The Return of the Fallen Angels Book Club (A Hollis Morgan Mystery 3) (23 page)

T
he courtroom was almost empty. There were a few small huddles of people, apparently waiting their turns. The Fallen Angels sat in the back of the courtroom, chatting among themselves. George had opted to sit in the viewer’s section behind the railing and the attorney’s table. Hollis appreciated that he didn’t take the seat next to her. It might be interpreted as a sign of lack of confidence.

Frances Wallace sat across the aisle wearing dark glasses. Her lips formed a thin line of distaste.

All this Hollis took in. She was glad she’d finally convinced John not to come. He’d have to leave his seminar early to catch a flight, and he’d only make her more nervous. She promised to regale him with anecdotes over dinner that evening.

She’d had to beg him. “Please, John, just this once, let me get through this without any more spectators than I can handle. The Fallen Angels are going to be there, and that’s bad enough.”

“All the more reason someone who loves you unconditionally should be there, too.” He held her by the shoulders and gazed lovingly into her eyes.

But in the end he gave in.

“I know you’d give me the same space,” he said.

She pulled out the folder Gene had dropped off at the office early that morning and laid it on top of the others stacked in front of her.

The bailiff made the announcement for all to rise.

Judge Messina entered, wearing his black robe and an expensive looking sky-blue tie and matching shirt. He looked out over the courtroom and asked for the docket.

“Let’s get started, I’ve got a long day,” he said picking up a folder. He called out, “The estate of Jeffrey Wallace. Is the executor or administrator here?”

“I am, your honor. Hollis Morgan.” She stepped forward in front of the table. “Unfortunately, the original executer took his life last week; however, I was authorized as co-executor before his death. I’m an … an attorney.”

For a long moment the judge peered over his glasses at her, but said nothing. He picked up the file given him by the court clerk.

“I see Mr. Ravel is in the court,” the judge said. “What are you doing here, George?”

George smiled and stood. “Just viewing, Your Honor. Ms. Morgan is one of our best lawyers. I’m interested in the outcome of the hearing.”

Hollis breathed a sigh of relief that George didn’t mention it was her first court appearance.

The judge peered at them both. “The outcome of a straightforward trust and will … what could be interesting about that? Well, we’d better get started. Ms. Morgan?”

Hollis cleared her throat and licked her lips. “Your honor, as it happens there is nothing straightforward about this trust. Mr. Wallace was murdered six weeks ago, and it was only five days
ago that it was discovered that his son and executor, Brian Wallace, committed the killing.”

Surprised, the judge took off his glasses as if to hear her better.

He looked down at the paperwork and asked, “Is that when you were declared the executor?”

Hollis shook her head. “No, Your Honor. A few weeks prior to his death, Brian Wallace asked me to sign on as co-executor and as such, to verify his concerns about his stepmother, Frances Wallace.”

Behind her, Hollis heard the gasp from Frances. She could almost feel the plunge of the imaginary dagger in her back.

“Brian Wallace suspected that Frances Wallace, who’d filed for divorce shortly after the trust was drawn and funded, was up to something, but he didn’t know what. He retained our firm to find out.”

Judge Messina queried, “The trust has modest holdings. Did he think she was hiding assets?”

Hollis nodded. “Yes, but after spending much time searching, my associates and I could find nothing amiss except for a lot of little things that weren't quite right.”

The judge looked past Hollis at Frances and then back. “Ms. Morgan, I must admit this is not the usual story I get in this court. But unfortunately I must urge you to wrap things up. I have here your petition asking for a continuance. Is that because you are looking for hidden assets?”

Frances stood. “A continuance? Please, Your Honor, there are no hidden assets. Ms. Morgan has irrationally pursued some vague notion that my late husband has—”

The judge hit the gavel. “Mrs. Wallace, this is my courtroom, and only I can speak unless I ask for someone else to speak. Since I did not ask you, sit down.” He turned back to Hollis. “Ms. Morgan, I asked you the question.”

“Yes, Your Honor, that was my intent. However, I don’t think I’ll need the continuance because since my filing yesterday I discovered the missing asset.” Hollis came forward with a single piece of paper and handed it to the judge.

The courtroom was silent.

The judge quickly scanned the sheet.

“Ms. Morgan, would you like to ask Mrs. Wallace to take the stand?” He motioned toward Frances, “Or, would you prefer that continuance?”

Hollis took a quick glance at George, who gave her a slight nod of his head and then he got up and left the room.

“Yes, Your Honor, I call Frances Wallace to the stand.”

Frances’ heels clicked as she walked to the stand and took a seat. Even though her expression was deadpan, the muscles in her jaw flexed and tightened.

“We will swear you in, Mrs. Wallace,” the judge said.

