Foreclosure: A Novel (25 page)

Later, David trailed the end of the line of guests paying their condolences to Frank. Frank sat in one of the white fold-up chairs, wearing a beige suit with a black handkerchief stuffed in its front pocket. The guests passed him by, bending over slightly and shaking his hand and paying their condolences. He nodded back at them.

When David finally reached him, Frank looked up and slowly stood to meet him. David wanted to remind him of the status hearing they had to attend tomorrow, of all the work they had to do with the insurance claim, that he was here for Frank and going to help him beat these guys. But when Frank removed his glasses and David saw the immense sadness on his face, a look David never imagined he’d see on Frank O’Reilly, all he could say was that he was sorry.

“Thank you,” Frank said. “Today I just want to mourn.”

David returned to his office that evening to find piles of unopened mail on his desk. No doubt left by Beatrice. The mass of mail reminded him that he’d heard nothing about voice mail this week. No doubt thanks to Beatrice, too. And sure enough, he checked his phone to find that several voice mails were waiting for him. Where Mirabel would have checked the messages daily and then transcribed and emailed them to David during such a hectic week, Beatrice apparently hadn’t checked his voice mail since she’d taken over on Mirabel’s last day of work.

David played through the messages, starting with the most recent. Joe McLaren had called and said he was trying to talk some sense into his client, but he still was not happy about this; Blake Hubert wanted to talk about how to approach Wanda Savage and the negative PR they were sure to get from this; Terry was just checking in, and Alton needed to talk.

When he arrived at the last and oldest message, he felt chilled the instant he heard her voice. “I sent you the escrow records today.” Katherine sounded like she was fighting tears. “You should know, they’re fake, David. Every single one of them. But I’m
sure that’s no surprise to you.” Her voice quavered. “I think I know where the real ones are. That’s why I wanted you to call me.” She paused again. “Listen to me. We can’t trust Frank anymore. He’s in trouble, and I think he knows about that guy you’ve seen around here. I’m afraid of what he’ll do if he finds out about him. Please call me as soon as you can. I need your advice.” There was a chime in the background, like a doorbell ringing. Then her voice became angry, frustrated. “Shit, I have to go.” And the message ended.

He set the phone down and shook the feeling of talking to the dead.

David took a seat in Judge Leblanc’s courtroom a few minutes after the hearing was scheduled to begin. Fortunately, the judge was running late too. Unfortunately, David hadn’t seen or heard from Frank all day. Across the courtroom, Justin glared at David, his face glowing with disdain and perhaps a hint of fear. David did his best to show nothing.

The bailiff called court to session as Judge Leblanc emerged from chambers. She walked with heavy steps and a gait that suggested a vacation was long overdue. Then she eased herself into her tattered black pleather chair. “I called this status conference in light of the fire at the property. I wanted to meet with counsel
and
clients.” She frowned at the empty seat next to David. “But I see that Mr. O’Reilly did not get that message.”

David stood. “Your Honor, it was my understanding he would be here today. I can only speculate that something urgent occurred.”

“Is this not urgent?”

“I understand, Judge. If you’d like, I can try to call him again.”

“No, let’s not waste any more time.”

David sat back down as the judge reviewed her paperwork.

“The first issue I want to address is scheduling. At the last hearing, the bank requested an evidentiary hearing on its motion for a receiver. I don’t know if that motion is moot in light of what occurred at the property.”

Chaska stood. “It’s not, Your Honor.”

“Well, I’ll hear from you on that in a moment, Mr. Chaska, but the main issue right now is my availability. As you all know, Judge Cox has left us for bigger and better things, otherwise known as life tenure with the federal judiciary, which I believe makes me the most senior judge in this circuit, as well as the most wise and astute, which I believe was the case even before Judge Cox left us.”

David chuckled. He couldn’t disagree.

“But that leaves only three circuit judges in this county to hear all civil cases. Due to budget cuts, and when I say ‘cuts,’ I mean that in every painful and penetrating sense of the word, it doesn’t look like Gaspar County will be adding a replacement for Judge Cox in the foreseeable future.”

