Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

Raisins and Almonds 1
that he would kill Simon while he had a captive audience and
further envy, malice and all uncharitableness to spill. Phryne
pushed Mr. Abrahams forward.
‘You talk to him,’ she urged. ‘Get him to tell you how much
he hates you.’
‘Chaim?’ asked Mr. Abrahams. ‘What are you doing, brother?’
‘Brother?’ snarled Chaim. ‘What brother were you to me?
You married the woman I loved, you stole my business, and
you made me your slave. Find this, Chaim, fix this, Chaim, oh,
Chaim will do it! He’s got no head for business, Chaim, too
visionary, a luftmensch, but good on the day-to-day details, keep
the diary, arrange the appointments!’ His mockery was merciless
and instantly recognizable.
‘Chaim,’ said Benjamin Abrahams, ‘Chaim, please, we’re
mispocheh! We’re family!’
‘Bennie, we’re not related,’ snapped Chaim.
‘Then give me a great gift, stranger.’ Benjamin Abrahams sank
down onto his knees, eye to eye with his son. ‘Give me this life.’
‘I want you to mourn.’ Chaim’s voice was inhumanly gleeful,
and Phryne shivered. ‘“Oh, Absalom, my son, my son! Would
that I had died for thee,” that’s what I want for you, Bennie, I
want you to mourn.’
‘I will mourn,’ agreed Benjamin Abrahams. ‘I will mourn
the loss of my son. I will also mourn the loss of my brother,’
he said. ‘You want me to beg, Chaim? Here I am, begging. You
want my wife to leave me and go to you? She’s going right now.
You want my business, every penny I own? It’s yours. Only give
me my son, Chaim. Give me Simon.’
‘No,’ said Chaim. ‘You don’t mean it, brother. You mean to
fool me. Don’t you think I know that as soon as I let go of this
boy, the policeman will seize me? They’re out of sight but I know
they’re there. Get up, Bennie. Lead the way. We’re going out of
the market. Then you will drive me away in your big car.’
He hauled Simon to his feet and Phryne followed a grotesque,
horrible procession. Chaim kept his back to the shops
and sidled along, using Simon as a shield. Benjamin Abrahams