Foreclosure: A Novel (35 page)

David cleared his throat. “So you now agree that the fire was accidental?”

“That’s right. The gas line.”

David paused, making sure he’d heard correctly. Then he glanced back at Terry, who gave him a quick thumbs-up. “No further questions.” He could have used a wheelchair to get him back to his seat.

Judge Cox leaned in Vasquez’s direction with a hint of amused pity. “Any redirect, Mr. Vasquez?”

Vasquez stood, took a deep breath, and thanked the judge. He was trying to play it cool, but everyone in the courtroom had just watched his case fall off the tracks and go up in flames.

“Captain Ashcroft, when did you realize that your opinion was wrong?” he asked in a defeated voice.

“When I had an opportunity to review the expert report of the defendant.”

“And when was that?” Vasquez asked.

“Last month, I suppose.”

“So that was after your deposition in this case?”

Ashcroft nodded.

“And how did you obtain a copy of that report?”

Ashcroft glanced at David again. “The defendant’s counsel provided me with a copy.”

“And when you refer to defendant’s counsel, do you mean Mr. Friedman sitting here?” Vasquez pointed to David.

Ashcroft took a slow look at David and then nodded his head. “Yes. He provided me with it.”

David wanted to stand and correct this on the record. He’d never provided Ashcroft or anyone at his office with their expert report. But how could he? Ashcroft had gutted Vasquez’s case. Nothing Vasquez’s expert said now would have any credibility. David sat back, wondering where the lies began and where they ended.

“So you just accepted their report as true?” Vasquez might as well throw his notes away now.

“Of course not. I went back and reviewed the evidence. In my professional opinion, they—that is, the defendant’s expert—got it right.”

Vasquez looked like he’d like to get under the table and open a bottle of booze. “So you were wrong then, but now you’re right?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t it just as likely that you’re wrong now and were right then?”

Bad question
, David thought, and the look on Vasquez’s face said he knew it was too.

“I believe this, what I testified to today, is the correct conclusion,” Ashcroft explained.

“But Mr. Ashcroft, the state investigators … Isn’t it their job to get it right the first time?”

“Absolutely, but it’s also our duty to admit when we make a mistake. And here we made a mistake.”

“Now, Mr. Ashcroft. You are over sixty years old, are you not?”

“I am.”

“You’ll be retiring at the end of next year?”

“That’s correct.” Ashcroft glanced at the jurors with a look of insult.

“So it’s fair to say, you’re not as sharp as you used to be?”

The jurors made a collective frown at this line of questioning, but there was a distinct scowl on the face of Ms. Ida McCormick, juror five, who happened to be sixty-five years old.

Ashcroft smiled with humility. “That’s probably true, Mr. Vasquez. And that very well might explain my initial error. But I think we’ve got it right. And I asked two of my junior investigators, very sharp guys, to take look at it, too. They’re both younger than you, Mr. Vasquez, and they both agreed.”

Vasquez stared at defeat, and then at the judge. “Your Honor, I move to strike the last response on grounds of hearsay.”

“You’re welcome to call them,” Ashcroft said with a damning smile. “They’ll tell you the same thing.”

David stood to respond to the objection, but Judge Cox ruled on his own. “Overruled.”

David took a seat. It was obvious the jury loved this; they were getting their money’s worth for skipping work this week.

Vasquez leaned over the lectern, trying to salvage whatever scraps of the case he could. “Fire Marshal Ashcroft, did you receive any compensation or promise of compensation from the defendants in consideration for the profound change in your opinion in this case?”

Good question
, David thought. Just not for trial.

Ashcroft crossed his arms and reclined in his seat. “Mr. Vasquez, that is the most ridiculous question I have ever been asked. I am a public official. I could care less who prevails in this lawsuit. I only want justice to be done. I am more than willing, indeed it is my professional duty, to admit when I am wrong about a conclusion. And I freely admit that my initial conclusion in this case was in error. For you to accuse me of criminal behavior because of my opinion … well, I guess nothing surprises me anymore.” Ashcroft smiled apologetically at the jurors. They all smiled back.

