Writ of Execution (4 page)

Of course, he wasn’t the winner.

“I can’t believe this!” the girl said to Kenny. “Did it really happen?” She combed a hand through her hair. “Why me? I can’t even imagine—what if it’s really true?”

“Might as well be struck by lightning,” Nina said.

“I—I just don’t believe it’s true,” the girl went on. “How can I jump up and down? People like me don’t have this kind of luck.”

Paul said to the girl, “That’s a lot of silver dollars. It is going to change your life. Unless you’re already rich?”

She answered him with a short laugh. “I have two hundred sixty dollars left in my checking account. I’m staying with my aunt because I can’t afford my own place. I need to buy food. I need to pitch in on the rent. I’ve got a part-time job that pays peanuts, no future at all that I could see, in fact, until just this moment.”

“Why were you gambling?” Paul asked. “I mean, you say you were practically broke.”

All three of the other people in the room stared at him.

“Okay, dumb question.”

“There actually was a reason,” she said. “I thought someone might be following me. I ducked into the casino to hide. I wasn’t planning to stay long. You know, it does bring up another question, though. Why did I throw my money away down that machine? And the answer is—because there’s something so hopeful about gambling, showing you have . . . faith in the future.”

“Or just believe in good luck or a benign universe,” Kenny said. “Not that I actually do.”

“It’s a dream, one of those dreams that come around sometimes where you live out your wishes. I just don’t want to give my name and I don’t want anyone to know about this.”

“I’m sure the casino will demand a photograph and a name,” Nina said.

“They took a picture already, which I ducked. I don’t think they got much,” the girl said.

“You didn’t give them your name?” Nina asked.

The girl looked embarrassed, then evasive. “I’m afraid I won’t get the money after all, but I do need it. I need it! So I thought a lawyer could think of something and I called Sandy”— Nina noted this use of Sandy’s first name—“and she said she’d call you. I know it was lousy timing.”

“The way it was described to me, I wouldn’t have missed coming here for anything,” Nina said. “I’m not going to insist that you tell me your identity right now. It’s plain that you have some reason you don’t want it known, and there’s no confidentiality privilege at this moment because Paul and Mr. Leung are here also. You understand that? We can talk alone in a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

“What happened when you refused to give your name?”

“They said, ‘You have to.’ This was while we were still on the casino floor. I couldn’t answer. But then I got an idea.”

“She told them to call her Mrs. Leung,” Leung said, leaning forward. “She used my name.”

“Are you married to Mr. Leung?” Nina asked.

“No, ma’am! I don’t even know him! He was just sitting on the stool next to me jabbering at me and he had told me his name and that he didn’t have any money. I didn’t know what to do. They were pressing me and pressing me. So I thought, Well, I’ll pay him to use his name.”

“You have agreed to pay Mr. Leung—Kenny—some money?”

“A million dollars,” the girl said.

5

“STOP RIGHT THERE,” Nina said. She looked at Kenny Leung. He was trying to look nonchalant.

“Here’s my plan,” the girl said. “We go back to the casino. I say I can’t find my ID, that I don’t have my driver’s license because my husband drove us up here from the Bay Area. And I’ll tell them to cut the check in my husband’s name. We’ll use his Social Security number since you need one.

“But then I have to be protected since it’s not my name on the check. Kenny has to sign a paper that says the jackpot isn’t really his. And we need an agreement between us that he will be paid when I get my check. That’s where you come in.”

Nina said, “That’s your plan?”

“Right.”

“Some plan,” Paul said.

“And what do you think about this, Mr. Leung?” Nina asked.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was her idea. I’m helping her. It’s fair compensation for losing my virginity,” Leung said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “That’s a joke.”

“You’re not even close to losing your virginity, trust me,” the girl said.

“Well, anyway, it’s only about twelve point eight percent of the winnings. That’s a fair percentage, if she can’t collect without me. Besides, why not? One final futile gesture in the face of an indifferent universe. Indifferent to me, anyway.”

He was waving his arms and blinking rapidly as he spoke, and he looked more and more like a Dilbert who had escaped his cubicle, not the type to rush into a wild scheme like this so enthusiastically. How drunk was he? And what was he doing with a gun? Still, for that amount of money, anybody would feel adventurous.

“And you think I can write up an agreement tonight between you and Kenny that will ensure that Kenny turns that money over to you when the check clears?” Nina asked the girl.

“What do you mean, when the check clears?”

“Well,” Nina said, “the bank is going to want a week to ten days to process it. Minimum. I’m talking about the first check. It’ll be paid in installments over twenty years. I have no idea how much the initial payout will be. But it certainly will be a week or two before you have any cash in hand.”

“No,” the girl said. She looked over at Kenny Leung, who nodded. “The casino said that they were having a special promotion on the Greed Machines and the jackpot was an instant payout.”

“That’s right,” Kenny said. “They said it would all be paid tonight, if we make it back there to collect it, that is.”

