William Lashner - Fatal Flaw

“I understand why you wanted it kept secret. Red Book Insurance is your largest and oldest client. It bought this building for you, paneled your offices. It keeps you in feed, and not chicken feed at that. If you had told them what happened right at the start, you could have weathered it, maybe, but you kept it from them, kept it your little secret. For them to find out now would destroy the relationship irrevocably. They’d leave, for sure, and the scandal would convince others to leave, too. Who could ever trust your firm after this? It would be over for Dawson, Cricket and Peale, except at the unemployment line.”

“You’re barking off half-cocked.”

“I can tell I’m right, you’re mixing metaphors. What I don’t understand is how you expected it to stay a secret. It wasn’t hidden, really. All it took was a visit to the clerk’s office, a review of the case files, the discovery of a medical malpractice action entitled Juan Gonzalez v. Dr. Irwin Glass et al. The whole story is there right on the docket sheet. I found it all yesterday, after my little breakfast meeting with Skink. Representing the plaintiff: Hailey Prouix, Esquire. Representing the defendant doctor and insurance company: Guy Forrest, Esquire. Oh, not only Guy, your name was at the top of the list of lawyers, you were the billing partner, I suppose, but Guy did the work. It was on that case that he met Hailey, wasn’t it? It was during the length of the litigation that he dined her, romanced her, seduced her. And after the settlement, after the three million dollars were handed from the insurance company to the plaintiff, about the going rate for a man entering the hospital for routine prostate surgery and leaving in a coma, Guy ditched his wife, his children, your firm, to move in with Hailey. Living on her share of the award, her one-third, a cool mil.”

“It was a solid case,” said Peale. “The settlement was a fair one. I oversaw it all. For the three million dollars Red Book escaped exposure to a much larger amount, an amount that could have crippled its operations.”

“Maybe, but I think not. I think there was something there that would have won the case for Red Book, some hard piece of evidence that Guy hid until after the settlement was signed and the money paid and Guy and Hailey had a million dollars to start their lives together. Otherwise he would have dropped off the case once the relationship started. Otherwise Hailey Prouix would have insisted on it. Why allow even the tinge of impropriety to hazard the settlement somewhere down the line? Why put a million dollars at risk? Unless it was the only way to get the million dollars in the first place. I had wondered why Hailey’s big fee was placed in a joint account, and now I know, because they both earned it. And you knew, didn’t you? You knew and tried to keep it quiet. That’s why you wanted the plea accepted. That’s why you sent Skink to threaten me.”

I was guessing, this last part about the hidden evidence, but it was a guess that made sense, and Jonah Peale’s reaction, a sort of head swivel of frustration, told me that my guess was spot on.

“You have no proof,” he said.

“I don’t need proof right now, all I need is to know I’m right. It won’t be too hard to find what it was Guy hid, now that we know what to look for. And wouldn’t Red Book be interested as hell in seeing it for themselves?”

Jonah Peale’s face turned pale and then paler still. He lost so much color I thought he would collapse, right there before me, collapse and fall off that chair. Then, suddenly, he composed himself, as if a knob had been turned. He took off his spectacles, cleaned the lenses with the tip of his bright red tie. “It would destroy this firm’s reputation,” he said calmly, “destroy the firm I’ve put my life into. I can’t allow that to happen.”

“So it’s not the family you’re concerned about, is it?”

“We all have our priorities. Why are you here?”

And there it was, the negotiation had begun. It was a pretty impressive performance by Peale, he had taken the shot, recovered, and now was ready to take control of the situation. Good for him, good for me.

“We both have an interest in keeping this information quiet,” I said. “If it becomes public, it could be damaging to my client’s case. As long as I control the disclosure, and the spin, I think I could manage it. I could even turn it to Guy’s advantage, paint Hailey as a schemer out for the money, reduce the natural sympathy for the victim. But still, it complicates things as far as motive. And, of course, to you it would be devastating. So I believe it is in our interests to work together to keep it quiet.”

“Agreed. What do you want?”

“I want Skink off my back.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“I don’t want to see him again. I don’t want him talking to anyone about this case in any way, shape, or form. It would be best if he took a vacation until this whole thing is cleared up.”

“He will be so instructed.”

“I see him, I hear word one from him or about him, then I’ll let out the information my way, and Red Book will know not only what Guy did but that you were hiding it from them.”

“You’ve made yourself clear.”

“I also assume there are documents showing what Guy discovered and hid. I assume there is a file.”

“Maybe there is.”

“If we agree to keep it quiet, I can’t afford to have it slip out when I least expect it. I don’t want anyone to control that information but me. I want the file. I want all copies of it.”

“That may prove difficult.”

“I don’t want to hear excuses.”

“It may prove difficult,” said Jonah Peale, “because if there is a file, I don’t have it.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not the type, Mr. Carl.”

“It must keep you up at night.”

“Yes, well, with the way my wife snores, I don’t get much sleep anyway.”

“Any ideas what happened to it?”

“Ask your client. Anything else?”

I sat for a moment, tapped my chin. “One more thing, I suppose. I like your tie.”

“Thank you.”

“I want it.”

He stared at me, hard. I was going way overboard, but there was a purpose to it. His face reddened with anger and then the color subsided. “I’ll messenger it over tomorrow.”

“Actually I was going out tonight, and it would go marvelously with my blue suit.”

He stared at me a moment longer, bloody daggers in his eyes, and then he reached a finger into the knot. As he worked the tie loose, his thin lips spread in an approximation of a smile. “You know, Victor, may I call you Victor? I suspect, Victor, that in the end we’ll work well together. I’ll make sure Mr. Skink is cooperative, as we discussed, but you might want to rethink Troy Jefferson’s offer. Hell, it really is the best that asshole could ever hope for. It would be to everyone’s benefit for this to go away. And as for your fee, which your expression told me had not been paid for in advance, if he takes the deal, I’ll make sure your fee is paid in full. Whatever the invoice says, no questions asked. He is family, after all, at least until the inevitable divorce.”

I slapped my thighs and stood. “Talk to Skink.”

He held out the tie. I stepped forward to take it. “Done,” he said.

“Good.” I turned to face the door and then stopped, turned around again. This was the moment, the crucial moment. It had to seem incidental, offhand. “By the way, you mentioned the inevitable divorce. Don’t be so sure about that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your daughter wants him back.”

“Of course she doesn’t.”

“I visited her just last week. She wants everything returned to the way it was before. Her husband back in her happy home, sharing her bed, raising their children.”