Vasquez stared at his notes. He seemed afraid to touch them, as though they were on fire. “Your Honor, I have no further questions for this witness.”

As David waited for the next witness, he realized that this was no longer his trial. He slowly turned to Frank, who was grinning like a teenage boy after his first time getting to second base. Frank leaned close.

“I told you it would be good.”

That evening, David returned to the office following an afternoon during which things did not improve for Victor Vasquez and Continental Assurance Company. After Ashcroft’s testimony, David was easily able to decimate the plaintiff’s arson expert during cross-examination. The jury seemed to sleep through the rest of the afternoon, and juror number five made it a point to scowl at Vasquez any time their eyes met. David knew he was winning this case, but the farther the trial went, the less he wanted anything to do with it. He approached Beatrice as she was shutting her computer down for the evening. “What did you find out?”

Before she could answer, he felt a hard succession of pats on the back.

It was Terry. “I stopped by for your cross of their expert this afternoon. You killed him, kid. You killed him.” He glanced at Beatrice. “He killed him, Beatrice.”

She smiled, something she’d never done for David. “Good afternoon, Mr. Jenkins.”

“Is Alton around?” Terry asked.

“He’s out this afternoon.” She glared at David to make sure he’d heard that too.

“Tell him I stopped by,” Terry said. Then to David, “Drop in before you leave tonight.”

“I’ll try,” David said. After Terry left, David stood over Beatrice. “What did you find out about Xerxes Capital?”

“A file was opened,” she whispered. “That’s all I can tell.”

David felt like he’d been sucker punched. As much as he’d known it was true, he didn’t want it to be. “When did they become a client?” he asked.

“In January.”

“Of?”

“This year, 2008.”

Just as David expected: when Steve Salvo and Dan Chase had been in town. “Who opened it?”

“I can’t tell you. I don’t know. It’s a confidential file.”

“A confidential file?”

“Yes. He opens them from time to time.”

“Who does?” David asked.

“Mr. Holloway, of course. Only he can open a confidential file.”

“Where is he, Beatrice?”

Beatrice shook her head. “I’m not getting fired for you. You can—” she stopped herself from cursing and took a deep breath. “Good night, Mr. Friedman.”

David plopped down in his office. The place seemed bare right now. Everything seemed bare. The county fire marshal, a man respected more than God in Gaspar County, had just lied on the witness stand about David providing him with an expert report that all but exonerated David’s client. And David had done nothing to correct the lies.

His phone rang. He wasn’t surprised to see who was calling.

“Where the hell did you go?” Vasquez asked. “I wanted to talk, but you were gone when I turned around.”

“I had to take care of something at work.”

Vasquez chortled. “Well, I got to hand it to Fire Marshal Al Ashcroft. He wasn’t afraid to admit he’d changed his mind. I guess he’s going to be set up for his retirement.”

“What do you want, Victor?”

“I think you know what I want. Why don’t we talk about this over a drink?”

David found Vasquez right where he’d said he would be waiting, at the bar in his hotel—the same Hilton where David first met Frank O’Reilly. Vasquez wore the same suit he’d had on at trial today, but he’d lost the tie and top few buttons. His relaxed demeanor said the trial was all but over for him.

David took a seat facing him.

“I should have hired you when I had the chance.” Vasquez’s upper lip curled from whatever he was drinking.

“It was out of your control,” David said.

Vasquez twirled his drink a few times. “I probably told you back then, it takes a soulless bastard to do this line of work. Whatever you did today was nothing short of ingenious.”

David let out a furtive sigh. “We’re ready to talk.”

Vasquez took a long drink and cleared this throat. “They want to settle this. Today.”

“Then what? You go after the gas contractor? The never-ending cycle continues?”

“Maybe, though I think he’s dead too.”

David felt a chill thinking about the names of the dead Beth had spouted off during her last tirade at the FBI office.

Vasquez seemed able to read David’s mind. “Makes you wonder what they’d do to their attorney, doesn’t it?” he asked.

David shook that off and said, “My guys won’t take less than policy limits.”

“And who are your guys?”

“What does it matter?”

