“I can’t stop thinking about the mothers of those poor kids on those boats, killed right in Boston Harbor, where you’d think your son or daughter would be safe. It could have been Adam on those Coast Guard boats. And for you to be defending the people who did that killing, I can’t understand it, Ben. I simply can’t understand it. What would you say to the mother of that girl who was killed, the one in the Coast Guard?”
He looked at her, assuming her question was rhetorical and that there was more of the same to follow. More likely, he thought, it could have been Adam on those refugee ships. He didn’t dare say that to her. Sally went on.
“My God, Ben, what if you win? You’re such a good lawyer, you always win. What if you win? What if you get these killers off? What will people say? How will we live with that? What about me? What about Adam? Have you thought about any of that, Mr. Civil Rights?”
Shapiro’s normal means of dealing with his wife’s anger was to give in. That tactic didn’t leave him satisfied, but it brought their conflicts to an end. Submission squirmed in his belly. He resisted. Not this time, he thought.
Sally usually won. If she outlasted him. She fired her next salvo.
“It’s already happening, you know. You are just so caught up that you are oblivious to what is happening, happening even to your own son, you know?”
“What do you mean,” he asked. “What’s happening? Did something happen to Adam?”
“Yes. Something. Happened. To. Adam,” Sally said, pausing between each word. “You were on the news again the other night. I know you say you don’t watch yourself on the news because it’s no big deal. But you were on the news a few days ago, another story about you defending that Jew who murdered the Coast Guard people. And they said you said it was all a misunderstanding and your client had nothing to do with anything.
“Well, there was a memorial service at Adam’s school for the Coast Guard people who were killed. And the principal, Mr. Williams—remember him? You once said he was a wonderful principal. Well, Mr. Williams gave a speech. And he said that the lawyer for the murderers said it was just a ‘misunderstanding.’” She lifted both hands in the air, two fingers extended to place quotation remarks around the word.
“And then the principal said that anybody who defends a murderer of Americans is as guilty as the murderers themselves. Well, after that some of the kids started talking about how Adam’s father was the lawyer defending that murderer Jew. And I guess they started pushing him around and he got pushed to the ground and somebody kicked him and he came home from school with his clothes all torn, and he was crying like I’ve never heard him cry before. He said they kept calling him a Jew. That is what you are doing to your family. And you didn’t even know about this because you came home so late we were in bed.”
She glared at Shapiro. Scored some points with that one, she thought. If he doesn’t care about hurting me, he stills cares about his son. Sally Spofford was not a woman to stop when she was winning.
“And, well, I wasn’t going to tell you this, but some of my friends have been talking, too. You know the Rodger’s dinner party we were supposed to go to next weekend, their anniversary party that they made such a big deal about?”
“Yes, what about it?”
“Janice Rodgers called me and, oh so politely of course, you know how totally proper Janice is, suggested that perhaps it would be a good idea if we skipped the party. Because of all that’s happening, she said, as if that’s supposed to explain everything.”
Shapiro pushed his chair back, walked to the other side of the table and opened his arms to invite his wife to hug. She remained seated, folded her arms across her chest and shook her head from side to side.
“I’m sorry, Sally,” Shapiro said. “I didn’t know about any of this. Why didn’t you tell me about Adam, or about that party? I know how much you were looking forward to that party. You bought a new dress and everything.”
Contrition got him nowhere.
“I didn’t tell you about Adam because this is the first night since it happened that you’ve come home before I went to bed. You may have noticed that we haven’t seen much of each other recently. In fact, when is the last time you saw your son awake? And I didn’t tell you about the party because”—she hesitated, then continued—“because what Janice actually said was that it might be a good idea if you—you, Ben—didn’t come. She said that of course I was still welcome. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do. At least I hadn’t decided until right now. I just decided that I am going to the party. By myself. I’ll expect you to be home to babysit your son.”
“If that’s what you want to do, then go ahead and do it,” Shapiro said. “I can’t say I understand, but I guess there isn’t a whole lot I can do about it.”
He turned his back to his wife and started to walk from the room. She spoke to his back. He stopped and turned.
“Ben, what I don’t understand is how this one case, this one client, is taking over your life. Can’t you please back off from this case?”
Shapiro hesitated, stared at the ceiling.
“Actually, Sally, it isn’t just one case,” he said, instantly realizing that he was opening the door to another storm. “I’m representing a few other people, too, some people who were arrested that night from their homes. There’s a legal committee that was formed to defend all those people who are in custody.”
Her reaction was what he’d expected, a flash of lightning followed by dark clouds.
“A legal committee? So what if there is a committee of some sort?” Sally asked. “Are you involved in that, representing all those Israelis, the soldiers who were on those ships? No, no, no, tell me you’re not doing that, Ben.”
“Actually, they asked me to be the head of the defense committee. And I agreed to do it. That’s what’s kept me so busy the last few days, and nights. Honey, a tzadik? You know, a truly righteous man—”
She jumped to her feet, waving her hands in front of her face to cut him off.
“I can’t take this. I’m going up to read. You can do the dishes. Good night.”
When Shapiro slowly climbed those same stairs two hours later, he found the door closed and his pajamas on the floor in the hall.
As he pulled into his parking space in the garage next to the John F. Kennedy Federal Building in downtown Boston the next morning, Shapiro recalled that he was scheduled to meet Judy Katz for lunch that day. He was intrigued by the idea of meeting the young woman who he’d read about in the newspapers but never run into. He laughed at himself when he thought that from the photos in the newspapers, she was a real hottie, at least for a lawyer.
He was surprised at how disappointed he was to find an email from the young Assistant US Attorney saying she was going to take a few days off. Could they meet for lunch next week, she asked.
CHAPTER 26
Nancy Lowenstein’s suspicions that something deliciously mysterious was up with the people staying in her Brooklin cottage increased when Sarah Goldberg-Goldhersh called to ask Nancy to have the boatyard launch her thirty-two-foot motor boat for her guests to use.
“They only need it for one night,” Sarah said. “But please have the boatyard fill the fuel tank and make sure the engine is okay.”
Lowenstein, sure by now she was part of something clandestine, called the Brooklin Boat Yard as soon as Sarah hung up.
The next day, Levi and Abram Goldhersh powered up the twin 250-horsepower Honda outboards on the Lowensteins’Boston Whaler Outrage and motored away from the boatyard at little more than an idle. Goldhersh had never been on a boat, any boat. Levi gave him a crash course in boat handling.