Authors: William G. Tapply
Cutter's Run (36 page)
And Barbara Cooper proceeded to question Mick about checks he had written to “cash.” There were nine of them, all large. His answers in all cases were the same: “I don’t remember.”
Q. That’s, let’s see, that’s $72,500 that you took in cash in the space of a few months, and you don’t remember how you spent it. Is that your testimony?
A. Yes.
Q. Now, Mr. Fallon, calling your attention to Exhibit 12 again, which is a copy of your individual tax return for last year, would you please point out to me where on this return you have accounted for the income of $43,000 that you testified came to you as cash or personal checks and that you deposited into your bank account?
MR. COYNE: I want to go off the record for a minute.
(Counsel confers with witness.)
I steered Mick back out into the reception area. The secretary, who was talking on the telephone, looked up, gave us a quick smile, hung up the phone, and left the room.
“Sit down,” I said to Mick.
He slumped on the sofa. I stood in front of him.
“Okay,” I said, “now tell me.
Is
that forty-three grand accounted for on your tax return?”He shook his head.
“Should it have been?”
“I don’t know. I guess so.”
“You testified you couldn’t remember where it came from. Was that the truth?”
“No. I know where it came from.”
“And the seventy-two-five you took in cash?”
“What the fuck is she trying to do to me?”
“Who?”
“Kaye, for Christ’s sake. Don’t you see what’s going on?”
“I think I do,” I said. “Now answer my question.”
“About the seventy-two-five?”
“Right.”
“Yeah, I know what I did with it.”
“You paid off debts.”
He nodded.
“What kind of debts, Mick?”
He looked up at me, then shrugged. “You know,” he mumbled.
“Maybe I do,” I said, “but I want you to explain it to me right now. And you better tell me the truth this time, or I’ll fire you. You lied to me before. You said you didn’t cheat on your taxes.”
“You’re pissed, huh?”
“I’m embarrassed, Mick.”
He looked up at me, shrugged, then bent forward with his arms dangling between his legs.
“Gambling?” I said.
He nodded.
“You’re supposed to report what you win gambling.”
“I figured if I lost more than I won—”
“It doesn’t work that way. You know that, don’t you?”
Mick’s eyes refused to meet mine. “Yeah, I guess I do. But, see, I figured—”
“Don’t lie to your lawyer, Mick. Never again. Understand?”
“Okay,” he said.
“Tell me about the gambling, Mick.”
He let out a long breath. “When Kaye and I got married, she made me promise to quit. I tried, but…”
“But you can’t help it, right?”
He nodded. “I’ve always gambled. I was lucky in college and in the pros. I mean, I never bet on my own games, and back then you could get away with it if you were careful. But Kaye knew. She hated it. So I promised her I’d quit.”
“But you didn’t quit.”
“I really did try. But I—it’s in my blood. I handled the money in the family, I did all my gambling with cash, I never lost too much more than I won, and I was able to cover it up from Kaye.”
“Your accountant never questioned you?”
“Ray? Oh, he just used the figures I gave him. He never said anything.”
“Do you realize what kind of trouble you could be in?”
He looked up at me. “I think about it all the time, man. Every time the phone rings or someone knocks on my door, I’m thinking, Uh-oh, the IRS. Here they come.”
“And you’re still gambling?”
“Oh, yeah. I need a big hit. I owe ’em big time. I’m in bad shape, man.”
“Well,” I said, “this explains why Attorney Cooper wanted to depose you.”
“What, so she could get me arrested for tax evasion?”
“No. Because she’s protecting her client’s interests.”
“Kaye doesn’t know about the gambling.”
“Well, Attorney Cooper has figured it out, Mick. Come on. We’re going back in there.”
“You mean, I’ve got to tell them about the gambling?”
“No.”
MR. COYNE: I’ve advised my client not to answer that last question, or any other questions pertaining to his bank account or his tax return for last year.
MS. COOPER: What about questions pertaining to his income and expenditures for the period before he and my client separated?
MR. COYNE: No more questions on those subjects, either.
MS. COOPER: I don’t have any further questions, then.
(Whereupon the deposition concluded at 12:45
P.M.
)
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I
AM INDEBTED TO
Vicki Stiefel (my virtual spouse, for her incredibly perceptive, helpful, and candid editorial criticism, not to mention her love and support), Keith Kahla (an editor who actually edits), Keith Wegener (my hunting and fishing partner and my main man in Maine), Dr. Charles Damitz (for his technical help on veterinary medicine), and Jed Mattes (my good shepherd), who were all wonderfully generous with their time and expertise, and without whose faith, interest, and insights this story would undoubtedly be a mess.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1998 by William G. Tapply
Cover design by Kathleen Lynch
978-1-4804-3627-5
This 2013 edition distributed by MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media
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