“We’ll pay it.”

“Plus attorney’s fees,” David said.

“Only caveat: we get a full release and waiver, including bad faith.”

“Then throw in another million.”

Vasquez mulled it over, and then nodded. “Can I buy you a drink?”

David shook his head. “I don’t drink.”

Back at the office, David hung his head in Terry’s doorway. “We’re done.”

Terry covered the phone receiver. “What do you mean?”

“I just settled it.”

“Hey, I got to go,” Terry said into the phone. He set it down. “You really settled the case?”

“Full policy limits, plus fees and a million to settle the bad-faith claim.”

Terry fell back into his chair, floored. It seemed to take a moment to set in, but once it did, his eyes grew wide and he started laughing. “I’m proud of you, kid. I’m so proud of you.” He hopped up and hugged his protégé, lifting him six inches off the ground. “O’Reilly must be ecstatic,” he said as he set him back down.

“Actually, he seemed like he expected this.”

“That’s why they pay us the big bucks.” Terry studied him for a moment. “You’ve done a great job. So what have you learned from this case?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“It’ll take some time.” Terry nodded toward the doorway. “Listen, close the door.”

David pulled the door closed and took a seat.

“Tomorrow’s the partners’ meeting. A lot of big moves are in play around here. I can guarantee you, though, this seals the deal for you. Hell, the deal was already sealed. But you get this signed tonight, you’ll be the first person at this firm to go straight to equity partner since … hell, since me. Do you know how much money you’re going to make next year?”

“Have you seen Alton lately?” David asked.

“Don’t worry about him. What have I always told you? Let me worry about Alton. I can guarantee you, he’s in your corner.”

“It’s not that. Just, hell. I’m just beat, Terry. I have to get this wrapped up tonight.”

“Listen, I was kidding about getting it signed tonight. Let’s relax tonight. Have a drink and celebrate.”

“No, I really do need to get it signed now. The insurance company wants the deal done. They don’t want another day of trial. They want to make the payment this year for tax purposes, and they won’t dismiss until the ink is dry.”

“Good thinking.” Terry studied him another moment. “What’s really on your mind, kid?”

David considered telling him about Xerxes Capital and what he had to do about it. But Terry always seemed to be on Alton’s side when push came to shove. “It’s personal.”

Terry paused a moment before nodding. “Look, I don’t care what it is. You let me pound this agreement out tonight. You go do what you have to do. I’ll get in touch with Vasquez and O’Reilly to finish this.”

“You sure, Terry?”

“Absolutely.”

David stood to leave.

“Just one catch,” Terry said.

“What’s that?”

“You come by my house later tonight and have a drink.”

“Deal.”

David paced back and forth in front of the Forest Glenn Country Club, knowing well that if Alton was anywhere other than the office, it was likely to be here. The realization that he had won this case and that he was about to make partner had slowly set in—and he would have done anything to cleanse himself of how that felt. He wondered why he hadn’t just told Terry about his misgivings about Alton. He should have been straight with him and admitted he wasn’t sure whether he even wanted to be partners with a man like Alton Holloway. Especially if what he suspected about Xerxes Capital was true. Terry would understand, and if he didn’t, then maybe he wasn’t the guy David thought he was. With no more time or patience to waste, David took a deep breath and entered the club. He passed by the maître d’ and told him he was meeting a party.

“What party is that, sir?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” he said and walked away.

The dining room was filled with men who looked like Alton from behind. David circled the room getting a good look at the Holloway clones, but then he stopped when he spotted a woman whom he’d never mistake for another. As he watched her chatting it up, he realized that he hadn’t seen her around the office much recently, either.

Mackenzie Alderman sat at the head of a table flanked by a group of men who seemed to be fawning over her every word and gesture.

David arrived at the table while she was doing what she did best, and they were eating out of her hand.

“He made two million off that client in less than two years, and they paid every bill within thirty days. That’s the kind of client we need.” She took a drink without noticing David.

“That is remarkable,” the man to her left said. He paused when he saw David.

Then all eyes at the table turned to David, and Mackenzie’s were the last to follow.