A silence fell over them. Nina was having trouble imagining a seven-million-dollar check. “That’s very unusual,” she said at last. “But you’re still going to be signing at least one document under penalty of perjury that certifies that you’re married and that this is your name. Giving a false name will certainly be looked at as some sort of attempt to avoid paying taxes.”

“You’re saying there’s nothing I can do?” She sagged back into her chair, overwhelmed with disappointment.

“I’m not saying that. Don’t tell me your name and please don’t tell me if you’re wanted for a crime. But I need a general overview. Why can’t you give your name?”

“Publicity.”

Nina nodded. “Someone will know you won?” “Someone will be able to find me. He’ll find me, and then . . .” Her voice had risen.

“And then what?”

“He’ll come after me. Maybe kill me.”

“Is this the man you thought you saw following you?” Paul asked.

She nodded. “No one should know I’m here or who I am. I don’t have anywhere else I can run. I’ve been safe here, but now—unless I can think of something—can’t you help me? Can’t anybody help me? There must be a way.” She rocked the chair closer to Nina’s desk and leaned forward. “I didn’t have the money two hours ago—I should just leave, but—but—I need it, you understand? I have to take the risk, I need that money! I had no life before, just fear.”

They sat around and thought.

“Why can’t it just be simple?” the girl said, calming down. “Why are there always strings? Why can’t it be—”

“Unalloyed,” Kenny Leung said, eyebrows drawn together as if he were reevaluating the adventure. Some of the strings on the money were starting to look more like steel cables.

Nina checked her watch. She felt a headache leaking from the left side of her head to the right. She was not at her sharpest after midnight. “Is this someone you are afraid of connected with law enforcement?” she asked.

“Oh, no.”

“Someone’s trying to kill you. That’s what you said, right?”

“He wants to take me down. But he’s not going to. If I have to kill him first, I will. I’m trained in weaponry and self-defense. It has to stop here.” She squared her jaw. Nina suspected that a buff physique was in hiding underneath the jeans and sweater.

“I see.” Nina gave Paul a sideways glance. He didn’t look like he had any bright ideas, and he didn’t look happy.

“You think I’m crazy or paranoid,” the girl said. “I’m not.”

“Then your safety has to come first,” Nina said.

Paul jumped in. “Then this is really your lucky day. I have quite a bit of security experience, up to and including securing the safety of a United States senator. I’ll go with you and stay with you until other arrangements can be made. You won’t be harmed. You won’t have to defend yourself.”

The girl said, “You have to accept that if he finds out where I am, there will be nothing anyone can do to stop him.”

“Your name’s going to be splattered across the pages of newspapers all over the U.S.,” Paul said, “whether you like it or not. This is not like the lottery, where you have some control, at least right at first.”

Nina said, “If you do claim the jackpot, the casino may require you to sign paperwork agreeing to have your name and picture used for publicity purposes. Do you have a restraining order against this man that is after you? You’ve tried to stop him? There is a strong stalking statute in this state.”

“The law. Sure,” she said. “Forget it.”

“Why? Why haven’t you gone to the police?” Paul asked.

“I tried that already, before I came here. Somehow, there’s never any evidence.”

Paul started to ask another question, and Nina understood his curiosity, but they had already gone too far. She shook her head once, sharply, and he sat back in his chair.

“Can’t you do anything to help me?” the girl said, turning back to Nina. “Tell me what to do! Is it hopeless? Do I have to just blow the money off?” She leaned back, as if exhausted with the effort of explaining.

“I could put it in my trust account,” Nina said. “But I can’t just go in as your agent without you and keep you anonymous. It’s the IRS. They’ll insist on something from you. We could demand that your name not be provided to the press, but—”

“Get real,” Paul interrupted.

“What about my idea? Telling them I’m married? Giving them a name?” the girl said.

“You’re saying, Kenny gets handed the check and he hands it over to me, right there at the casino. That would keep it safe and gain us time. But you’d still be lying about your name. It could void the jackpot. I’m sure that there will be some sort of rule providing that. They are just not going to let you get away with using a false name.”

“Then I guess I can’t go back.”

Kenny Leung’s alarm lifted him out of his slump. Paul looked exasperated.

“Listen,” Nina said sharply to the girl. “Do you realize what you’re saying? You stand to lose a fortune simply by refusing to give your name. Give your name, take the money, hire lawyers and bodyguards, and live behind an electrified gate.”

“He’ll find me within twenty-four hours. He’ll do worse than kill me.”

Her chilling words ratcheted up the tension in the room. What could be worse than death? Nina asked herself. Was this person a sexual predator?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paul said, his voice crisp, professional. Nina had watched the way his body hardened before her eyes, tensing at the first whiff of violence. That was the trouble with both of them, Nina thought. They were always trying to fix everybody’s problems, even the impossible ones. Paul’s methods were very different from hers, though. She chased away that uncomfortable thought.

The girl shook her head and closed her eyes. Against tears? When she opened them again, she looked dry-eyed and resolved. “It’s our only hope, pretending we’re married. Him getting the money and me getting it from him.”

