Single Jeopardy (19 page)

“
Yeah, I finally went to the VA and had a chest X-Ray. I hope I’m not screwing up the case, but the doc there told me that I was in the process of recovering from the worst case of bronchitis he’s ever seen, so I guess I was wrong about that asbestos stuff. Sorry, Pete, I’ll get a check off to you for your time and expenses in filing the suit.”

I used to think that Stuart was the biggest loser in the world, but my feelings about him have changed drastically over the past months. He’s worked hard. It may have been with some lame-brained schemes, but he finally made something out of himself. He’s got a nice income now, and aside from still having some strange personality traits, he’s even developed a little class.

His admitting he was wrong about the asbestosis is the first time I’ve ever heard him confess to a mistake. This is definitely a good sign. “Stuart, I really appreciate your wanting to be fair with me on the filing fees, but it won’t be necessary. I think we’ve got the case sewn up and there’ll be some money in it for you.”

“
Pete, no matter how much it is, I want you to have half of it. No, don’t argue with me. You’ve been great with me, and I want you to take a full fee; even if it’s only on a small settlement.”

I’m living on my dream boat, which will only cost the firm one dollar to exercise that option to buy; my ex-wife is off my back for a piece of my future earnings, my girlfriend and prospective future spouse is going to come into a few million bucks from her mother’s life insurance policy and future royalties, and Laverne is leaving me alone. What else can I ask for? I’ve been treating Stuart pretty badly for the past twenty years, so maybe now’s the time to do something nice for him. “Stu, I’m going to accept your offer to take a fee on this case, but not the fifty percent you offered: I only want the minimum retainer amount that any lawyer would take for settling a case before the discovery process commences; twenty five percent, partly payable in merchandise of my choice.”

Stuart sticks out his hand and we shake on it. There’s no need for a written retainer agreement between us, because one good thing about Stuart is that like me, his word is his bond.

The police have finished their meeting down below and start leaving the boat, just as Indovine’s messenger arrives with the settlement draft and release. Stuart looks at the sealed envelope like he’s one of the nominees for an Academy Award and the winner is about to be announced. He sees the smile on my face. “C’mon, Pete, please don’t make me go through this again. The last time was unbelievable. I don’t think I can take the suspense again this time.”

“
Stuart, this case was not like the last one, so don’t expect to see a telephone number on that check, because it’s definitely less than seven figures. All I’ll tell you is that it’s more than the fifty bucks I thought the case would settle for. And don’t worry about the costs for filing; my fee will cover that.”

He opens the envelope and stares at the check with disbelief. More tears, another thank you, and another hug for the lawyer that lasts longer than I want it to.

We celebrate for several hours. Next morning, true to his promise and per my instructions, Stuart delivers two items to me at the boat: an envelope containing most of my retainer fee, and something big and yellow. The envelope never really got as far as my hands, because the little one appeared out of nowhere and intercepted it. I had originally brought that case in as a referral to Melvin, so the fee belongs to the firm. All I’m entitled to is the normal one-third referral fee, which in this case is quite sufficient. I take the pink slip to the yellow Hummer, and she takes the money.

*****

Chapter
14

The problem with driving a Hummer is that it’s tough getting it into designated parking spaces. The people who designed our Marina must have imagined that people with million-dollar yachts all drive compact cars. If your vehicle hangs over the painted white lane markers, everyone complains. Fortunately my income has reached a level that affords the additional expense of special underground parking, so I rented two spaces where the adjacent apartment building’s residents park, and now have plenty of room for my yellow tank. Extra space isn’t the only advantage, because by paying to park under the building, my designated space is just a few feet away from where George C.’s limo driver parks when his boss is on the boat. This will no doubt give me a much better chance of bumping into my celebrity neighbor. I hope he enjoyed that DVD I gave his to skipper for him.

Now that I’m done wiping the Hummer’s windows, I’m going up to the boat because it’s time to completely read through the Hummer owner’s manual. This is a ritual that every new car owner usually does so they can look really smart when showing the car off to some friend whose envy is being solicited. I only get up to the part about how to regulate the air conditioning when more cop-types of people approach the boat and come aboard without even asking permission. Leading the parade is my ex-wife. Once inside the saloon, she points a finger at me and declares in her best official voice: “Peter Sharp, we have a warrant here for your arrest on the charge of attempted insurance fraud. You will be taken to the Culver Boulevard Pacific Division of the Los Angeles Police Department, where you will be processed. Your bail has been set at one hundred thousand dollars.” That having been said, she instructs the armed district attorney investigators who were with her to put me in handcuffs and take me away.

On the way out of the boat I notice that Suzi has been peeking through her slightly open stateroom door and taking the whole scene in. It’s embarrassing. Even though we’ve never really spoken to each other, I feel ashamed to be taken away like this with her watching. This isn’t a very good example for her legal guardian to be setting.

By the time Myra and her gang drive the five miles or so to the Police Station, I realize that the word must have gotten out about my arrest, because the media is out in front of the station waiting for us. When I see my dear ex-wife parading in front of the news cameras, the mystery of how word must have leaked out is solved. She’s in her usual rare form.

Every time you open your refrigerator door, you can be confident that the little light inside will go on. The same type of reliability can be said for my ex-wife. Every time you stick a microphone in front of her face, she starts making a public statement. This time it’s no different, except for the fact that today’s sounds a little more rehearsed.

“
Our office is pleased to announce that we’ve solved an almost ten-year-old murder case. This afternoon we have arrested a prominent Marina del Rey attorney, who will be charged with conspiring to perpetrate a fraud upon the victim’s insurance company. His co-conspirator, also arrested earlier today, is none other than the actual murderer, Doctor Sherman Gault, who had formerly been acquitted of the crime. We can’t try him again for the murder, so this time he’ll be sent away for the insurance fraud conspiracy. Our office will be issuing a formal statement tomorrow morning. Thank you.”

