Authors: Gene Grossman
Before trying the usual cure of standing in the shower for about thirty minutes, I decide to request that a little homework be done. I send an e-mail to our office manager requesting all the information that could be dug up on Doctor Sherman Gault, his wife, daughter, everything. By the time I get out of the shower, there’s an answer on my flat-panel screen. How this happened so fast is almost as amazing as the facts uncovered.
Apparently, the gang in the forward cabin has inadvertently been receiving copies of e-mails that were being sent to doctor Gault’s boat. This was probably due to a glitch in the wireless network our boat neighbor Don Paige had set up that all of us on the dock shared. I don’t know if our messages were being sent to anyone else, but that’s not the issue now, nor do I care. What’s important now is what those accidentally intercepted messages to doc’s boat reveal. They include several royalty statements for the doc’s wife, Robin Gault, who was a successful writer of self-help books. It also reveals invoices and payment receipts from a convalescent home on Catalina Island where she had been a resident for these past years.
Armed with this information, I feel a little better about the dinner I’m going to. It will probably still have its awkward moments, but there’s a good possibility that with enough concentrated effort, I may be able to avoid making a complete fool out of myself again, at least tonight.
I decide not to waste time returning the defense lawyer’s call on Stuart’s case until tomorrow and instead get ready for the evening on doc’s boat.
The dinner looks delicious, and it is. Ditto for the daughter. She sits as close to me as possible, never letting go of my hand. It’s a good thing it isn’t the hand I eat with. She looks like she’s been crying, but lets me know that she’s okay now. Her mother’s death was something that had been expected, but dreaded for several years. Doc goes on to explain that when she was first diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, they couldn’t believe it. She was so bright, so creative, so successful in writing, public speaking and counseling people with their problems. They were certain that the diagnosis was wrong. But as the months and then years went on, it became apparent that the diagnosis was correct. Due to her pride and love for her family, while still lucid, she requested that she be placed in the convalescent home on Catalina Island. They had made many trips over there over the years, and she thought it would be an ideal place to live out the rest of her life, at least the part she could still appreciate.
Doc and Rita both argued against the idea and wanted her to stay at home. Money was no object, and they offered to hire professional caregivers around the clock when the situation called for it. But no, she wouldn’t have it. One of her concerns was the loss of her public image as a brilliant writer. She feared that having that disease would cause her reputation to diminish and cause a loss of royalties that were supposed to go into a trust fund for her daughter and future grandchildren. No, she just wanted to have the public know that she was retired and wanted to live the remainder of her life in privacy. To make sure that her remaining years went uninterrupted, doc purchased the land that the convalescent home was situated on. That way, he could be certain that she’d be allowed to stay there in privacy for the rest of her life.
At first the public tended to accept her announced desire for privacy, but as time went on, curious investigative reporters, always looking for that sensational celebrity item for a ‘where are they now’ type of story, continually failed to find her. That absence of a satisfactory explanation created a vacuum that the press filled in with rumors about possible foul play. The newly elected district attorney was looking for a new cause to bolster his future political career, and the prosecution of prominent Doctor Sherman Gault for the murder and disappearance of his wife seemed to be just the right opportunity.
This must have placed doc in an untenable situation. In order to easily clear his name he would be forced to violate his beloved wife’s trust and secrecy.
If memory serves me correctly, he hired the first real ‘dream team’ to defend him, and it worked. The jury was hung (meaning they couldn’t reach a unanimous decision) and the district attorney, then embarrassed but too involved with newer cases to re-file, decided not to try the case again and the doctor got off.
It’s a stunning testament to this man’s love for his wife that he allowed himself to be put through the criminal justice system and then constant district attorney harassment until his license was suspended, all to protect her desire for privacy and to live out her life in peace. That’s why he bought the boat - so he and Rita could go over to the Island to visit with her. I look at both of them in a different light now and promise that I’ll do everything I can to help them process the insurance claim.
I instruct our office to send out the usual letters putting the insurance company on notice that we will be presenting the claim, and that in the event they were planning on contesting it, that we were prepared to disclose a burial site and provide DNA samples that their lab can analyze for positive identification purposes. I don’t mention the Alzheimer’s or Catalina Island at this point, thinking it not wise to tip too much of our hand at this early stage. If the insurance company puts up a stink, we can always bring out more ammunition. I always like to feel that I know something that the other side doesn’t.
Being the consummate professional, doc tells me he informed the insurance company that if and when they ever pay his claim, they have been instructed automatically send me a check for five percent of the total payout. I tell him that isn’t necessary, but he insists, in view of the work I’ll no doubt be doing on this claim.
For a lawyer who specializes in criminal defense, I’m spending a lot of time dealing with insurance companies. Proof of this is the fact that my own carrier sent me a letter about their looking into my old boat’s fire. I decide that I’ll send whatever settlement comes in for that to Myra. I’ve had enough fun tormenting her over the past months and she deserves someone doing something nice for her.
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The dinner last night was nice, but now it’s time to get back to work on my favorite client’s matter, so I dial the asbestos defense firm’s number and get put right through to Charles Indovine, Sr.. When dealing with opposing counsel, it’s always a good idea to address them formally. If it’s going to turn into any less than a formal conversation, it should be their decision and not mine. My opening line is intended to sound formal, not too anxious, and with an irritated tone, indicating that this matter isn’t important to me and that I have other more important things to do.
Negotiations are all a game. The most important thing to remember is not to play checkers if the other guy is playing chess. My call finally is put through to the head man. “Indovine here.” The game is afoot.
“
Hello Mr. Indovine, this is Peter Sharp returning your phone call. What’s on your mind?”
