Once We Were Brothers Read Online Free PDF

wine. “And the money’s good.”
    “He was happy to have you because he got a damn good lawyer for an associate’s salary.”
    “He bought damaged goods, Liam.”
    He shook his head and took a bite of scallops. “Anyway did you ever stop to consider how this so-called survivor of the concentration camps comes to America after the war, penniless, but within a very short time he’s one of the richest dudes in town?”
    She nodded her head. “You have a point.”
    “What if Ben could prove Rosenzweig stole his property? What if Ben had some proof?”
    “Other than his recognition of Rosenzweig on the television? What kind of proof could he have, Liam? After all these years.”
    Liam shrugged. “I don’t know.”
    “Even if there were proof and a pot of money at the end of the rainbow, it’s not the kind of case my firm would ever let me take on. It’s political suicide. Rosenzweig’s an icon. For Solomon to build a case, one that can withstand the blizzard of motions Rosenzweig will bring, he’d need a crusader, with strong financial backing and eager young minds – like a law school clinic.” She took another sip of wine. “Kids have no fear. I have a career.”
    “What kind of proof would he need?”
    Catherine counted the elements on her fingers. “First, he’d have to prove that Otto Piatek actually existed and was a Nazi. Second, he’d have to come forward with some kind of evidence identifying the specific stolen property. Third, he’d have to show that Piatek appropriated and converted that property in derogation of the rights of the Solomons. And finally, he’d have to make the connection – prove that Elliot Rosenzweig is in fact Otto Piatek.”
    “Can I bring Ben to see you again?”
    “Liam, please. I told you we can’t take it in.”
    “Not to take it in, just to evaluate it and see if you can find him someone to represent him. Will you listen to his story? See if there’s a case?”
    “You’re putting me in a tough spot, Liam. I have a job and partners to answer to. I submit my time records at the end of each day. How do I account for hours spent with Ben Solomon?”
    He nodded his head in resignation. “I understand. Never mind.”
    Three servers wheeled a linen-draped cart to the table and set silver-domed dishes before Catherine and Liam. On cue, the covers were raised, revealing an almond-crusted rack of lamb on one side and a plate of wild striped bass on the other. “Bon appetit,” they chorused.
    After a few bites, Catherine said, “Mmm. Divine.” She looked at Liam expecting to see a similar reaction, but noticed that he hadn’t even tasted his dinner.
    “You really care about this Solomon, don’t you?” she said.
    “I do. I don’t know why – ‘cause he’s a little guy – ‘cause maybe I think he’s telling the truth, and no one will listen to him. Cat, nobody would invent such an accusation. It’s just a feeling I have, that maybe…ah, never mind.”
    “Why do I let you do this to me?” Catherine said, setting down her fork. “Stop looking like a scolded puppy. I’ll talk to him, okay? You can bring him by next Wednesday afternoon. I’ll find some time and I’ll evaluate his case for you. If there’s anything there, I’ll call Richard Tryon at the U. S. Attorney’s office or I’ll try to find a clinic to help him. But, bottom line, I want him to tell me what kind of proof he has. Proof, Liam. Solid proof. The kind you could bring into court.”
    Liam beamed. “Thanks, Cat.”

II. Ben Solomon’s Story

Chapter Nine
     
    Zamość, Poland 1933
    “In the early 1930s I was a child growing up in southern Poland, in a town called Zamość. I had a warm and loving family. My father’s name was Abraham. My mother’s name was Leah. God rest their souls. We lived in a three-story home in the Jewish quarter of the city.”
    Ben sat at one end of the conference table with his hands wrapped around a mug of steaming tea. At the other end sat Catherine,