Our Little Secret Ch. 04

Joel left the building and grabbed a coffee at a nearby diner, and returned for his 2:30 appointment. Allison was a tall blonde woman. Joel guessed she must have been a stunner in her twenties, because she radiated a confident beauty in her mid-fifties. She wore long black slacks and a sliver silk top.

In his private meeting with Allison Benson, Joel commanded her to give him a copy of the most recent, detailed listing of Personal Valet's top performing customers. Allison left the office, and returned three minutes later with a bound copy. As he left Allison's office with the listing under his arm, Joel commanded her to never tell anyone about this.

Joel went back to the coffee shop, and looked at the thick listing. It had everything he needed – average annual purchase value, mailing address, phone number, the ten most recent purchases, their three most favorite Personal Shoppers, and a ton of sales performance metrics he didn't care about. There were four customers per page, and there were over 400 double sided pages in the book, although some pages were indexes that ranked customers in order by total sales, profitability, and order volume. Joel estimated there were 1,500 customer profiles in the book. A separate section listed the top 100 customers, and three of the top one hundred customers were in Atlanta.

Joel found an electronics kiosk, and bought a pre-paid cell phone. He studied the details of the first Atlanta customer, and then called her.

"Hello," came a frail voice.

"Hello, Mrs. Agatha McDougal?" he asked over the untraceable cell phone.

"Yes," she answered gruffly. "Who is this?"

"My name is Frank, and I am calling from the Home Mall Channel Personal Valet service." Technically, it was not a lie. Joel's middle name was Francis, which can commonly be shortened to Frank.

"Oh yes!" her voice cried out with happiness. "I don't think I have spoken with you before, have I Frank?"

"No, Mrs. McDougal. I am here in Atlanta, and I was wondering if I could come over and introduce myself, and see if there is anything we can do to make your Home Mall Chanel experience more enjoyable. I could stay for maybe an hour."

"Oh my!" she exclaimed with anticipation, "that would be wonderful. I'll tell Bishop you're coming."

Nothing in her profile mentioned anything about Bishop. "I am sorry, Mrs. McDougal, may I ask who is Bishop?"

"He is our doorman. You cannot get past him without my okay."

Joel thanked her and hung up. He took an Uber to her apartment building, and after checking his story, Bishop the doorman let him up to the penthouse suite. Thankfully, Frank explained Mrs. Agatha McDougal was expecting him, and Bishop did not ask to see identification.

Agatha was white haired and delicate, but not feeble. Joel guessed she was in her early eighties. She stood a hunched over five-foot-two and shuffled carefully across the floor when she walked. Seniors her age are all too aware a fall could leave devastating consequences.

Agatha chatted and babbled happily. She made tea for him and served biscuits. As the hour approached, Joel started to get up to leave.

"Oh, please stay a bit longer," Agatha asked. "I could make some more tea,"

"Well, I am sorry," Frank apologized, "I am really only allowed to spend an hour with you. You know how that works."

"I know," she bemoaned. "The phone people are the same."

"Well," Frank hesitated, "I suppose ... no, that wouldn't be fair."

"Yes ...?" she asked.

"Well, it has nothing to do about the Home Mall Channel, and seeing as our hour is up, maybe I could tell you a story about something that happened recently."

"Oh, yes!" she cheered. Frank told Agatha how three women in Boston were arrested. He did not go into the sordid details. Frank explained how it was not their fault – a man forced them to do it – but they were arrested, not him.

"Oh that's awful," Agatha consoled him.

Over the next ten minutes, Frank drew Agatha further and further into the horrible conspiracy waged against these three, lovely, polite, innocent young women who were victimized by a sexual predator and were being victimized again by the legal system. "You see," Frank explained, "they are just simple waitresses who work at a restaurant. They are good girls. They live at home with their parents. They cannot afford a good lawyer, and so they are going to go to prison for something that was not their fault."

"Well," Agatha said indignantly, "someone needs to do something about that."

"Yes," Frank leaned forward, "someone does." He commanded her. "Tell me how much money do you have?"

"Well, I am not entirely sure. When Raymond passed, all his money came to me, of course. Buford – that's Raymond's lawyer – he handled the estate, you know – he told me there was some fifteen million."

