“Which kibbutz is that?” he asked.
“Regavim. Near Caesaria.”
He nodded, as he had heard of it, though he never visited there. “If I remember correctly from your CV, you did your internship in Tel Aviv. So would it be fair to say that your career got the upper hand over your love of the kibbutz?”
“Nothing can beat my love for the kibbutz,” she shook her head from side to side. “However, it was important for me to get to know myself better, to know that I am capable of spreading my wings and move to the ‘Tel Aviv swamp’ and manage on my own in the fast-paced world outside. But also, I wanted to start anew. My life at the kibbutz was in a rut at the time.” A twinge of sadness nipped at her heart and it amplified the beauty of her eyes. Clearly, modesty was deeply embedded in her character. If there was one thing she wished for more than anything else (besides her desire to see Eitan again), it was to destroy the walls of modesty and goodness that encompassed her.
“Okay,” Yiftach said, trying to grant the conversation a more professional, definitive tone, “so you decided to go out into the world, you packed a bag and wandered all the way to Tel Aviv. Why?”
“I was accepted as an intern at the Agam-Rozner law firm.”
Like an intrigued coyote, Yiftach stretched his neck upon hearing the name of this excellent firm, but suddenly he understood—all the candidates he met had completed their internship at various criminal law firms, but these firms had decided to discontinue employing those attorneys. How frustrating, he thought, here I am, about to recruit a candidate that others considered not good enough for them, and those ‘others’ are the ones I will be fighting in court. “Melody, tell me,”he squinted, looking serious, “why did the Agam-Rozner firm decide to terminate your employment?”
She smiled hesitantly. “They begged me to stay, and promised me a high salary and excellent perks from the first year.”
“And you rejected their offer? Agam-Rozner’s offer?” He wanted to be sure he understood correctly, knowing there was no way he could compete with the conditions they had offered her.
“Yes,” she stared for a moment into space, recalling without regret, “I couldn’t continue representing the ‘bad guys.’” Yiftach leaned back in his chair.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued before he could say a word. “I know how trite it sounds.” Her shoulders slumped and she retreated into herself. “I’m sure all the other candidates you met gave you the same answer, the same cliché, but Attorney Posner—and you can believe me or not—I’ve had my fill of justifying tax evaders, money launderers and other people of power, and working for them. I want to be on the other side, the side of the prosecution, to protect the victims, not to work for the perpetrators, and I believe that my internship at Agam-Rozner gives me a significant advantage.”
“What advantage is that?” he asked, impressed by her response.
“I worked closely with Attorney Rozner for many months. I am quite familiar with the work methods of one of the country’s most senior criminal attorneys—how he thinks, how he prepares for cross-examinations, where he places the emphasis, what he tends to ignore, how he evaluates his chances of winning, and especially, what he is afraid of. ‘Know thy enemy,’ that’s a real advantage, isn’t it?”
“How close was your work with Rozner?” Yiftach asked out of curiosity, but suddenly felt that perhaps it was an inappropriate question.
“Wait…” she remembered and pulled out of her bag a letter ofrecommendation written by none other than the great Rozner himself.
After reading the warm, sincere recommendation, Yiftach asked: “Rotem is a 24-year-old man who works as a counselor at a children’s camp. Now, let’s assume that one evening, while the campers were out on an outing, Rotem convinced one of the boys, Ido, fifteen years old, to join him and they left the regular route without anyone noticing that they had gone. In a dark, isolated place, Rotem committed acts of sodomy on Ido. Several days later, Ido’s parents noticed that their son had become melancholy, quiet and withdrawn. Eventually, Ido was able to overcome his fear of talking with his parents, and he revealed to them what Rotem had done. Melody, tell me please, how much time, if at all, exceeds the statute of limitations on the offense committed by Rotem on Ido?”
Melody didn’t seem frightened by the question put to her by the intelligent interviewer, and began thinking out loud. “If the issue at hand were not considered a sex offense, like theft for instance, committed against the minor, Ido, the statute of limitations would begin from the moment the offense was committed, that is, when he was fifteen years old. But, since this is a sex offense, the hourglass on the statute of limitations would begin to run, presumably, only from the moment Ido turned eighteen....” She looked directly at Yiftach, but he remained poker-faced and she couldn’t decipher anything. He prayed that she wouldn’t fall into the first trap he had set for her. “However, the law regarding a sex offense committed against a minor by a family member or a person responsible for the victim, has since been amended, and now the statute of limitations is exceeded only after the minor reaches the age of twenty-eight.”
Yiftach remained silent, not providing any clues. “However, acts of sodomy, under the circumstances that you described,” she began focusing on a precise response, “are a criminal offenseupon which the statute of limitations applies only after ten years, and the timeframe begins to tick, as I mentioned, only when Ido turns twenty-eight. Hence, an indictment can be served until Ido reaches the age of thirty-eight. Now Ido is fifteen and, therefore, the statute of limitations for the offense will end only twenty-three years from the day it occurred.”
A smile spread across Yiftach’s face and for a moment he said nothing.
“Okay, thank you, Melody. I believe that’s enough for now. One last thing. If we hire you, will you be willing to move from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem to avoid the daily traffic jams? That is, will you continue to postpone your return to the kibbutz that you love so much?”
“I never said I was planning to return to the kibbutz,” she said, surprised.
“Perhaps not, but some things don’t need to be put into words.”
She lowered her head sadly and said in a cracked voice: “In October, a year-and-a-half from now, I’ll return to the kibbutz for one day. It will be after three years that I haven’t visited there,” she said and fell silent.
“And then what?” he asked her, fascinated by the words she was barely able to get out.
She raised her head and their eyes met. “And then—either I’ll stay there forever, or I will never go back again.”
He pursed his lips, knowing he mustn’t pursue this further. “Thank you,” he said.
She stood up and grabbed her bag. “Thank you for your time, Attorney Posner.”
“Have a nice day,” he added.
“I will,” she smiled. “This evening, some girlfriends are coming over. You know how it is, we’ve all just now finished our internships and, until we find a good job, we find comfort in our evenings together… she said and blushed, sensing that her laststatement was totally uncalled for. “Again, thank you, ciao for now,” she said and was about to walk out.
“Till when is this girls’ night going to continue? I mean, you’re not planning to go to sleep late, are you?”
