Chapter Five
“And the Philistine said: ‘I defy the ranks of Israel
this day; give me a man, that we may fight together.”
Tammi looked at Ro’el, leaning on her elbow, her hand resting on her cheek.
She was thirty-four years old, but since she maintained a healthy lifestyle and kept active, she always looked younger than her age.
Indeed, she felt like a young girl though, lately, when she glanced in the mirror, she began to notice that her real age was closing the gap.
The café’s ambience momentarily created a pleasant feeling that spread throughout her body and her face reflected this optimism.
Here she is on a cold and rainy day in a nice, warm café near the lake, in the company of a stranger—a man who is reading to her a novel he has written.
The tall girl with the long straight hair at the nearby table abandoned her cup of tea and her girlfriend stood up and walked towards the ladies’ room, swinging her butt provocatively. Ro’el observed her keenly.
“There you go. See, all men are the same!” Tammi stated, sounding vexed.
Ro’el turned his eyes back to her. “Even those who write novels?”
“All men!” she refused to back down. “I wouldn’t at all be surprised if your novel is no more than a trap to help you impress the ladies.”
“I’m married,” he said.
“So where’s your ring?” she continued defiantly, unaware of all he had been through the day before.
His voice remained calm, but his eyes were sorrowful.
“You know, the second sentence you chose to say to me when you approached me this morning was that today, of all days, your car got stuck. As if hinting that there was something significant about today, that car trouble now could turn it into an especially gloomy day.” He glanced at his watch; it was seven minutes past ten.
“And after just half an hour of our acquaintanceship, you present me with an axiom that cannot be contradicted, stating that all men are the same, that they are all skirt-chasers and sex maniacs.”
“It’s a law of nature. Don’t pretend to be na?ve,” she shrugged her shoulders.
“Perhaps it is, but I tend to think that there is a connection between the two—the fact that today is a special day, that cannot include a broken-down car, and your principled anger towards men.”
He said no more but continued to look at her. She didn’t respond and his eyes signaled that it was now her turn to speak. “You introduced yourself as a lawyer. You didn’t tell me that you also have a Master’s degree in psychology.”
“Criminal lawyers spend a lot of time with clients who are behind bars. Think about it, they need to be attentive to matters of the soul as well. Familiarity with the law and with court rulings isn’t enough. And you still haven’t answered me,” he insisted.
“Answered what?” she evaded him.
“Is there a connection between the two?”
“You’re not in court at the moment and I’m not on the witness stand,” she wanted to clarify the rules of the game to him. Her face lost its softness and clearly his interest in the matter agitated her.
“You don’t have to give me any answers, but you are the one who approached me; it was you who sat down at my table and began a conversation with me. If you don’t want to continue, we can stop here.”
She expelled air through her pressed lips and stared into space. “My boyfriend and I broke up yesterday, after four years together,” she blurted out, “and my shitty car is full of carton boxes that I have to bring over to my friend, Inbal. I’m going to move in with her for a while.”
He remained silent, not finding the right words to say. “Maybe your car isn’t that shitty, maybe it too is having a hard time adjusting to the new circumstances and doesn’t want to reach Inbal…”
“It too?”
“Like you…”
She glanced at her faded corduroy bag despondently. “I feel chilly…” she said sadly. She raised her hand, signaling the barman to come over. After ordering a cup of hot tea, she said, “Shall we continue with the story?”
Ro’el picked up the tattered yellow pad and continued reading from where he had left off.
***
People crowded into the small courtroom on the fourth floor of Tel Aviv’s District Court to hear evidence of Case No.
4788764/09, The State of Israel vs. Cohen.
Many attorneys were there, along with legal reporters, curious citizens, as well as Attorney Rafael Weissman.
He sat in the back, observing Yiftach Posner, the young attorney he had taken under his wing.
The defendant, Maor Cohen, was being held in custody until his trial.
In this case, it was suspected that Cohen was the mercenary who had come to the Jaffa apartment where the murder had occurred, and it was he who shot two bullets from a short Beretta pistol that mistakenly killed the daughter of the assassination target.
Cohen was whispering with his attorney, Yaacov Biton, as he sat on the defendant’s bench, handcuffed to a woman officer and a policeman.
The presiding judge appeared to be about fifty years old.
His thinning grey hair was combed over to the side in an attempt to conceal his shiny bald head.
His wise, brown eyes gazed through the thick lenses of his glasses.
He turned to Attorney Biton. “Where is this leading to?” he asked.
“To the fact that my client does not possess the mental component of ‘premeditation’—as is required for a conviction of the offense of premeditated murder—for he had no intention of killing the deceased. Therefore,” the learned attorney continued, “the complainant would be wise to drop charges based on this preposterous allegation, as warranted by Section 93 of the Criminal Procedure Law, and stop wasting our time, and especially the precious time of this court.” He swung his arms out in wide, exaggerated movements.
“Your Honor,” Yiftach stood up quickly.
“Yes, Attorney Posner?” the judge responded in a dull tone.
“If there was any truth to my colleague’s words, we would then ask the court to amend the indictment and change the offense from ‘murder’ to ‘manslaughter,’ but my colleague’s words are totally unfounded.” Biton shot Yiftach a stern look.
“In Amendment No. 39 of the Penal Code,” Yiftach continued confidently, “with which my colleague is certainly well acquainted, Section 2 was added to Clause 20C of the law…” Yiftach searched for the right page in the Book of Statutes, “stating that ‘it makes no difference whether the act was done to another person or to another’s property other than that for which the act was intended.’ With this amended clause, the legislator sought to clarify that when a criminal is mistaken in identifying his victim, the criminal intent passes from the person he intended to harm to the victim whom he actually harmed.
In our view, which we will prove before this honorable court with our list of witnesses and the body of evidence we have gathered, the defendant unflinchingly devised a monstrous plan whose objective was to murder the father of the deceased, and the criminal intent essential to this aim undoubtedly consolidated in his mind.
His malicious plan miscarried and, instead of harming the person he had targeted, he harmed that person’s daughter and caused her death.
In accordance with the above-mentioned Section 20C (2), the necessary criminal intent therefore transfers from the victim whom he intended to harm—the father—to the victim whom he actually harmed—the daughter—and, therefore, the required mental component definitely exists in our case. ”
Attorney Posner’s first court appearance, in his new position with the State Attorney’s Office, was a success.
He seemed self-assured, trustworthy, articulate, knowledgeable, smart and especially—out to win.
Yet, there was something about his eyes—not easily defined—that seemed to be dulled.
When the court session ended, Biton came up to Yiftach.
“Can I be blunt with you?” Biton asked.
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing till now?” Yiftach replied.
Biton smiled slyly. “Let me be frank with you, my friend. I’ve been authorized to enter into a plea bargain with you.”
“And I’ve been mandated to respond that there will be no plea bargain here. We’re going with this all the way, especially when murderers of children are involved!”
“Yiftach!” Weissman called out to him after most of the crowd in the courtroom had already left.
“Rafi…” Yiftach was taken by surprise, and quickly shook Biton off, “I didn’t see you. Were you here for the entire court session?”
Weissman shook his head from side to side. “I just arrived, I was in court with Judge Resnick and vaguely remembered that you too are in Tel Aviv today. I thought of inviting you to lunch, and we’ll return to the office together. I have my car here.”
“Sounds good to me, certainly better than returning by train and eating leftovers warmed in the microwave…” Yiftach fully understood that Weissman had been in the courtroom from the very start of the session in order to personally observe his new attorney’s litigation skills.