Foreclosure: A Novel (36 page)

David smiled at her for a moment, just long enough to make her uncomfortable. “Where’s Alton?” he finally said.

“Hello, David.” She turned back to her dinner party. “Everyone, this is David Friedman, the litigation associate I mentioned. He’s actually up for partner this year.” She looked David up and down. “And from what I hear, he’s pretty good on his feet.”

David didn’t break his stare. “Where’s Alton?”

“How should I know?” she said, throwing her companions a careless smile.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” David whispered.

Mackenzie glanced around the table and set down her napkin. “If you could excuse me for just a moment.”

Outside, David didn’t let the door close before he asked about Alton again.

She turned to him, annoyed. “So you haven’t heard yet?”

“Heard what? Who are those people?”

She wore a proud grin. “My new partners.”

“What do you mean?”

“What the hell do you think I mean? I’m opening the Miami office of Killjoy Ramsey, and you’re looking at its managing partner.”

“The New York firm?” he asked.

“International. They’ve had their eyes on Miami for some time. They see real opportunities to grow in this market and broaden relations with South America.”

David had heard of the firm, one of the largest in the world. He tried to reconcile this news with the scuttle he’d heard around the office the past few weeks. “What about Alton?”

“That dinosaur? They’re looking for youth, vitality. People with vision.” She pulled him close and stared him right in the eyes. He could smell the wine on her breath and her expensive fragrance. “And I know for a fact they’re interested in talking to you. Hell, I’m interested in talking to you. With my recommendation, I’m sure they’d bring you in as a partner. You might even be a candidate to head the litigation department. Think about that.”

David found himself doing just that. When he realized he was, he pushed her away. “Where is he?”

“You play the tool very well.”

“You tell me right now where the hell he is, or I’m going back into that dining room, and I’m not going to pull any punches, Mackenzie. They will read about it in the morning news, and talk about it at this stuffy hellhole for the next century.” He caught his breath. “Are we clear?”

David rode the elevator up the north tower of Gaspar Towers. He’d never been in this tower, and he’d never stopped to think about who might be living in its penthouse. That it was Alton Holloway only made sense in light of everything David had learned today.

Unlike the south tower where Frank lived, the north had two penthouses, and the elevator opened to a hallway dividing them. He found Alton’s door and knocked. He waited for what seemed two minutes and then knocked again. Resting his ear against the door, he could hear music playing inside, so he turned the doorknob and the door swung open. The crescendo of a romantic opera escaped the condo.

David closed the door behind him and made his way through the bare rooms. The kitchen and dining area lacked any furniture. He passed the door to a bedroom with a large poster-frame bed that was littered with mangled satin sheets and crumpled clothes. He yelled for Alton, but heard nothing but the blaring music. He passed through an empty living area that led to the balcony overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. Through the French doors, he could see Alton Holloway staring at the expansive horizon, holding a tumbler.

David opened the sliding door.

Alton turned to him weakly, as though sedated. “David? Welcome.”

David stepped onto the balcony. Below, the swell of waves caressed the beach like fingers trying to console someone in mourning.

“How did you find me?” Alton said.

“Mackenzie.”

Alton hung his head and moaned, “That fucking bitch.”

“What happened?”

“She left me. And she waited until I’d told my wife I was leaving her.” Alton stared at the sun setting over the Gulf. “We take it for granted, don’t we? That the sun will rise every morning, after it sets. But it won’t for all of us, will it?”

“I guess it won’t,” David said. “I need to talk to you about something, Alton. Something very important.”

Alton sighed. “Don’t worry, young Padawan. You’ve already made partner.”

“That’s not—”

“Indeed, the last man opposing your partnership has already voted for you. And you didn’t even have to blackmail him. Aren’t you proud of yourself?” Alton turned to sneer gently at David, and then returned his gaze to the setting sun.

“I’m not here to talk about making partner.”

“How do you like the music, David?”

“Who is Xerxes Capital?”