Frances stood and repeated the oath.

“Your turn, Ms. Morgan.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Hollis replied confidently. “Mrs. Wallace, what is the recorded date of your trust that is under consideration in this court today?”

Frances’ impatience was evident. “January twenty-sixth.”

Hollis stood in front of her. “Did you purchase a California lottery ticket after that date?”

Frances turned pale, and the blood-red lipstick she was wearing shone like neon.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“What is the date on the lottery ticket you purchased?” Hollis asked, staring at her.

Frances’ eyes narrowed with hatred.

“You must answer, Mrs. Wallace,” the judge said.

Frances licked her lips. “I purchased it on March sixteenth.”

Hollis nodded. She’d had a hunch about when Frances had bought the ticket. “But that isn’t quite true, is it? The purchaser was Jeffrey Wallace, who once a week bought a lottery ticket from the same location and turned it over to you. Isn’t that true?”

“He purchased it for me,” Frances retorted through clenched teeth.

Hollis ignored her. “Isn’t it true that the ticket purchased on March sixteenth hit, Mrs. Wallace? It hit for twenty-eight million dollars, isn’t that right? And didn’t you file for divorce two days later?”

“Ms. Morgan, you may only ask one question at a time, giving the witness time to answer,” the judge said.

Hollis nodded, reminding herself to breathe. “Ms. Wallace, didn’t you file for divorce in Nevada two days after the lottery ticket you held hit the jackpot?”

Frances said nothing, but her eyes were darting back and forth as if reading the writing on the wall. Finally, she looked down at her hands.

“Yes, I filed for divorce.” Her voice quavered.

Hollis went back to the table and picked up a sheet of paper. “California lottery rules specify that you have six months to claim your prize. Three months had already passed since the trust was created. You had to hold off claiming it until after your divorce was final and it became your separate property. So you only had three months to make sure it wasn’t a joint asset. No one would be the wiser, including your husband. When he was killed, you must have thought you were on a lucky streak.” Hollis paused, quickly glancing up at the judge, who was pointedly looking at her. She realized she hadn’t asked a question. “Isn’t that so?”

Frances rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t kill Jeffrey.”

Hollis walked back to the table. “No, you didn’t kill Jeffrey Wallace. Brian Wallace did. But you did withhold the fact of the lottery winnings to everyone affected. Isn’t that true, Mrs. Wallace?”

Frances’ nose was turning an unattractive red.

“You must answer, Mrs. Wallace,” said the judge.

“I only sent in the form. I hadn’t collected the winnings. It wasn’t verified, so I didn’t know for sure.” Frances gripped the edge of the witness box.

“This brings us to the murder of Todd Wallace.” Hollis turned and caught the glance of a grim-looking George, who had returned to his seat. “You already had plans for the money. You saw a new casino in Nevada as an investor opportunity with your name on it. But your new partners don’t play around. They wanted absolute assurances that the trust would be recorded and you could come up with your share, or else. Is that correct?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to. Maybe being an ex-con has twisted your view of honest people.” Frances smirked.

“Or else ….” Ignoring the taunt, Hollis turned to face the judge and continued speaking. “Or else your stepson, Todd Wallace, would pay a high price. He’d found out about the lottery ticket and wanted a cut for his silence. But later he acquired a conscience. The day he died, he was going to tell me about the ticket. However, you and your friends couldn’t afford to let that happen.” Hollis looked up at the frowning judge and remembered his admonition. “So he had to be stopped. Isn’t that right?”

From the way she stiffened, her eyes blinking rapidly, Hollis knew the answer.

Frances looked up at the judge, who glared back at her.

“Yes, yes, all right.” Her shoulders slumped and she held her head in her hands. “It … it just got out of hand. I told them I could handle Todd, but then when it was clear he was going to tell you ….” She started to sob.

Hollis stepped away from the stand and stood next to her own chair.

“Ms. Morgan, it is clear to the court that this is anything but a routine trust.” Judge Messina put on his glasses. “There may be criminal charges involved. Mrs. Wallace will likely need to seek advisement from her own attorney. I will grant a continuance of thirty days. Bailiff?”

As if recovering from the testimony, the bailiff wiped his forehead and announced the next case.

Hollis turned and saw the smiling faces of the Fallen Angels as they waved and moved out into the lobby area. Mark was there too and he gave her shoulder a squeeze as George came around the banister to pat Hollis on the back. A police officer was waiting at the entry doors for Frances to make her way down the aisle. Hollis packed her papers and moved to the side as the next attorney approached the table.

She caught movement in the small balcony over the courtroom doors and looked straight into John’s eyes. He grinned and gave her an acknowledging bow.

V
ince was as uncomfortable with attention as Hollis, so they both hated this gathering.

