The Price of Candy (30 page)

Kagan stood at the head of the table. “Martin
Bronner, I’d like to introduce Sandra Reid.”

“How do you do?” Bronner stood stiffly with
feet together and made a very nice bow. He didn’t offer his hand
across the table. That part was okay with Sandy. She nodded and
smiled politely.

“Miss Reid, this is Mrs. Banks, Juanita
Banks.”

“How do you do? Mrs. Banks, I’m so sorry for
your loss.”

Juanita Banks didn’t nod and didn’t raise her
head to look at Sandy.

“Okay. Please be seated. Everyone get
comfortable.” Kagan settled in and continued, “Welcome Mrs. Banks,
nice to meet you, but I’m sure Mr. Bronner explained that it isn't
necessary for you to be here to Florida in person. He can easily
pursue this civil action for you by mail. Mainly a file of legal
papers passing back and forth. Important papers to be sure, but
nothing that can’t be handled by mail to you in Delaware. You may
not even have to appear in court.”

“I took the bus. I’ll drive Bruce’s pickup
back up to Delaware. How soon can I get the money?” Her slightly
accented voice was weak and uncertain. This wasn’t her type of
meeting.

“I tried to explain things to her, Jerry,”
Bronner said.

Martin Bronner was half Kagan’s age. Early
forties perhaps. Well-dressed to the extreme, right down to the
precisely folded suit pocket square which matched his soft blue
tie. Sandy thought he appeared far too elegant for a law office in
south Florida. She imagined her grandmother referring to him as a
“dandy.”

Mrs. Banks said, “I need to take the money
back as soon as possible.”

Sandy looked at Kagan with wide eyes. Kagan
looked at Bronner with a frown. Bronner looked at Juanita Banks
with an open but silent mouth.

“Don't you people understand? My husband’s
dead at forty leaving me with three children to take care of and no
money.”

Bronner didn’t know what to say.

“We have bills to pay—I’m not embarrassed to
say that—everyone has bills to pay. My husband had a small
insurance policy from his job. I used all of it to ship his body up
there and for the funeral expense. He won’t be bringing any more
money home now will he?”

Kagan glared at Bronner, waiting for him to
explain the situation to this woman. Finally, “Please tell her,
Martin.” Bronner didn’t know where to begin.

“Tell me what? You’re going to tell me there
is no money! Aren’t you? You’re going to tell me someone else gets
the money, or you lawyers get the money. I already owe Mr. Bronner
a thousand dollars which I don‘t have.” Her head went down and her
shoulders shuddered as she cried. She looked up angrily at Sandy.
“You’re going to tell me that woman sitting there kills my husband
and doesn’t have to pay me money.”

“For chrissake Bronner, talk to her,” Kagan
pleaded, then said, “Mrs. Banks a wrongful death suit doesn’t work
that way. It’s not that simple.”

“You mean I’m simple and you’re all
clever.”

Kagan stood, walked around the table, and sat
next to her. “Mrs. Banks you’re entitled to be compensated, to be
paid, for the wrongful death of your husband. There is no question
about it. But there’s no immediate money waiting here for you.
There may be some money eventually. Right now, we don’t know how
much or even where it might come from. Everything will be in the
hands of a judge and he is a very fair man. Mr. Bronner here will
go before the judge on your behalf and explain the situation. He’ll
explain to the judge how you were wronged. He’ll prove to the judge
exactly who is responsible. He’ll ask the judge to order that
person to pay you. If the person has any assets, any money, and if
Mr. Bronner can find it, then you’ll get it. This can take a long
time.”

“You’re a nice man and you’re letting me down
easy. You’re telling me to just sit and wait and trust all of you,
and I don’t know what to feed my kids tomorrow and they’re always
hungry.”

Sandy moved her chair closer. “Mrs.
Banks....”

“Don’t you talk to me! I can’t stand to look
at you. Why is she here? Why is she here?”

Bronner snapped, “She’s here because she’s
one of the people accused of causing your husband’s death. She’s
the one we’re going to go after and take every cent she has.”

Kagan said, “Bronner! You’re throwing
gasoline on the wrong fire. Miss Reid here is a victim herself.
Your target is Abigail Olin.”