Alton glanced at David. Not like the name meant anything. Not like he had something to hide. Rather, like he was offended that David would mention something so base while Alton was pondering this work of art. He concentrated on the music. “I could have been a poet, David. That was my first calling. I studied with some of the greatest literary minds of our time at Princeton. And this is what I did with it. The details. They all slip by so quickly.”

“I never knew.”

“She made me write. When I was with her, I filled notebooks with lyrical delight. I was alive again. And I took it for granted.”

“Xerxes Capital, Alton.”

Alton’s head tottered back and forth like he had the spins. “Why, you must think I’m the devil, David. Coming here to ask
me
about Xerxes Capital.”

“You opened the file. And right around the time Steve Salvo and Dan Chase were in town. They were shopping for distressed loans.”

Alton smiled at David while his head swayed along to the music. “Steve Salvo is dead.”

“What?”

“Last month. He hung himself in his wife’s walk-in closet. He wanted her to find him. Instead, his daughter did. While the mother was out with another man, the ink not yet dry on their divorce papers.”

David closed his eyes as a sense of gloom washed over him.

“I didn’t know you cared so much for Steve, David. Or does the news hit a little close to home for you?”

“I didn’t know,” David said. “I don’t know.”

“How could you? There’s so much you don’t know. So much you couldn’t know, because you were not intended to.”

David opened his eyes. “Who is Xerxes Capital?”

“Just another client, David. Just another entity out there, another shell, protecting investors, hiding money, paying our bills. It’s what we do. At the end of the day, that’s all we do.”

“Whose client?”

“The firm’s. Isn’t that enough?”

“Not for me.”

Alton met David with an honest gaze. “For the past thirty years, I have been nothing but a figurehead for people who wanted to hide. Hide the truth. I have been the protector, if you will. No one wants to be responsible for the bad news. Our clients. Our partners. No one wants to face the truth. Or even acknowledge that it’s there. But it can’t be swept under the rug, can it? Sooner or later, it finds us all. And when it does, God help us.”

“The truth, Alton.”

“And I have been paid well for what I do. And what do I have to show for it?” Alton leaned forward and picked up a spiral-bound notebook. “This. Musings on depravity and love and beauty in a world utterly lacking anything redemptive. And it’s taken me sixty years to realize this.” Alton waved the notebook at David, and then he tossed it over the balcony. “Good-bye.”

“Who opened the Xerxes Capital file?” David said.

“The same person who opposed your partnership last year.” Alton stared blankly at the setting sun.

“That’s you.”

Alton slowly shook his head as if cement were drying in his neck. “Sun’s almost gone.”

David looked out and watched the last sliver of sunlight disappearing in the horizon. “Then who opposed my partnership?”

“You really want to know the truth, David?” Alton raised his hand and held a tight fist in front of David.

David nodded. “Yes.”

Alton turned his hand over and opened his fingers, revealing a tiny ring with three keys. “Do you know what this unlocks?”

David looked at the antique keys of brass. “I think I do.”

“You really want to know? A lawyer who cares about the truth?”

“Give it to me, Alton.”

“It will tell you everything you want to know about Xerxes Capital.”

“And you’re just going to give it to me?”

Alton grabbed David’s arm. “Yes,” he hissed. “I need someone else to know. I am finished, David. I am finished. Tomorrow, they will vote me out. I have committed unpardonable sins.”

David tried to jerk his arm free, but Alton squeezed it and pushed the key ring into David’s palm. Then, Alton returned his gaze to the beach and visions that weren’t really there, at least for David to see. His head turned a few degrees when David opened the door to leave. The sound of the opera swelled again.

“David,” Alton said. “Don’t forget about yourself.”

“What?”

“When you open that cabinet, don’t forget to look yourself up, if you really want to know the truth.” Alton turned back to the balcony and rested his head against the chair. “That is all.”

David considered asking whether Alton would be okay. But he didn’t want to know the answer.

David returned to the office to find it dark and empty. He made his way down the hallway of conference rooms. He stopped outside the Alderman Room and looked at Alton’s portrait. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d stared at the portrait of this man who had always represented what was good and bad about being a lawyer—the smugness, intelligence, feigned confidence, and persuasiveness. But as David studied it tonight, he noticed that Alton looked so alone. He’d always looked alone, yearning for something he’d never have, anesthetized by his own place in society.