The Fallen Angels had reserved a table for a party of seven at Scott’s Seafood in Jack London Square. The lunchtime crowd has dissipated and the mid-afternoon patrons were few. In the center of the table was a large fern with a balloon that read “Congratulations” and a second balloon painted with a diploma.

Hollis tried to remember the last time she’d owned a plant—a
living
plant. She’d transitioned to artificial plants when she went back to law school. It seemed more merciful.

“Hollis, why the look? Don’t be mad. We had to do something.” Rena smiled. “You were great. You must be on cloud nine. And you too, Vince. Your GED is a big deal. It took a lot of self-discipline.”

Vince mumbled something under his breath. Hollis patted him on his shoulder.

She whispered to him, “Don’t worry. I still owe you a buffet dinner.”

“Hah, you all don’t know her well, do you?” Stephanie slid another fresh oyster into her mouth with a look of utter contentment. “She’s afraid to be happy.”

Hollis exchanged looks with John and gave a slight shrug.

“You guys know I don’t—”

“Just once,” Gene said. “Ms. Morgan, just once be gracious and accept our kudos and congratulations.” He patted her on the back. “If it makes you feel better, just think that we’re doing it for us, not you.”

“What I want to know is how you knew about the lottery ticket?” Stephanie asked as she broke off a piece from the loaf of warm bread.

Hollis looked at Gene, who gave her an open grin.

“Frances came to my office to sign final forms. While she was trying to snatch the paper from me, her purse fell open. As she scrambled to put things back in her bag I noticed an envelope addressed to the California Lottery, attention Claims Division. And that’s when it hit me. Or, at least it gave me the idea.”

Vince paused from eating his hamburger. “But, Hollis, how did you know she’d hit the jackpot? How did you know the amount?”

“I didn’t. But I knew Gene could find out from his newspaper. We knew someone had won the jackpot, and the lottery posts where the ticket was sold. Gene discovered a large win took place at a Bay Area market not far from Jeffrey’s house. He was able to verify that she’d applied and was in the process of having her claim verified.” Hollis patted Gene on the shoulder. “I could never figure out what the significance was of the three months. But then the pieces fell together. You only have six months to claim a lottery prize. But if she were going to claim this as her separate property, she needed six weeks to establish residency for a Nevada divorce. Francis hadn’t planned on Jeffrey’s death. After Jeffrey was murdered, the clock was ticking on having the trust filed. She didn’t want the ticket proceeds in the trust because then she would have to deal with the Library Foundation and Brian as the executor and he could cause trouble. Her Nevada friends would not tolerate any delays.”

Richard nodded in agreement. “She would cash the ticket as her separate property so it wouldn’t pass on to Todd or Brian. Or perhaps she was worried they’d find out who actually bought the ticket and cause trouble.” He raised his fork in the air. “Say, what happens to the lottery money now?”

Hollis’ jaw tightened. “My initial research showed that there is nothing in the California lottery rules that prevents a convicted felon from playing or collecting lottery winnings.”

“Then she’s still going to get all that money,” Miller grumbled.

A thoughtful quiet settled on the group.

Gene hit the table lightly with his fist. “I’m a firm believer in karma. Frances will get her just due and besides, as a felon, she’s prohibited from participating in the ownership of a casino.”

“Todd, now that’s sad.” Miller pulled out a small square of origami paper.

Hollis said in a quiet voice, “What’s sad is that none of us knew what Jeffrey’s life was really like. He was … he was hurting. But, I guess the part that touches me the most … I lost my hero.” She paused and then continued, “I think Todd was going to blackmail Frances. He wasn’t in the trust, but he’d found out about her winnings.”

“How did he find out?” Miller asked.

Hollis sighed. “I don’t know if we’ll ever know for sure. Maybe he just stumbled on it the same way I did. But in the end he decided to be the man Jeffrey wanted him to be. He might have made the mistake of threatening Frances with telling me. Or maybe she was having him followed and he was seen meeting with me. I think one of her partners hired those two guys I identified to take care of him.”

“So once you filed the papers for the hearing ….” Gene offered.

“So, once I filed the papers, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and my shadows backed off.”

John squeezed her hand under the table.

“You know,” Rena held her fork midair, “I just started reading a book by Jason Rivers. It’s fictionalized non-fiction and it has a blackmail storyline something like we just came through. I guess life imitates art again.”

“What’s the title?” Gene asked. “If you guys want, I can get copies for all the Fallen Angels. We can make it our July selection. Vince, you’re welcome to join us.”

Vince shook his head. “Thanks, but maybe another time. I’m going to be busy going to college.”

Hollis smiled at him, then at John, and then looked around the table at each member in turn.

“Well, here we go again.”

* * *