"How long ago did Raymond pass?"

"Seven years, now," she said melancholically.

"And how much of that money have you spent since then?"

"Well, none of it. I have my own money."

"And Raymond's money from the estate – it is in investments?" Joel asked. He was thinking this could be tricky, cashing in stocks and mutuals.

"No, no," Agatha clucked. "I told Buford to put the whole thing in the bank. I don't want to deal with investments. That's all Raymond ever did – handle his investments. Sell this, buy that. He did it all the time. It drove me crazy. No, I can't do that. It's all in the bank, you see." Joel did see. He saw this was a perfect candidate for the use-it-or-lose-it principle.

"So if you wrote a check for five million dollars," Joel asked, "would it clear?"

"Well," Agatha paused, "you see Raymond's money is in a different account. I don't have five million in my account. I would have to have the bank move the money into my checking account first."

"And who handles your finances for things like that," Joel asked.

"A nice lady from the bank comes over and sees me when I call her," she explained. "Rose, I think her name is. She brings over all the paper work and I sign it." With that much money sitting in the bank, Joel wasn't surprised Agatha received house call service like that.

"Phone Rose," Joel commanded, "and tell her to come over here so you can transfer five million from Raymond's account into your checking account."

"I have her number over here," Agatha shuffled to the phone table. She opened an old fashioned phone listing book with handwritten entries, and found Rose's number, and dialed. After a long conversation, Agatha hung up and said Rose would be over tomorrow morning at ten with the necessary paperwork for Agatha to sign.

"Now," Joel commanded her, "write a cheque out to Joel Winkman for five million dollars. And in the memo of the check, write 'Gift'." Joel took a business course in college, and one thing he learned was when you give a gift of money to someone else, the donor, not the recipient, pays the tax. Joel was about to receive five million dollars tax free.

She wrote the check, and tore it from the checkbook, and gave it to Joel. "Be sure to tell your accountant about this," Joel told her. Joel would declare this as a gift on his tax return, and he didn't want the IRS coming after him because she didn't pay her gift tax. Never hide money from the IRS, Joel knew.

Joel wrote down his prepaid cell number on a piece of paper. "Call this number and tell me when you have transferred the five million into your checking account," Joel commanded her. She took the number and put it beside the phone. "And tell Bishop that Rose is coming over tomorrow." She picked up the phone, and called Bishop, and told him to expect Rose in the morning.

That was too easy! Joel smiled in the back seat of the Uber to the airport. He patted his hand on the Shopping Mall Channel print-out on the seat beside him, knowing there were 1,500 more customers out there just like Agatha. From the Atlanta business class departure lounge, Joel phoned the Boston offices of McTavish, Taylor, and Strong, which his Saturday research had revealed was one of the best criminal law firms in Boston. Joel asked to set up a meeting for tomorrow, which was Thursday. He explained he was a new client, and needed the best defense attorneys in the city for a high profile case. He asked to meet with a named partner, and said money was no object. The receptionist took his number, and said she would call back. Fifteen minutes later, as Joel was walking to the departure gate, she called back and said Terrance Strong would meet with him on Thursday morning at ten in the morning.

'This Robin Hood persona kind of suits me', Joel thought as he boarded the plane. Steal a lot from the rich, and give a little bit to the poor. The best part is it was all above board. There was no subterfuge – no attempt to hide the money. It was 100% legal. Only because it wasn't illegal.

As he boarded the plane, before he had to shut off his cell phone, Joel called Jenny from his seat, and asked if she wanted to have dinner with him on Saturday and watch the July Fourth fireworks. She agreed, and said she would take the subway downtown and meet him. He asked her to meet him at the Marriott at Long Wharf at 6:30. He had watched the fireworks from there before, and they had great restaurants nearby. He shut off his cell phone, and they took off out of Atlanta. This time there were no emergency landings.

On Thursday morning Joel met Terrance Strong, a named partner with the law firm McTavish, Taylor, and Strong. He looked to be in his mid-fifties with salt-and-pepper black hair with dark eyebrows. His practiced smile and penetrating hazel eyes exuded confidence, one might even say hubris. He was 5'11" with broad shoulders. He was fit and trim. Terrance looked like he excelled at varsity sports in his earlier years. He wore a hand tailored suit that looked like it cost more than most cars.

