The Currency of Time Ch. 02

"No, this has all been a ploy to somehow get around giving me the $10 million that Lancaster wanted me to have. Deirdre had to break her father's will to keep her asshole lover happy. And the thought of whatever else she has done to keep him happy turns my stomach."

I bent my head so my lips almost touched her ear.

"That you did all this for him, that's what hurts the most."

Without turning her head or moving an inch she whispered back, "let go of me, Michael. Just let go."

I managed to unclench my hands and backed away. I had to, and I had been in enough bar room brawls to sense that Matt - whatever his name was - was tensing in his seat to rise up and do something foolish. I wondered if he'd also sampled Deirdre's pleasures. But Lancaster had told me that when she was with Gutman she had eyes for no one else.

More than likely, this was simple chivalry. She was the kind of woman you wanted to do things for. I had maybe an inch on Matt, and he was a lawyer for Christ's sake, but, like I said, you develop certain instincts and I had the feeling he might be tougher than he looked.

I backed away and held my hands up in a peace gesture.

"And in this fantasy of yours, how does Ms. Lancaster developing amnesia do anything to this end?" Bailey asked. He didn't look really unhappy. This had been a fishing expedition and now they knew what I knew.

Wilson leaned back in his very comfortable chair and said, "Hey, guys, I'm an outsider and even I can answer that. Lancaster was a devout Catholic, as are you, Mr. Bailey. The McCarthy's were married in a Catholic Church with the Monsignor Gerald Alcott presiding. And I know you don't have the presiding head of a Catholic diocese do many private weddings. So he's obviously close to the Lancaster family.

"I'm not Catholic, but I've worked on some divorce cases in Catholic marriages. The Catholic Church is not big on divorce, but there are a few exceptions. And annulments can be had for various reasons. They don't hand them out like Halloween candy, but the church does allow them.

"I would imagine that if Mrs. McCarthy were to visit the Bishop with her tale of woe - a very short marriage with no children ending in her forgetting everything from the past three years and making her a stranger to the man who wanted to spend the night in her bed - he would be at least inclined to listen to her plea."

"Maybe," Bailey said. He was smiling now and I didn't like it. "But, gentlemen, even if you think that my respectable firm would engage in such sculduggery, what about the civil courts? Mr. McCarthy could carry the fight there, and Catholic doctrine doesn't carry much weight there."

I took in that smile. I had a feeling Bailey wasn't used to losing and he wasn't going to tell me that his firm was going to do the right thing and give me what Lancaster had wanted me to have in the event that Gutman slithered back into his daughter's life.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're not really worried about whatever I'm planning to do all that much?"

"Perceptive," Wilkes said to his partner.

"Smart too. Orion told me that he was smarter than you'd expect from his appearance. Said he looked like a big roughneck, but he had the brains to build OIL Inc. even bigger someday. Turned out he was right. Did you know this was a production, Mr. McCarthy?"

"A production?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about. We wanted to find out what you knew, what you'd done, and what you were likely to do in the future. You were much more likely to be free with information in an informal setting. We've learned what we set out to discover. And since we don't need to continue the production, we start the real talking."

"So? Talk."

He pointed at Teller and then at Wilson, saying, "You gentlemen won't be needed any longer. McCarthy, why don't you let them leave."

"I don't think so."

He got up from his chair, the seat of power, and walked down the length of the table, finally resting his hip on the tabletop casually.

"Fine. Let's sum up. You believe your wife is faking amnesia from a very real and serious automobile accident. You have a psychiatrist who shares that opinion. We believe Ms. Lancaster suffered real and serious brain damage in a horrendous accident. Nobody, in our opinion, would put themselves through that kind of trauma to stage a fraud - one that she didn't need anyway."

He pointed to Wilson.

"You hired a private investigator who acquired information that casts doubt on Ms. Lancaster's account of the accident, but you can't prove anything regarding the details of the accident and the supposed malfeasance of the Jacksonville Sheriff's Office.. You can prove that she was seeing Mr. Gutman while she was still married to you. But, without making light of your feelings, from a legal sense - so what?

