It was past midnight when the phone rang. My heart skipped a beat. Any call at this hour, unless it was a wrong number, was obviously urgent. I glanced at the screen; it was my brother Nachman.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked quickly.
“Everyone’s fine,” my brother reassured me. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“I was actually still up,” I replied. “Motty had a wedding and I’m waiting for him to come home. But why in the world are you calling now? Have you forgotten the time difference between Israel and America?”
“Actually,” my brother said before pausing, “I need help.”
“Help?” I asked in surprise.
I wondered how I could help him. I was the youngest in the family, recently married and now living in Israel. My brother was already married when I was born and was now a grandfather several times over as well as a successful businessman. “Sure,” I said. “But how?”
“I’m in trouble with the law,” he stated. “They think I cooked the books.”
“You?” I asked, shocked. My brother was one of the straightest, most honest people I ever met. And I should know, because I’d worked for him for five years as his company’s bookkeeper. He was an extremely scrupulous person. Every transaction was documented and every worker was fully on the books. He wouldn’t lie or do anything remotely shady even if you paid him.
My brother sighed. “It’s a long story. But basically I fired my accountant because I caught him doing some stuff he shouldn’t have been doing. Another company he once worked for brought charges against him. To save his skin, he gave the prosecutor a list of companies he worked for that he claimed cooked their books in order to avoid paying taxes. So now I’m being investigated.”
“That’s terrible!” I said. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, right now I’m in the middle of a legal mess trying to prove my innocence,” he said with a sigh. “I need your help.”
“Sure,” I replied. “I’d do anything to help you.”
“My lawyer wants to speak to you,” my brother explained. “We have to submit papers in two days, and we need your input; and also for you to sign an affidavit. I need you to be in my lawyer’s office in Manhattan tomorrow. Can you take the next flight to New York?”
I didn’t expect that. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’ll pay your ticket, of course. You’re crucial to this case because you were my bookkeeper during the time that he was my accountant. You can be home within 48 hours. I’ll pick you up from the airport and drive you straight back after we’re done.”
“I’ll do it,” I said.
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