“
Oh yes, Peter, I’m glad you called back.” Good sign, a first name response. That signals he wants something from me; let’s see what it is. I’ll try to avoid warming up, no matter how hard he tries. “You know, we were talking about your case, and I thought it would be a nice gesture towards your client if we could dispose of this matter without going through all the usual pre-trial procedures.” This is good. They must be afraid that Stuart will come walking into court looking like Osama bin Laden. I now feel that a settlement offer may be coming. “Peter, why don’t you tell us what it would take for us to make this matter go away?” Very smart approach. They want me to start the bidding for them. I might as well soften them up a little.
“
Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve been so busy with a capital case I’m working on, I haven’t had the time to give it much thought. Let’s see now, if my memory serves me correctly, the statute of limitations has already run for any other people to make claims like this against your client, so there’s no danger of your setting any precedent by settling a case based on a faith healer’s report, so I’d say we can probably dump this case for anything in the neighborhood of a million or two.” I’ve really never said that sentence to anyone before, and it feels very good. As expected, there’s nothing but silence on the other end of the phone. He recovers nicely.
“
Well, Peter, that’s a little more than we had in mind. Can we be a little more flexible on this one?” Fantastic! The mere fact that he didn’t go ballistic at the mention of several million-dollars may mean that Stuart might actually get more than fifty dollars out of this turkey of a case. Now the end game begins.
“
Mr. Indovine, you’re a senior partner in one of the most successful defense firms in the country. I’m not privy to your billing rates, but I would think it’s safe to say that after the first round of interrogatories and a deposition or two, your meter would probably be reading at least six figures, and if this case went to even a minimum one-week trial, your client would be looking at close to a million dollars in experts and legal fees even if he won the case, so I really don’t think that a million is out of the question. And, if your firm really insists, we can get the client out to some specialists for a consult, and with an expert’s medical report, you’ll be looking at exposure of several times that amount. I’ll tell you what: you’ve been a real professional with me and I appreciate your courteous conduct and honesty so far, so I’ll be willing to recommend that my client accept eight hundred thousand, but that’s about as far down as I would advise him to go.
My head is now racing. If he comes back with anything more than five hundred dollars, I might consider it, but my last response approached the genius level, so let’s see where he goes from there.
“
Peter, I appreciate your working with us. If you’ll recommend three quarters of a million to him, we can messenger the check and release form over this afternoon.” I’m struck speechless. This case was a loser from the get-go. After learning about the faith healer’s involvement in the diagnosis process I thought we’d never have a chance to recover the couple of hundred advanced for the filing fees and service of process. If this works, I may be making history. Seven hundred and fifty big ones with only a faith healer’s report to prove up the specials? I lose track of the time and don’t realize that Indovine is holding a silent phone waiting for my response. He finally brings me be back to reality. “Peter, are you there? Are you all right?” I wait another beat and then play out my final scene.
“
Yes, Indovine, I’m here, and I’m all right, sorry about that, I was just handed an important memo on some other case. As for the seven fifty you’re offering, we weren’t planning on going that low, but okay, send it over. I’ll recommend that he accept it. He gave me the final authority to settle, so it’s a deal.”
For some strange reason, the only thing I’m feeling at this moment is sympathy for my ex-wife. If she would’ve only been reasonable and hung in there for a while, we both could’ve shared all this. The sentimentality comes to an abrupt end when the phone rings again and the caller ID display shows my dear departed’s private office phone number.
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Hello sweetheart, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? Her response brings me be back down to earth. She’s not in a good mood today. Why am I not surprised?
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Don’t sweetheart me, you rotten crook. I just want to let you know that we’ve finally nailed you. The insurance company had a red flag on Mrs. Gault’s file and guess who’s name appeared with the filing of a claim? Yours, you ambulance-chasing sleazeball. I’m going to be on you like a cheap suit, and we’re going to put you and that murdering rat Gault behind bars, where you both belong!”
I’ve got nothing to lose now, so I might as well inquire. “So I guess dinner is out?”
My response doesn’t serve any purpose, because all I’m talking to now is a dial tone.
This is really unfortunate. It seems that there’s just no way to save her from herself. She’s under the spell of that nitwit boss of hers, and doesn’t even realize she’s been brainwashed. It must be like some sort of cult when you work in that district attorney’s office. Not only do I think she’s prosecuting the wrong guys in the parking lot murder, but she’s going to make another fool out of herself with the doc’s case too. I’m sorry, but I just can’t waste any more time worrying about her. Stuart’s settlement is on the way over here, and between dealing with him and processing the doc’s insurance claim, my plate is completely full for a while.
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Traffic to the boat has been getting heavier in the past week. Detectives are going in and out almost every other day, and now they’re bringing uniforms with them, and staying more than a few minutes in the forward stateroom. They’re also having conferences in the main saloon. It’s so crowded when Stuart shows up that we have to go topside to the enclosed flybridge. ”What’s going on here? What’re the police doing on your boat?” I don’t blame him for his curiosity. With all the cops hanging around, it looks like the boat is being raided for something.
“
Good question, Stu, I wish I had the answer. I think it’s some charity matter that Suzi’s organizing.” At this point he doesn’t know about the settlement of his case. When I called him, all he was told was that there might be some good news and that we should meet to talk about it.
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What’s up with the case, Pete? Do you think we’re going to ever get something out of it, or should I just forget about it and write a check out to my faith healer?”
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Relax, Stu, in a little while a messenger will be here with a settlement offer and I want to talk to you about how much the case is worth. First of all, how are you feeling? Have you been to the doctor? I mean, a regular one?”