"Her relationship with Mr. Gutman was and is perfectly legal. It happens. People fall in and out of love all the time. She is obviously not going to seek to reconcile. And she will do everything within her power, and ours, to see that you do not receive the $10 million provided for in the marriage documents."

He ran a hand over his bald and shiny head.

"Does that pretty much sum up the situation?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Except you glossed over the most important point, which is I am going to be awarded that $10 million no matter what kind of legal smoke and mirrors you're going to use to break the pre-nuptial agreement.. You're going to lose."

Bailey got up and walked toward me until he was close enough to touch. For a man in his 60s, he was in pretty good shape. He looked back at his army of staff and motioned and an older woman, dark haired and still attractive, stood and brought him a document.

"Thank you Marge."

She showed a little wiggle as she walked away and the look in Bailey's eyes showed me that there was more than legal business going on in this office when the two of them were alone. It was encouraging to know that there was still life south of the border into the later years.

He handed me the document.

"As you'll see, this is an agreement to give up any claim to the $10 million in return for an immediate $250,000 payment. You can sign that right now Mr. McCarthy and receive the $250,000 today. Ms. Lancaster can receive her uncontested divorce within the month and you two can resume your separate lives."

I couldn't help smiling.

"You obviously think I'm an idiot. Why would I do that?"

"Because you won't have any choice."

He moved to the center of the room and made a sweeping gesture to cover the whole room.

"You made a joke at the beginning of this meeting about the disparity between our firm and yourself. Remember. You compared yourself to General George Custer at the Battle of the Little Big Horn. Again, you were perceptive. It wasn't a joke. That is your situation. You are outmanned, outgunned, completely unprepared for the legal battle that is preparing to envelope you.

"I know you think you occupy the moral high ground and that will enable you to prevail, but that merely illustrates your naivete. Courtroom battles are won by the stronger force. And compared to Ms. Lancaster, you aren't even an ant going up against an army."

"You're going to hurt my feelings if you keep that up."

"This isn't a joke. Think about it. As best we can determine by checking completely legal sources, you have a bank account and assets amounting to about $35,000. You had nearly $75,000 but paying for Dr. Teller's services is not cheap and Mr. Wilson took another large chunk of your cash for his fee and spreading cash around for his information.

"Ms. Lancaster , through her personal fortune and 100 percent ownership of OIL Inc., is worth approximately $150 million. You don't even have an attorney representing you. There are at least 50 working on Ms. Lancaster's case. You have one investigator, good as he is. We have 10 investigators looking into every aspect of your life and marriage.

"You might think as the current husband of Ms. Lancaster you would have access to some of her funds, but that is not the case. We have managed to block access to the estate's funds and any alimony a foolish judge might award you is frozen until the case is resolved.

'Which will take years and years and years. WE will fight to keep this case alive as long as humanly possible. We will fight for an annulment and dissolution based on cruelty and domestic abuse. The divorce is going to be so entangled in various criminal cases that it will take a long time to untangle all the snarls.

"In a short while you're going to run out of funds for investigators and experts and any decent kind of legal aid. You're going to lose. Lose the $10 million. Lose your marriage. Lose your representation and maybe lose your freedom."

"I can't wait to find out what kind of terrible things I've done to my innocent wife."

I couldn't stay in my seat. I made my way around Bailey and as Matt started rising to intercept me I pushed him down a lot harder than I needed to. I took the back of Deirdre's chair and spun her around where she couldn't hide from me.

"I guess I never knew you, Deirdre. I expected you'd fight like hell for Gutman, but you would destroy me to give him that $10 million wedding present? You'd sink that far for a fucking lowlife, a piece of shit who forced you to kill your baby and then let himself be paid off to abandon you. It's a good thing your father is dead, because it would break his heart to see how low you've sunk"

"Just sign the papers, Michael. We're through. Take the $250,000 and get out of my life."

"The problem, Michael is that you're been brainwashed by all the movie and television courtroom shows," Wilkes said approaching me from behind. "The courtroom isn't some bloodless arena where legal arguments are tested and weighed to determine Truth. It's a battlefield. Once men fought and died on fields to determine which side God would favor. Today we use words and books and evidence."