Once I get handed over to the jailer, Myra and her investigators leave, and I’m pleasantly surprised to be treated quite well here. I’ve known the jailer from past dealings in this police division, but this is my first time as a prisoner. His courtesy surprises me.

“
Well, Mister Sharp, it’s nice to see you finally decided to give my little domain some business. Why don’t you sit down over there and relax. Once we’ve finished with the booking process, you can go out into the lobby and wait. Your bail has already been arranged and your sponsor will be picking you up in a few minutes. Sorry to see you go so soon. Maybe the next time you’ll stay with us a little longer.” I remember seeing this jailer recently. He’s part of the lunch crowd at the Chinese restaurant, and also no doubt a big fan of Suzi’s. No wonder I never see the inside of a cell today. That little kid’s got more juice on this side of town than the governor.

The most surprising event of the afternoon isn’t the arrest, because I knew that sooner or later my ex-wife would set me up for something or other; it’s the fact that the jailer was expecting me and that I’ve already been bailed out. After the friendly jailer finishes up his paperwork, I’m allowed to sit on the ‘visitor’s’ bench near the station’s front door. When my sponsor arrives she doesn’t come into the building. Instead, she just stands there holding the door open. I know this is a request for me to get up off my rear end and follow her and the Saint Bernard outside and to alleged freedom.

I’ve never ridden in a little electric car with a twelve-year-old driving, but for some strange reason I feel safe. The dog doesn’t give up his usual front seat, so I’m now riding in the back, which is another invasion of the cat’s private space and earns me a constant glare from those green little eyes.

As usual, there is no conversation on the way back to the Marina. When we board the boat I think it’s time to break the silence between us. I now feel certain that she speaks English, and hasn’t said anything to me in the past months because she just didn’t have anything she wanted to tell me. I take a chance: “Suzi, I don’t know how you did it, but thank you. I hope you realize that this is all a big mistake. Honest, I didn’t do what they’re accusing me of.” To my great surprise, as she’s about to enter her stateroom, she finally decides to honor me with a statement:

“
I know you didn’t do it. The firm’s funds were used to bail out both you and the doctor. His daughter was sent to pick him up because he was arrested in town and taken to Parker Center’s jail, downtown. We’re now preparing documentation for your false arrest suit.” But that isn’t all. Her final declaration is “dinner will be ready a half hour late tonight. I was busy with other things this afternoon.”

Will wonders ever cease? She finally talked to me. I feel honored and at the same time scolded for taking her away from her busy afternoon schedule to bail me out of jail.

Less than an hour has passed and Rita is here with her father. He’s apologetic. “Peter, I’m sorry you had to go through all this: it’s all part of being involved with an acquitted murderer.” His daughter slaps him on the arm for describing himself that way

“
Stop it, dad, you’re not an acquitted murderer, you’re an innocent man who was railroaded.” I don’t like to see them bicker like that, so I break into the conversation and try to change the subject away from his past accusations of guilt.

“
Oh, don’t worry about it… I look forward to every meeting with my ex-wife. Let me bring you up to date and then we can plan some strategy.” I tell them about the letter that was sent to the insurance company and the fact that all we offered to do was identify a burial site and provide DNA samples for positive identification. Rita questions my letter.

“
Don’t you think it would have been better to tell them the whole story? That mother has been alive all these years and just died last week? If you would have done that, they probably wouldn’t have arrested you and daddy.” I disagree with her.

“
There’s been no crime committed. This is nothing more than the filing of a normal claim to collect on a deceased spouse’s life insurance policy. If there had been no past accusation of murder, no trial and no acquittal, and this was just a case of a husband putting in a claim after his insured wife’s death, no more than I offered would be asked for or expected. There’s no reason for us to jump through imagined hoops.

“
Furthermore, the actions of the insurance company probably led to our arrests today. My office staff seems to feel that their pre-mature suspicions were conveyed to the district attorney’s office, and they also acted before they had their facts lined up. All of this will lead to a bigger damage award when we rub their noses in the truth about your mother’s life and death. I’m sorry to make it look like anything here is being done for profit or to exploit the loss of your mother, but these people have put your family through hell over the years, and now it’s time for some payback.”

Rita has a question that is shared by many of the news commentators.

“
Isn’t this a case of double jeopardy? I mean, they’re not supposed to try a person for the same crime twice are they?” That’s a good question she has there and some clarification is called for.

“
They’re not, because this is a completely different crime with a different set of facts. In the first trial he was charged with murder, and at that point in time he hadn’t made any attempt to collect on her life insurance policy because, as we now know, she was still alive. The District attorney’s office probably made sure the insurance company red tagged that policy for all these years, just waiting for someone to put a claim in, and someone finally did. Unfortunately, it was yours truly.”

Doc has obviously been doing some reading on the matter. “Aren’t they trying to make some changes to that double jeopardy law?”

“
Yes, but not here. The Law Commission of England and Wales recommended that the law of double jeopardy be relaxed in circumstances where there’s compelling new evidence, but it’ll never get passed there and I don’t think it will here, either.”

“
Why not, Peter? The public is against criminals getting away with anything.”

“
You’re right, doc, but who would you have making the decision of whether or not the new evidence is ‘compelling?’ You can’t bring a person back in for another trial and expect it to be fair when a jury already knows that the only reason the defendant’s being tried over again is because the judge has seen the new evidence and now knows the defendant is guilty. That completely blows the whole presumption of innocence, which is fragile enough already. The concept of single jeopardy has been on the books since the 12
^th
century, and it’s withstood all challenges since then, so I think it’ll hold up for a while longer.