Terrance was flanked by four associates. He started extolling the virtues of his firm when Joel stopped them. "I'm not shopping around," he said. "You guys are the best, so let's just cut to the chase?" Terrance's expression remained neutral and unfazed, as if this happens all the time.

Joel explained the circumstances – the three women who stripped naked in the restaurant. Terrance immediately knew the case. Joel said he wanted the prostitution and any other sexually related charges quashed, expunged, completely eliminated. Anything short of that would require the most rigorous defense the law firm was capable of mounting.

Joel also explained he wanted the law firm to take every measure to guard the safety of the three girls. Terrance asked one of the associates to ask David Tang to join the meeting. The associate left the room, and Terrance explained David was head of client security. They deal with circumstances like this all the time, Terrance said without boasting.

Joel explained he would write a check for fifty thousand dollars as a retainer on Monday morning, assuming the girls agreed to being represented by McTavish, Taylor, and Strong. As if on cue, Joel's prepaid cell phone from Atlanta rang. Agatha was confirming the five million dollars had just been transferred into her checking account. "That," Joel told Terrance, pointing to the cell phone as he put it back in his pocket, "is the girls' benefactor. There is more than enough money to handle the case."

"Instead of the fifty thousand retainer," Terrance countered, "can you put a quarter million in to an escrow account?" Terrance asked. "We probably won't use it, and what we don't use, you get back. But if we know the money is there, it keeps all our options open, especially in the early days. Most importantly," Terrance said, "if we fire a hundred smoking hardballs at the DA early, he will understand very quickly we are not going anywhere. He will want to check his appetite for another ulcer by going toe-to-toe against the best law firm in the city with enough funding to drown him in legal filings for the next five years."

"I'll set up the escrow account on Monday," Joel nodded. "A quarter million is no problem."

Terrance leaned forward in his chair. "I want to assure you we are deeply committed to your friends' cause. I won't bullshit you, Joel. It's all about the money. With that kind of incentive, I will personally oversee the best defense possible for these three women."

David Tang joined the meeting. He didn't look like anything Joel imagined. With a name like Tang, Joel was expecting possible an Asian or European white. David was black, bald, with a close cropped beard. He wore a jacket with no tie, and Joel could easily see the bulk of his muscles through the coat. He didn't look like he had an ounce of fat on him, yet Joel guessed at six two, David probably weighed two fifty. He had soft but tired eyes.

Joel, David, and Terrance spent the next hour going over hypothetical legal strategies, security provisions for the girls, and public relations. Joel was especially concerned about the negative image the girls were receiving. "We have a PR firm we work with," Terrance explained. "But engaging them is going to cost more, Joel. These guys are amazing, but they don't come cheap. Count on another hundred grand, maybe more. I also need to tell you they're not miracle workers. There is some damage out there that simply cannot be undone."

"Okay", Joel nodded. "I'll put three fifty into the escrow account on Monday." Terrance nodded and jotted something down, not the least bit surprised or impressed.

They returned to legal strategies, logistics, and details. Terrance laid out several possible strategies and options without committing to any specific action. At the end of their discussion, Terrance warned Joel that, however noble Joel's intentions were, and regardless of who was paying for the legal services, the three young women were themselves the firm's clients, and the firm would ultimately respect the clients' wishes. He welcomed Joel's input, but the girls would be in charge of their own legal defense.

Joel thanked Terrance and David. He left the law firm around noon, and he phoned Christina. He explained he had news of a development, and asked her to convene a meeting with her and the two other defendants within the next day or two. Their parents could join too if they want. Christina said she would get back to him, and she sent a text message an hour later asking Joel to meet at Kelsey's house at three o'clock on Saturday afternoon. She included Kelsey's address, who lived with her parents.

Joel went to his bank on Thursday afternoon, and deposited Agatha's check for five million dollars. "That's some gift!" the teller exclaimed, reading the details of the check. Joel just nodded. He asked them to call the issuing bank, and certify the check, so the funds were immediately deposited into his account. That took half an hour, but when Joel walked out of the bank, he was half a million dollars richer. Before he left the bank, Joel withdrew five thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills. He had a feeling he would need the cash.

