Epilogue
THE FOLLOWING PASSOVER
CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS,
SEVEN MONTHS LATER: APRIL 2000
“This seder is a lot better than last year’s,” Max said, lifting his wineglass. “To Abe Ringel, the greatest lawyer since the original Abraham.”
“Cut it out, Max. Clients like you make my job a pleasure, though I must admit there were some nail-biting days.”
It was a grand seder, reminding Max of the Menuchen tradition in the old country. In addition to Abe, Rendi, Emma, and Max—all of whom had been at last year’s eventful seder—there were the younger Max and his new wife, Rachel. Rachel was the granddaughter of a survivor who had remained in Warsaw after the war. She had been a longtime friend of the younger Max, but the friendship had quickly blossomed into a romance and then marriage when Max returned to Poland after the trial. Now she was pregnant and expecting a baby. They were deciding whether to make their home in the United States or in Israel.
The older Max, too, was considering a return to Israel after he retired from Harvard at the end of the semester. He had accepted a one-year position as visiting scholar at Hebrew University.
Only Emma was alone, having broken up with Jacob shortly after the trial. Although Abe was upset at the breakup, Max was pleased that Emma was opening herself to new relationships.
“Come visit me in Israel for the summer,” Max suggested. “There are lots of audacious young men there who will make you forget Jacob.”
“No way,” Abe answered, not giving Emma a chance. “I want her here in Cambridge. Why don’t you come work for me this summer?” he implored her. “I’ll assign you only innocent defendants.”
“No way, Daddy. I’ve had it with criminal law. It’s too gruesome. There’s too much pain all around and too little justice.”
“Didn’t your father’s advocacy in Max’s case restore some of your faith in the practice of criminal law?”
“Maybe, but I’m still turned off on criminal law. I need something that makes me feel good every day.”
“What’s Angie doing this summer?” Rendi asked.
“I was afraid you might ask that,” Emma said sheepishly.
“I knew it,” Abe shot back. “She’s working for Cravath. Wall Street. I knew it.”
“Worse. She’s going to Hollywood. An entertainment law firm. They represent Leonardo DiCaprio, Michael Jackson, John Grisham—all the hot stars. She’s really psyched. Wants to produce films. I got an offer from the same firm. I was tempted. It’s not real enough for me.”
“So, what other offers do you have?” Rendi asked.
“Women’s Basketball League. Lawyer, not player, unfortunately. Also, not real enough. And it would remind me of Joe Campbell.”
“Come on, work with me, sweetie,” Abe pleaded. “I’ll give up my criminal practice and become a civil lawyer, just for you.”
“You’re sounding desperate, Daddy. Bad advocacy.”
“So what are you thinking about doing this summer?” Rendi asked.
“I have an offer to work with Professor Stith as a research assistant. She wants to recommend me to the Supreme Court Justice she clerked for. She told me she thought I would make a great law clerk.”
“You would make a great anything, sweetie. What would you be working on with Professor Stith?”
“I’ll be writing an article entitled ‘A Disloyal Daughter Reveals All the Dirty Little Secrets of Her Defense Lawyer Father.’ ”
“You wouldn’t,” Abe shot back.
“Just kidding, Daddy. Your secrets are always safe with me,” Emma replied, hugging her father. “As long as you stick to defending the good guys like Uncle Max.”
The seder reunion continued with the older Max telling stories, the younger Max drinking a few too many toasts, and Abe continuing to banter with Emma about her future. Although the seder was more reunion than religion, Abe insisted on covering the important rituals.
“It’s time to welcome Elijah. You’re on, Emma.”
As Emma rose from the seder table to open the door, she cast a worried look in Max’s direction, wondering how he would react. Max smiled and said, “Go ahead, Emma. The ghosts are all gone. Only Elijah is out there now.”
Emma opened the door to the cold night air.
A tall blond man wearing a raincoat was standing in the light drizzle. Emma, startled, jumped back. Max saw the face of the man and moved quickly toward Emma.
The man at the door was Paul Prandus. He spoke: “I was waiting outside until your celebration was over. I thought you would all be together tonight. I did not want to intrude, but I must speak to all of you.” Paul looked at Max, who was standing between him and Emma.
“You saved my life. You are not an intruder,” the old man said coldly, motioning Paul into the house.
“I want to forgive you for what you did to my father,” Paul said in a near whisper. “And I want to ask you to forgive me for what I thought about doing to you if the jury had found you not guilty.”
“What did you think of doing?” Max asked.
“I was prepared to kill you,” Paul said flatly. “In my heart, I was guilty of murder. Then, after the jury deadlocked, I experienced a hung jury in my own mind. That’s when I understood that a hung jury was exactly the right verdict. No one could be of one mind about what happened. The law is a blunt instrument. It is not refined enough for a case like this one.”
Max nodded. “I, too, came to realize that a hung jury was the correct verdict. I did not deserve to be found innocent. Nor did I deserve to be found guilty. I was legally guilty, but I do not believe I was morally guilty.”
Paul shook his head in agreement as Max looked deeply into his eyes and said, “You are not Marcelus Prandus. You I can forgive.”
“Thank you,” Paul said, lowering his head. “Your forgiveness is important to me. I hope I can also be forgiven for what I said and thought about you,” Paul said, looking first in the direction of Abe and then Emma. They each nodded their heads.
“I must ask you one question, if I may,” Max said. “If you were prepared to kill me, why did you bring the Marrano chalice into the courtroom?”
“Because it belonged to your family, not mine. No matter what I might want to do to you, I could not keep it. It would always remind me of what my father had done to your family.”
Standing awkwardly, Paul remained silent as everyone looked at him, each thinking private thoughts. Then, as the older Max walked in the direction of the door to open it for Paul to leave, Paul walked over to the younger Max and said, “I want to know my brother.”
There was an awkward silence in the room. Then the younger Max stood up and took Paul’s hand in both of his. Quietly he said, “My brother.”
The older Max lifted the Marrano chalice and handed it to the younger Max. “I want you to have this. It is a Menuchen family heirloom, and you are the future of the Menuchen family. Pass it on to your child, and to your grandchildren. But first,” the older Max said, “let us drink to the future, without ever forgetting the past.”
He filled the wine goblet and passed it around. Paul Prandus took the last sip.
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