And when David reached Alton’s office, it too seemed lonely and bare. The man clearly had done little work here lately. For all David knew, Alton had already started packing. But there, standing along the wall like a fortress, stood the walnut cabinet, keeper of the firm and Alton’s collective secrets.

Three keys for three drawers. He tried two keys before he was able to open the top drawer. He skimmed the files that were arranged alphabetically with names of people and companies, most of which David had never heard of—that is, until he passed the middle of the file and found a folder for “Pinnacle H&I,” which he pulled out before continuing his search. The last file in the drawer read, “Xerxes CP.” The file was thick enough to hold escrow records.

David unlocked the second drawer. There were more familiar names, mostly associates, staff, and even a few partners, who had come and gone at Hollis & Alderman over the years. Not too far in was a file for Justin Baxter. He considered taking it, but realized he already knew enough of Justin’s secrets. He feared his own would be more than enough for one night. About a quarter of the way through the drawer, he arrived at the file marked “Friedman, D.L.”

He set the files on Alton’s desk and took a deep breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the globe bar. He started for a drink, but decided he’d rather be sober for this.

An hour later, David parked in Terry’s driveway. A Christmas tree glowed in the front window of the Jenkins home. Maybe he should just call Terry, he told himself for the tenth time, but then he reassured himself that this needed to be done in person. So he took a breath and fumbled in the backseat for his bag.

Terry’s wife opened the door. Mrs. Jenkins was charming as ever and seemed genuinely happy to see David. “It’s so good to see you, David. Terry’s expecting you.”

The house was warm and decorated for Christmas. As David steadied himself in the foyer and tried to play along with the small talk, he thought about Ed and Wanda Savage’s house just a few blocks away, and the nearby beach where legend had it the pirate after whom Gaspar County was named first stormed Florida.

David mumbled his thanks, about all he could say right now without his voice cracking.

She led him to Terry’s office. From the hallway, he could hear Terry talking on the phone. She knocked gently and waited for her husband to say the word, and then she opened the door and showed David in. Terry sat with the phone to his ear and the computer screen facing him crookedly. He smiled and waved his wife away, and she closed the door and left.

“No, they wanted to sign it tonight. We’ll present it to the court tomorrow morning.” Terry gestured for David to sit; he’d be just a minute. “No, you should be there. Yes, same time.” Terry nodded a few times, waiting to wrap up the call. “He just got here. We’ll let you know if there’s a problem. Otherwise, see you tomorrow.”

Terry hung up the phone and let out a sigh of relief. “It’s all wrapped up. Congratulations, my man. You just made yourself a lot of money. How’s it feel?”

David felt his heart pounding. His eyes scanned the hundreds of books in Terry’s library, trying to find something to fix on—anything but the face of his mentor. “So, that’s it? It’s over?”

Terry nodded coolly. “We’ll stipulate to the dismissal of the case tomorrow. Then I’ve got an important meeting to go to, to vote for you, my right-hand man. And then I want to meet you at the airport. I’m taking you to St. George for Christmas. My treat.” He held a wide smile for a moment. “David?”

David cleared his throat. “I’m withdrawing.”

“Withdrawing from what?”

“I want to withdraw before the case is dismissed. I want my name off the record. It’s my ethical …” But David couldn’t quite finish the sentence because the nerves in his upper lip seemed frozen. He finally got out the word: “Obligation.”

“Ethical obligation?” He studied David for a confounded moment. Then he relaxed with a fit of laughter. “Good one. I love it.” The laughter died as he realized David wasn’t joking. “What the hell is going on, kid?”

David reached into his bag and tossed a file on Terry’s desk. “You opened a client matter, a confidential client-matter file, for Xerxes Capital in December 2007. About a month before you were telling me to go out and land Frank O’Reilly as a client.”

“And?”

“Your internal memo explained that this matter would guarantee work for an associate who wasn’t ready for partnership, one David Friedman. Because Pinnacle Homes & Investments was obligated to hire whatever attorney Xerxes Capital instructed it hire.”