David heard the door to the courtroom open. He turned and scowled as Frank slid into his seat.

Judge Leblanc saw him too. “Mr. O’Reilly, nice of you to join us.”

David pushed Frank to his feet to respond.

Frank reluctantly said, “I’m sorry, Judge. I had some difficulty getting here today.”

“Please be seated. I was explaining that due to budget constraints, the judges in this circuit are going to have our caseloads increase by about twenty percent. Bottom line is hearing time will be at a premium.”

“That good for us?” Frank whispered to David.

David nodded and gestured for him to shut up and listen.

But Frank pulled out an envelope and handed it to David. “You have to see this,” he murmured.

David scanned a letter as he listened to the judge.

This firm represents Continental Indemnity Company. Reference is made to your claim under Policy No. 743G89-A … We regret to inform you of our reservation of rights … We require additional information … schedule your representative(s) examination under oath on September 9, 2008 … financial documents spanning the years 2005 through the present …

Damn it, David thought. They were trying to pin the fire on Frank and deny the claim. He stopped reading when the judge cleared her throat.

“So, let me ask the parties this,” she continued. “Is there any possibility of settling this case?”

Chaska stood first. “Your Honor, actually, we have been in contact with the insurer for the property. Based on information received, I believe settlement is not out of the question.”

“Mr. Friedman?” she asked.

But David was still trying to make sense of what Chaska had just said. “We’re always willing to entertain settlement discussions.” He took his seat as quickly as he’d stood, still wondering whether he had heard Chaska correctly.

“Very good. Then I’m ordering this matter to mediation to occur within thirty days. Now, I recall there had been an issue with escrow records that needed to be produced?”

Chaska stood again. “Yes, Your Honor. We did receive those records, or what they said were the records, but we have some serious concerns about their authenticity, if not their veracity.”

“Have you taken a deposition?”

“Not yet, Judge.”

“Well, come back after you do.” She looked at David. “Mr. Friedman. Is there an issue with the authenticity of the documents you produced?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

The judge leaned forward. “That doesn’t sound very assuring, Mr. Friedman. Would it help if I asked you whether your client has committed a fraud on this court and invites me to strike its pleadings?”

“Judge, there is no issue with the documents. My client has produced everything in its possession that is responsive to the request.”

“And are there any other documents
not
in your client’s possession?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“I hope your story doesn’t change. I’ll look forward to receiving that mediation report. Court is in recess.”

As soon as the judge left, David eyed Chaska making a break across the courtroom. David quickly hid the letter from the insurance company.

Chaska tried to play it cool. “Like I said, we’ve been in contact with the insurance company’s counsel, Victor Vasquez. You know him?”

David knew the name but couldn’t place it amidst the afternoon’s whirlwind of information. He just nodded.

“We’re a loss payee under the policy,” Chaska continued. “If we’re paid in full, you should dismiss your bogus claim and we’ll each go our own merry way. How does that sound?”

David tried to reconcile the notion of Meridian Bank getting paid in full with the letter he’d just skimmed. “No argument from me.”

“Good. So, let’s go ahead and schedule that mediation.” Chaska patted David on the shoulder before guiding his client out the door. Justin kept his eyes locked on David on his way out. He obviously wanted to say something, but Chaska had probably instructed him to stay quiet.

David shook him off and pulled out the letter for a slower reading. He started with the letterhead this time.
Victor Vasquez. Perkins White
. David finally remembered: it had been ten years since they’d met, but Vasquez was a neurotic litigator in Miami David had interviewed with in law school. He’d pushed hard to sell David on his practice. He was a real nut job on everyone’s list of bet-the-company trial lawyers. He would’ve been David’s boss, maybe his mentor, had Terry not swept him off his feet during recruiting season.

Frank grabbed David’s elbow. “Can you please tell me what the hell this means?”

David and Frank faced off on a sidewalk near the courthouse bus stop.