Friday was a holiday for most people, as July Fourth fell on Saturday. On Saturday, Joel went to Kelsey's parents' house. Present at the meeting were Christina and her two parents, Gail and Len Carroll, Kelsey and her two parents, Cheryl and Bob Danton, Mary, and Joel. Mary Wilson moved from Wyoming, where her parents still live. Mary lived in a small two bedroom apartment with a roommate, and her shared accommodations were growing strained with the publicity of her prostitution charges.

After introductions, Joel got right to the point. Much of what he said was paraphrased from his long meeting with the law firm. "This case has received a lot of publicity," Joel explained. "Often, prosecutors like to use high profile cases to make an example of the accused, to dissuade others from following in their footsteps. We don't know if that is the situation in your case, but it is a risk, even when the charges are relatively minor, as these ones are. And if it happens, the DA will come at you hard and strong. There will be no leniency and little room for plea bargaining."

"I met with Christina last week," Joel explained to the larger group, "and I promised her then I would do what I could to help her. That is why I asked to meet with you today. I have a proposition for you."

No one interrupted, so Joel continued. He looked at the three girls. "Subject to your agreement, I have secured the services of McTavish, Taylor, and Strong to defend you. All their fees and all their expenses will be paid for."

"Wait!" Kelsey's father, Bob Danton jumped in. "You mean the law firm that defended Charles Brookley last year." Joel nodded. "Those guys defend serial killers and million dollar embezzlers," he protested.

"Actually," Joel corrected, "they'll defend whoever hires them. Now there is a catch."

"No, wait!" Bob interrupted again. "These are apex lawyers. They charge thousands an hour. How much is this costing?"

"Nothing to you," Joel repeated.

"No, you said that, but someone is paying the bill. Who is that?"

"I can't say," Joel explained. "That is one of the conditions of this deal. There is a benefactor who is deeply committed to helping your daughter and her friends, but because of the sexual overtones of the charges, the benefactor refuses to be named."

"So how much is the benefactor willing to pay?" Gail Carroll, Christina's mother, asked.

"The benefactor has not capped the payment in any way, but there will be a deposit of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars into an escrow account for your daughters' defense on Monday, if Christina, Kelsey, and Mary agree to this deal. The benefactor has assured me that if the costs go higher, more funds are available. That's a guarantee."

"You said there's a catch," Kelsey's mother, Cheryl Danton, asked.

"Yes," Joel nodded. "McTavish, Taylor, and Strong will defend all three girls or none. There is no partial solution possible. So it's all or nothing. They won't budge from that."

"When are they prepared to start?" Cheryl asked.

"Monday. If the girls say the word, the firm is on the case. Now there's another thing," Joel added. "Not so much a catch, as a legal requirement. Because all three defendants are over eighteen, it is their decision, not the parents'. McTavish, Taylor, and Strong will meet with them alone for the first meeting. Parents will not be invited. On that they are inflexible."

"I want to make sure I'm hearing this right," Kelsey's father, Bob, said. "Someone, who refuses to be named, is willing to pay three fifty grand to defend my daughter and the other two by the best criminal law firm in the city, and we don't pay a cent."

"Yes," Joel hesitated, "but it's a bit more complicated than that. Two hundred and fifty thousand is for the defense fees, and the other hundred thousand is for a public relations firm to start fighting back against the horrible things that have been circulating about your girls."

"What kind of public relations?" Christina's mother, Gail, asked.

"I don't know," Joel admitted. "I am not familiar with that business. All I can tell you is, the law firm assures me it is the top PR firm in the city."

"So the best law firm in the city has told you this is the best PR firm in the city?" Bob asked.

"Yes," Joel nodded.

"And the only catch," Bob continued, "the only string attached is the all or nothing deal, and it's the girls' decision, not ours." Joel nodded.

The parents shared a collective sigh. They just saw their retirement age drop back down below the hundred year mark.

"How did this happen?" Gail Carroll demanded in a cold, edgy voice. She had a formal way of speaking, of filling the room, of making other people feel small. It probably intimidated most people, but Joel had grown a thick skin working for Quinton, and he let her tone wash off his back.