“No,” Nina said. “You’re not married and you can’t get away with pretending.” What had just occurred to her was too far out to say out loud, and certainly went beyond her charter as a legal adviser. Why, here they were smack in the middle of the land of easy marriage and divorce. . . . Just a few miles from an instant, prepackaged, lifetime commitment. “Pretending will just get you in trouble. Too bad you aren’t really married. That would make things easier.” She crossed her leg and examined her shoe, wondering who in the room would be first to reveal a mind as twisted as hers.

A pause, while the words sank in. The girl picked up on it first. “What if—what if we don’t pretend. What if we actually got married?” She turned to face Kenny, who was shaking his head violently.

“The normal world of love, marriage, and children is mine only in fantasy. There’s a church in the City of Gold, and a synagogue, and a mosque, and a Buddhist temple. Sanctuaries and celebrations everywhere . . . but not for me. I can’t marry you like this. I am not worthy. I can perpetrate a fraud, yes, certainly, I can die for you—would you like me to die for you? Just say the word—and my mother would be furious with me, how could I do it to her, Tan-Mo is never going to get married, I was supposed to carry on the family name . . .”

They all stared at him. Was he still drunk? He went on in this vein for some time, spouting irrelevancies.

“Well, that’s real useful,” said Paul. “But I am impressed that you’re turning down the money. As well you should.”

“I didn’t mean that. Just not—not a real marriage. Use of my once-proud name, that’s what I signed up for—”

“Got any more coffee around here?” the girl said, rising. Nina pointed toward the empty pot.

The girl went into the next room and ground coffee, interrupting Kenny’s filibuster with the noise. “Look,” she said when she came back in. “Show some courage, Kenny. At least show some greed. I’m not paying you otherwise. I’ve decided. It’s our only chance. We could go right away. It’s only forty-five minutes to Reno.”

“Are you proposing to me, Joya?” Kenny said, finally focusing. He stood up. “But your timing is so bad. I can’t get married now. I’m a dead man! And anyway, my mother would want to be there. . . .”

“Not a real marriage,” the girl soothed him. “Just a formality, Kenny, a kind of fantasy. Like—like the City of Gold. Something beautiful but—temporary.”

“Marry you right now? A virtual marriage?”

“In name only, just until we get the money.” She lost patience. “You know, I’m offering to pay you extremely well. You haven’t earned anything yet, buddy.”

Kenny folded his arms in front of him. “I don’t know. This is not as simple and direct as it first appeared. If it’s a sign, it should go down easy. Smoothly. It should interrupt the fatal flow and provide a convenient bend, not a lot of twists and turns.”

“A million dollars,” the girl said.

Kenny appeared to be computing something in his head. “It’s too neat. It’s very suspicious. It’s like a folktale, and you are the princess come to rescue me, but I don’t really believe—”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Paul interrupted. “Nina, how can we do this without him?”

“No, no. I’ll do it. I always do it in the end. Lunge for that brass ring. Fall off the horse. I’ll do it.”

He earned a brilliant smile. “I won’t let you back out.”

“Now, listen here,” Paul said.

The girl said, “Deal.”

Kenny shuffled over to her and bent over her hand, planting a semisober, wet kiss. The Cary Grant effect he must have intended fell slightly short due to the pungency of his breath, which reached all the way to Nina several feet away.

Paul gave a lopsided smile, the one that said, This is complete and total bullshit; what loony bin have I landed in?

But Nina couldn’t resist. “Are you married now?” she asked the girl.

“No.”

Paul said. “Nina? Isn’t this illegal?”

“Do I have this straight? Are you paying him to marry you?” she asked the girl.

“You’re the lawyer. You tell me what to call it, if it’s illegal for him to marry me for the money. Isn’t there something called a prenuptial agreement?”

“It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that’s been done,” Paul said.

Nina shook her head. “Kenny, what about you? Are you married?”

“Never been married. I’ve been saving myself for Joya.” He raised his eyebrow to the girl. He reminded Nina of Mike Myers trying to be debonair, the smile that was a little too wide, the too-bright eyes.

“Let me see your driver’s license.” Kenny reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a wallet. He handed Nina his license. Nina passed it on to Paul. Kenneth Leung, aka Tan-Kwo Leung, street address in Mountain View, California. Born in 1972. Sixty-eight inches tall, one hundred eighty-four pounds. Must wear corrective lenses. The license was current. The photo had caught Leung with his eyes at half-mast.

“I am not a crook,” Kenny said in a gruff voice, raising his hands and making V-signs with his fingers. He laughed. Nobody else did.

“Could have fooled me,” Paul said. “What’s with the alternate name?”

“I felt I needed an easier name for business,” he said. “A Caucasian one. It’s perfectly innocent and legal. Turns out I was wrong. Half the people I deal with speak Chinese or Japanese.”

Paul went into the front office and photocopied Kenny’s license, then handed it back.

“Nina . . .” he said.

“Just a minute, Paul. The good news is, marriage wouldn’t give Kenny any legal claim on the money, because the marriage took place after the jackpot.”

“I just want my share,” Kenny offered.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Paul said. “It’s too much money.”