“Not according to the state attorney. We
spoke to him this morning. Miss Reid here is named as a
co-conspirator for murder. Mr. Moran can prove prior animosity
toward Mr. Banks.”

“What animosity?” Juanita Banks asked.

“Someone made up a story I wanted your
husband dead. I certainly didn’t want him dead.” Sandy looked
directly at Mrs. Banks. “I saw your husband get shot. I was there
sitting with a sheriff’s detective in his police vehicle. We were
trying to stop the shooting. I was there while the ambulance driver
tried to save your husband’s life. Jerry go ahead and explain to
Mr. Bronner what Moran is up to.”

“Abby Olin pulled the trigger. Even though
Moran would dearly love to get Miss Reid involved as a conspirator,
any supposed charges against her are merely legal maneuvering. Abby
is claiming she shot a prowler, which is a very minor charge and a
hopeless one for you to collect on. The good news is, when the
smoke clears, Moran is going to charge Abby Olin with felony
murder.”

“Which is much more serious and is perfect
for your subsequent wrongful death suit,” Sandy added. “Mr.
Bronner, you put this woman in front of any jury in the country and
they’ll hand her the moon and then throw in all the stars for good
measure.”

“Is all this true, Jerry?” Bronner asked.

“Every word. Mrs. Banks the reason you are
going to be successful and get at least something out of this, is
because of the efforts of Miss Reid. She’s the one who developed
all the evidence.”

Bronner adjusted his tie. “I apologize, Miss
Reid.”

“Call me Sandy.”

Juanita Banks spoke up, “Call me Nita.”

“Thank you, Nita. Where are your children
right now?” Sandy asked.

“At my house in Delaware. My mother is over
there for a few days.”

“Good. Now we’re going to work hard to get
you some money. But we can guarantee nothing. The good news is
you’ll no doubt be successful with your suit. Now for the bad news.
You could get a judgment against Abby...that is, you could win the
suit against her and still end up with nothing. This woman you’re
suing is not wealthy. The judge may order her to pay you, but she
might not have any money to give you or anything worth selling. You
understand?”

“That’s not fair.”

“You’re right, it certainly isn’t,
nevertheless that’s the way it works. Also, this is going to take
time. I mean a lot of time. Maybe two or three years if you’re
lucky. Even then, we don’t know if you’ll get any money. Do you
believe me? Do you understand?”

“Yes, I believe you, but I don’t know how
I’ll do it.”

“You have to do it. Somehow, you have to pull
things together and tough it out. For thousands of years husbands
have been dying and their widows surviving somehow. You can do it
too. Do you work? Maybe the kids can go to work. You should be
eligible for some sort of government assistance as well. Get all
your relatives together. Get everyone pulling for you. I know you
can survive even if you get no money from this lawsuit. Now here’s
something else that will help. Mr. Bronner doesn’t want any
thousand dollars from you after all. That was a mistake. He wasn’t
aware of the entire situation. In fact, he’s not going to charge
you a dime unless he’s successful in getting some money for you.
He’ll pay for all expenses out of his own pocket. Later if you do
get some money, you’re going to give him a big share of it. Okay?
Isn’t that right, Mr. Bronner?”

Bronner appeared surprised. He glanced over
at Jerry Kagan who had his eyebrows raised expectantly. Bronner
said, “Of course. That’s fine.”

Sandy continued, “You may be eligible for
some accidental death benefits you didn’t know you had coming.
People don’t realize they might have a couple of thousand dollars
accidental death coverage on their homeowner’s insurance, auto
policy, credit card, automobile club, bank account, union
membership...the list goes on and on.”

“How do I find out all that?”

“Mr. Bronner will be happy to check
everything out as a favor to you at no charge,” Sandy said, not
even looking over at Bronner. The prissy fellow could lump it if he
didn’t like it.

“My husband was a fine man.”

Sandy knew from her personal experiences he
was not a fine man. And what was a fine man doing sneaking down to
Florida trying to hook up with Abby Olin? She held back and said,
“Yes, Nita, of course he was. He worked in the social services
field didn’t he? Did he tell you he worked as a rehab counselor for
young girls?”

“Yes, but something happened and he was
unjustly accused of doing some little thing wrong. The bosses were
out to get him and it was all their fault. Then he had some
problems with college. They got his records all screwed up and made
him drop out. He had some other jobs and now he’s a delivery truck
driver...was a delivery truck driver...he was a fine man.”
Unexpectedly, she dropped her head and began sobbing.