"But it's still a battle," Bailey said. "It doesn't matter whether you're in the right or not. We will swarm you, we will bury you in motions and a forest of legal papers. We will beat you down. We'll send in lawyer after lawyer that you - a layman who doesn't know the law - won't be able to even answer adequately. We will overwhelm you, we will break you."

Bailey stood behind Deirdre, his hands placed on her shoulders where mine had been moments before.

"And that's not the worst of it, Michael. We won't play by Marquis of Queensbury rules. This is a bareknuckle fight. Deirdre has told us how you assaulted her on that very first night that her father entrusted her safety to you. You drugged her and when she resisted, you smashed her lip with your fist.

"We have testimony from several of her friends that when they tried to intervene to protect her because they could see you'd drugged her, that you sent them to the hospital with some serious injuries. Four men tried to stop you, and you beat them senseless. What chance did a 110 pound girl have to protect herself from you?

"And after you'd raped her that first time, you continued to dominate her by threating to use your friends to convince her father that she'd been a slut having sex with any number of men. While she admits to being - wild - she did not want to hurt her father by hearing your lies about her behavior."

He glanced down at Deirdre and then around the assembled men and women of his staff.

"I'm sorry Deirdre. I know you didn't want anyone to learn these embarrassing details, but it's necessary that Michael know how far you're willing to go to end your marriage."

"And why would you marry such a monster, Deirdre? Why would you marry me and stay with me for two years if I were such a terrible person?"

She stood up looking like a flame haired queen and for a moment I could believe her claims to have the blood of the Fey running in her veins.

"Because you are a violent and dangerous man, Michael McCarthy, and you knew how I felt about Julian even after my father drove him away. And you swore to me that if I did not marry you and allow you to seize my father's company, you would find Julian and beat him to death with your bare hands. And I believed you."

I knew what she was doing, and it still hit me like a hard fist to the center of my chest.

"Sign the paper and end this," Wilkes said from behind me. "You're not just facing financial ruin. The statute of limitations hasn't run on the rape, assault, drugging or other criminal charges. This could get very ugly."

"It hasn't gotten ugly already?"

"It could get much uglier. Michael. Don't force it to go that way."

Wilkes placed the paper on the desk and laid a gold and silver enameled pen that looked like the real thing on it.

"Sign it Mr. McCarthy. You're not a stupid man. You're good at what you do. You've already lost your wife. You can walk away with a quarter million dollars and make a new life, or you can fight and waste years of your life and maybe ruin your life. It's not a tough decision."

Teller had been taking it all in. He reached into a pocket and pulled out what looked like a mint and popped it into his mouth. The way he did it made me think he'd been a smoker for a long time. It was typical smoker behavior after they'd gone smokeless.

"Mr. McCarthy, I wouldn't presume to tell you what you should do. It's your life. But I will say it doesn't take a trained psychiatrist to see that this meeting has been orchestrated for one purpose - to shake you up and make it difficult for you to think clearly. It's the civilian version of the famous "shock and awe" doctrine performed so perfectly by the U.S. military in Iraq last year. The idea is to overwhelm you."

Beside him Wilson raised one finger as if calling for my attention.

"I'm not a lawyer, McCarthy, but I know that wills and pre-nups are hard to break, especially when they're drawn up for a man with Lancaster's money. Of course, these were drawn up by the man who is going to try to break them, so they might have more luck. But, Mr. Bailey and Wilkes will have to be careful because lawyers are sitting in prison cells for that kind of crap."

Bailey smiled as if the thought of going to prison was amusing.

"Your friends are not lawyers, Michael. Listen to someone who is a lawyer with decades of experience. Not signing will be the worst mistake of your life."

I stood there looking at the legal army he'd gathered to oppose me, the tip of the spear of the unstoppable legal juggernaut he said would destroy me. It was a sobering sight.

Which is why the smile that lit my face puzzled everybody. Wilkes and Bailey exchanged glances as if wondering whether I'd cracked and gone round the bend. Deirdre studied me and I could see the realization growing. She didn't know what was coming, but in two years and a lot of energetic nights in bed, she knew me well enough to know that bad stuff was galloping over the horizon and the shit storm was approaching. She tensed in her chair, but there was nowhere to run.