“It’s a reservation of rights,” David said. “It means they’re not paying your claim, they’re not denying it. They’re just reserving their rights to do either.” David watched his explanation sail over Frank’s head.

“This insurance company is going to be the death of me,” Frank murmured.

“They’re going to take your examination under oath, Frank. They’re going to try to pin this on you.”

“They think I would kill Katherine?”

David remembered the message he’d received from Katherine. “I don’t know what they think. But you have to admit, it looked suspicious.”

“What looked suspicious? The condo’s being foreclosed, so I’m going to blow my daughter up?”

A few lawyers passed by on the sidewalk, trying to act oblivious to Frank’s apparent confession, but obviously amused by it.

“Keep it down,” David said. “Maybe you didn’t know she was there. I don’t know. But the insurance company obviously has questions that they want answered.”

“So this examination under oath—it’s like a deposition?”

“It is a deposition.”

“I hate depositions.”

David made sure he had Frank’s attention. “I have to warn you: this Vasquez guy is a dangerous lawyer.”

Frank paced the sidewalk. “So this works out great for you. More hours to bill me before I get paid.”

David shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun. “Yeah, we need to talk about that. I’m getting heat about the July invoice. I’m going to need permission from the firm to even defend this deposition if you don’t get caught up on your bills.”

Frank stared at the traffic passing by on Main Street. “I can’t pay,” he said.

“What?” David raised his voice over the rumble of the departing bus.

“I said I can’t pay you. Not until we get paid by the insurance company.”

“Frank, I like you and all, but I’m not doing this pro bono.”

Frank looked ready to get something off his chest. “I know you’re not. But you said it yourself: we have to pay back the deposits to all the south tower purchasers now. I can’t wait around with my dick in my hand for the insurance company to pay. I have no choice. It’s going to take every dime I have to pay those deposits back.”

“Well, you could go to the investor or whoever the hell it is and get the escrow monies back.”

Frank chuckled. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you? I’m broke, David. I own a hundred houses that are worthless, and the pride of my life was blown to hell by people who want paid. I’m out of options. Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“I might.” David waited to make sure Frank was paying attention. “But it will cost you more.”

Alton winced as if his head were in a vice. “You’ve lost your mind.” His fingers interlocked tightly behind his head.

David didn’t know why, but he felt like he already had Alton on the ropes. “Hear me out, Alton. We could make a lot of money doing this.”

Alton stood and paced around his desk. “We don’t do contingency-fee cases. We never have, and we never will.”

“Look, you said it yourself: times have changed. To be competitive, we’re going to have to change. There’s a lot of money to be made here.”

“There’s a lot of money to lose, too.”

David took a breath. He wanted to back up. “He’d pay his bills for the lawsuit with the bank. He’ll get current on that and stay current. That should make you happy.”

“Status quo, David.” Alton pointed to the walnut cabinet in his corner. “This cabinet is filled with hundreds of files of people who were status quo. That’s not what we do here.” He leaned over the cabinet and knocked on it.

David met Alton at the cabinet. “It’s a thirty-million-dollar claim. We’d get at least thirty percent of any recovery. Pinnacle will be making more than it would if it sold the units. And look at the cut we’d get. Ten million dollars, Alton. That would be enough to get us through the rest of the recession.”

“And what would you get?” Alton seemed curious more than anything.

“Guaranteed partnership. Plus ten percent of our recovery.”

“You obviously have this all thought out.”

“I should get origination credit. That’s the credit I’d get if I were partner.” David pulled on the top file drawer. It didn’t budge. “There will still be millions for the firm.”

Alton grabbed David’s hand and removed it from the cabinet drawer. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t. I have enough fodder for nightmares involving you.”

Alton smirked. “Everyone thinks I’m the bad guy.” He patted the top of the cabinet a few times. “You might be surprised what’s in here.”

David tried to get him back on track. “Alton, do I need to tell this guy to find another law firm to make an easy ten million?”

Alton ran his fingers through his black hair. “Let me discuss this with Mackenzie and Terry.”