Sandy abruptly stood and pointed at Kagan and
Bronner. “Would you two men please leave the room and close the
door? Mrs. Banks and I need some time alone. She quickly took a
chair closer to Nita and sat quietly waiting with hands folded in
her lap.

After a moment, without looking up Nita
sighed. “Bruce wasn’t a fine man—he was a horrible man. God will
punish me now for speaking against a person who is now dead.”

“God doesn’t punish people for telling the
truth. Did your husband abuse you?”

“No, he never hit me.”

“Did he threaten to hit you, did he
physically push you around, or were you afraid of him when he came
up to you? Did he ever hurt the kids?”

She smiled and dabbed at her eyes. “No,
although he hadn’t been kind or loving for a long time.”

“Did he abuse you in bed?”

“In bed...what do you mean?”

“Did he force you to do things you didn’t
want to do?”

“No, but after the first year or so we never
did much in bed because he said my body had gotten fat and ugly. I
know that was my fault because I couldn’t lose some of the weight
after I had the kids. He stayed away a lot. Didn’t come home for
days at a time or entire weekends. He was always threatening to do
something bad.

“For example.”

“He told me it was his house and he
threatened to kick me and the kids out and we’d have to live on the
street if I didn’t follow his orders. But that was usually my fault
because I did something wrong around the house. Or he’d say he
would take the children away because I was a lousy mother. Stuff
like that, Sandy, but he never actually abused me.”

“Nita, he emotionally abused you. It must
have been a nightmare trying to keep the family and the household
together, and deal with him. It would have been almost impossible
for you to stand up to him to stop the abuse, and extremely
difficult to get out of that marriage. How long had you been
married?”

“Nine years.”

“Fortunately your nine year nightmare is
over. You need to realize this was all him. It wasn’t you. You were
a good wife and good mother. He said those things to keep you upset
to control you. You may need some counseling to get all this
straight in your mind. I can give you some names of counselors up
in Delaware.”

Sandy went to the conference room door. “You
two can come back in here.”

“What are you doing?” Kagan asked.

“I’m going to find Nita some money.”

They watched as Sandy took out her phone. She
called Kevin while walking away from the group. “Kevin, before I
stick my foot in my mouth, didn’t you mention Abby inherited a
condo down in West Palm Beach from her father? Are you absolutely
certain she still owns it?”

“I’m certain. She keeps complaining rental
income is all she has to live on.”

“Are you certain the property isn’t
mortgaged?”

“Well now, that I’m not certain of. My guess
is if she had to pay a mortgage there wouldn’t be anything left
from the rental income.”

“I can find out easily enough. How much do
you figure it’d sell for?”

She listened on the phone and then said, “Oh,
really. You have the exact address?”

“I can get it for you.”

“Great. Get it for me. See ya.”

Sandy came back to the group. “If we can get
a judgment against her, she does have recoverable assets.”

“What do you mean, we? This is my case,”
Bronner said.

Kagan spoke up, “Remember under Florida law
you can’t touch her primary residence.”

“What’s going on?” Nita asked.

“No, but we can latch on to a fancy condo she
owns in West Palm Beach.”

Stunned silence from the men for a full
minute.

Then from Bronner, “Excuse me, Miss, how much
are we talking about here?”

“How does two million sound? Her ex thinks
possibly more. I rounded down.”

“Please explain.” Nita said.

Bronner’s sizzling smile faded as the
technical ramifications of pursuing a complicated, high-powered
suit sunk in. He looked up at the ceiling. “A two million dollar
case? I can’t do this. I mean, I’m not certain I can handle this.
I’ve been doing divorces and simple cases like that.”

Sandy said, “I’d be happy to assist you.”

“You would? I’d be immensely grateful.”

“I don’t come cheap.”

He smiled.

Sandy didn’t smile. “I’m serious. It’ll cost
you big time. You might get half a million on contingency out of
this. I want part of that. In return, I’ll not only work on the
case, but also provide you inside information you couldn’t possible
develop without me. Your future will be assured and this case just
might make you the go-to attorney for wrongful death suits in South
Florida.”