you'll be held responsible. Don't you have enough work in the office without looking for more? In the end there's bound to be bad feelings and who will he hate for it? You. They'll take it out on you because you're not one of theirs, so why are you wasting your time always running to sec her? Don't you have an important trial coming up? You know, the one your career depends on, that trial you're preparing for, that if you get that rapist acquitted ...”

“Murderer.”

“That makes it even bigger. It will make you famous, you'll be able to open a big office. So instead of getting ready for all the questions you'll be asked you go running gratis to insane asylums. What will come of it all? Yesterday I thought I'd go say hello to him, but all this sleeping of his scared me off. And what's with Ya'el? Smiling her quiet smile, I'll bet. Didn't you once tell me that you fell in love with her because of it? Didn't you, Yisra'el?”

“I did.”

“Well, you're free to decide what you want. Your poor father once said something deadly about that smile, something you're not going to want to hear. Do you want to hear it?”

“Not now, mother.”

“So I'll see him the night of the seder then. It's rather strange to insist on a divorce at his age, don't you think? What does he need it for? He's separated from her anyway. But I suppose he wants to get married over there in America. People have no idea what sex does to old people. Your own father when he was in the hospital ... do you want to hear about it?”

“Not now, mother. I'm in a hurry. Some other time.”

Levana enters noiselessly she puts the rag by the sink she washes her hands.

“Will you drop by today? I've made those meat patties that you like.”

“I don't think so. I have a crazy day today.”

“I have a delicious pie too.”

“I'm afraid I can't. What sort of pie?”

“Apple.”

“Well, I'll see. Goodbye.”

She's still washing her hands.

“Are you done?” I ask gently. “You seem to have misunderstood. I meant you should just clean the sign, not the whole street ...”

She flushes her eyes going wild.

“You have to comment on everything!”

“What??”

But she doesn't answer.

“What??”

But she doesn't answer her head is bowed her hands twist a piece of paper she's actually trembling.

And I'm already outside. Feeling hassled. They've hassled the hell out of me Ya'el my mother and now this little darkie too. Just imagine if every darkie around here should start opening his mouth and saying dark things. It's not enough that ninety percent of them are in court all the time. They want to give us lessons in etiquette too. My mood is shot now. Suddenly I'm all jelly inside. My father went and left me with this nosy venomous woman and I have to carry her on my back. An only child. Everybody's favorite target. They were too busy sleeping at night to have time to make me a brother. I'll show that little darkie yet. When the right moment comes I'll turn off that heater and fire her. My mood's shot to hell. And outside it's cloudy again and everyone's beeping their horns the traffic's moving at a crawl the whole world's in a rush maybe I'll find some peace there in the prison.

Thank God that Haifa is at least a pretty town they haven't managed to ruin it yet. Screened by pine trees that help filter out the general filth. I drive along the ridge of the Carmel into the forest ocean down below on either side bathing my eyes in the green air eddying over the lush wadis.

Everyone knows me here at the prison I'm not even asked for my papers. These past few months I've spent whole days here if ever I'm imprisoned myself I can ask the judge for time off retroactively from my sentence.

What bedlam. Every other door is unlocked the jailers just jingle their keys for form's sake and then wonder why prisoners escape. Escape isn't the word they just have to open the door and walk out.

An old Druse jailer brings me to a dark cubbyhole it's a good thing there are still Druse and Cherkesses to keep order in this country my young murderer sits waiting by a bare wooden table short slender and sullen but very muscular when he was still in handcuffs the first time I met him I noticed how easily he stretched them. I shake his hand. God is my witness that I've tried to like him but he's an unfriendly fantasizing type to top it all off they found some marijuana in his house.

“What's doing?” He looks at me with his mousy eyes.

“Is everything all right?”

He nods.

I toss my attaché case on the table I sit across from him I leaf through the file that I practically know by heart. The forty thousand pounds that I've gotten so far from his family have barely covered the ink and paper that I've wasted on him.

“Have you heard anything from that uncle of yours ... that diamond dealer in Belgium?”

“He's supposed to arrive any day.”

“He's been supposed to arrive for three months now. Apparently he's decided to come from Belgium on foot.”

He gives me a hard sullen stare. I should know by now that I have to be careful with my jokes here.

I begin to ask a few questions going over once more details of his testimony about the great day in his life that I've lived every minute of and know better by now than any day in my own. That's my secret strategy for his defense I'll break time down under the legal microscope into its tiniest particles I'll wage war over each second. The prosecution has no idea what's in store for it. I've catalogued the minutes one by one and I'll prove that he couldn't have done it. This trial will yet be a textbook case to be studied with astonishment and awe. It was Kedmi who first taught us to think in milliseconds...

I interrogate him and he answers briefly and to the point. He's a lone wolf all that damn day he hardly talked to anyone but stupid he's not. I already know all his answers I simply have to polish them here and there to put him through his paces once again. I want this trial in the worst possible way. Just the look of him is suspicious at least let him be clear and precise. But what's the truth? I'm still groping in the dark for it. It's enough to make me despair. The truth is hiding inside his skull like some wriggly slimy gray worm let's hope the prosecution can't get at it either.

The old jailer comes into the room with a note.

“Advocate Yisra'el Degmi? Your secretary wants you to call your wife.”

My murderer looks at me sharply.

“Thank you but the name is Kedmi.”

“You better finish with him soon, he has to go eat lunch.”

Everybody wants to give orders.

“I heard you. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone with him.”

I continue the questioning. He begins to lose patience he's worried about missing his meal the smell of food drifts up the corridor the clink of dishes but I press on relentlessly if suddenly he gets hungry and is short with the prosecution he'll be eating his meals in prison for the rest of his life.

Finally I'm done. I'm getting hungry too. We stand facing each other. Did he or didn't he? God knows. But I have to be tough with him to spring him from here.

“Do you need anything? Is there anything that you'd like?”

He thinks it over and asks me to arrange to get him out for the night of the seder he wants to be with his parents they'll be lonely without him.

He's too much. Behind that hard-nosed exterior he's so innocent I could plotz. He's barely been in jail for three months and already he wants a vacation.

“Forget it. But maybe you could invite your parents to have the seder here with you in prison. It will be an unforgettable experience for them to hear some rapist sing the Four Questions.”

I begin to hum the tune to myself.

His fists ball in anger. Did he or didn't he? Meanwhile it's my duty to defend him as well and as cunningly as I can.