"Mr. Bailey, Mr. Wilkes, you are correct that my two friends are not lawyers. I'm not a lawyer. I don't have an attorney representing me. But...

"I do have any attorney...sort of. He's working pro bono. Not costing me a penny. But he's a pretty good lawyer. He knows you. Let me give him a call."

I grabbed my cell and punched in #9. There was no need to say anything.

Thirty seconds later the phones in front of a half dozen chairs started ringing. Bailey and Wilkes were away from their chairs so there was a chorus of "Mr. Bailey, Mr. Wilkes, police are downstairs. They're ordering everyone to stay in their offices. They've arrested Mr. Stevens. They're coming up the elevator."

Bailey and Wilkes motioned for their staff to calm down and get off the phones. Bailey shook his head

"I don't know what kind of sleazy trick you're playing. McCarthy, but you're playing with fire. I am going to chew up whatever cheap ambulance chaser you've got coming up here and spit him out. I've been a long-time supporter of Sheriff Knight. I've contributed to all his campaigns. And when I tell him about his officers being involved, officers will be disciplined, if they keep their jobs."

I heard steps coming down the hallway. The door opened and first one, then another and a third uniformed Jacksonville Sheriff's Office deputy walked in the door. Followed by Mr. Harper-Stevens, with his hands cuffed behind him, followed by another behemoth in the blue sheriff's office uniform.

Last to come through the door was an unremarkable short man in civilian dress who slipped in almost unnoticed at the rear while everyone was watching the uniformed cops and the matching bookend behemoths. While most of the staff was focused on the cops, Bailey, Wilkes, the silver haired Matt and every other actual lawyer kept their eyes on the short civilian.

He wasn't the kind of figure who would have evildoers trembling at his approach. His clothes were good quality, but the white dress shirt swelled against his gut and there were gaps between the upper buttons. His thinning hair was a shade of what could only be called mousy brown, but the heavy afternoon stubble was jet black, making him look like a drunk stumbling in from a 48-hour binge. He was what any Irishman would recognize as a child of the Black Irish. Nothing else fit, but that heavy black stubble marked him indelibly.

His name was William Maitland, he was the number two prosecutor in the State Attorney's Office for the Third Judicial Circuit. And he was my Ace in the Hole.

"Maitland!" Bailey said in evident disbelief. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Hello Mort, Wilkes. I could ask you the same thing."

"What?"

"I've never seen so many legal types gathered in one room anywhere except a Bar meeting when they're passing out free booze. You almost didn't have enough staff downstairs for us to go to the trouble of arresting. I had to leave a few officers downstairs just to keep them from heading out for Mexico or Canada."

"Maitland, this is no joke-"

"You're right, Mort. This is a raid."

"A raid," Wilkes said.

"Come on, Wilkes. You have to talk to make this interesting. Repeating what I say won't make any kind of headlines on tonight's newscasts."

"You've always been a headline grabbing, cold blooded son of a bitch, but you've gone too far this time. You've bitten off way, way too much for you to chew."

Maitland grinned as if he knew a joke that no one else had a clue about.

"Awe, Mort, I always thought you liked me."

Bailey grabbed a telephone off the table.

"Give me your boss' number, Maitland. If you're still working at the State Attorney's Office tomorrow, I'd be very surprised.

"Mr. Edwards is in Tallahassee today and busy. But I have his number and you should probably touch base with him."

Bailey dialed the number and after a moment he punched a button and a voice could be heard on the other end.

"I want this on speaker, you son of a bitch, so everyone can hear your head being handed to you."

"Hello. Got just a minute. I'm ready to go into a meeting."

"Dallas, this is Mort. Mort Bailey."

"Oh, hi, Mort. I hope this is something we can talk about later."

"We need to talk about it right now. Do you know what Maitland is doing right now in my office?"

"No, but I know why he's there. He told me he'd received some very disquieting information about your firm. He was going to come to your office to clear up some things."

"He broke into my office with armed police, put my security guard in handcuffs, and said this is a raid. Since when do your underlings go around raiding law offices?"

"Maitland is a very responsible, level headed guy. He wouldn't be there if he didn't think there was a reason to be there."