The Currency of Time Ch. 02

"He came into my office with armed police in the middle of an important meeting. I didn't expect that from your people. I have been a supporter of your office since you first ran. I champion YOUR work among the Bar. And I have given you a LOT of money over the years for your campaigns and never asked anything in return. I deserve better than this."

"You've been a friend and supporter for years, and I value your friendship, but I couldn't overlook the information Maitland brought to me. I am sure you'll be able to straighten things out. Give Maitland your cooperation. He'll work with you. Now, they're calling me back in. I trust everything will work out and we can get together for lunch one day next week when I'm back in town."

There was a loud click that rang like thunder in the quiet room.

"Mort, I think your good friend just threw you to the wolves. And I'm the Wolf."

Bailey and Wilkes slowly and carefully returned to their seats, like old men who weren't sure of their footing. Bailey looked around at the officers.

"You've got the power right now, Maitland, but there will come a time when you won't. Dallas Edwards is going to regret what he just did and you're going to regret it sooner. I have friends on the Bar and the Association in Tallahassee will never condone what you've just done. And having Edwards to run interference for you won't work this time. I'm going to bring you up on charges of misconduct and you'll be lucky if they only censure you."

"Maybe. But for right now, let's concentrate on more immediate matters."

He pulled a chair out next to Teller and sat. He pointed to me.

"A few days ago Mr. McCarthy came to my office with some very serious charges. Felony fraud with the intent to steal $10 million, suborning perjury, filing false and fraudulent legal documents. Misfeasance, malfeasance and any other kind of feasance you could think of. Among other things. Mr. McCarthy, play your recording."

It was cheap and petty of me, but as I pushed the play button I couldn't help smiling at the other end of the table. I think it's what used to be called a shit-eating grin. And it felt good. I couldn't help glancing for just a second at Wilson, but his face was expressionless. It always helps in a divorce case to have a guy who had to have been military intelligence on your side. "...Deirdre, there's nothing to worry about. I know this is hard on you. You were married to the man for two years. It's inevitable there'd be some guilt about what you're doing. But...you're doing a great acting job. You don't have to win an Academy award. Just stick to your story that you don't have any memory of those three years. Dr. Fairfax has written a report backing up your story. He won't waiver. We paid him too much money. We made the accident report on Gutman go away and there's nothing officially to tie him to the accident.

"I can't help it, Uncle Mort. I feel like shit. It's bad enough doing what I'm doing just to keep Michael from getting his $10 million. I've begged Julian to let it go. We don't need it. But he won't. Between you and me, I think it's more that he hates Michael because I married him, than that he actually wants the $10 million. I think he just wants to punish Michael.

"And worse, I don't want to do all the things you're planning. Accusing Michael of raping me, beating up the guys I was partying with, threatening me. None of that is true and you know it. It's bad enough what we're doing, but I'm not going to send him to prison."

"We won't need to. And I don't plan on it. But we had to prepare the charges and we bought witnesses who'll bear out the story and even testify in court if it comes to that. But it won't. The reason we're doing this is so we don't have to go to court. Michael isn't stupid. When he sees the hellfire we're prepared to rain down upon his head, he'll take the $250,000 and run. I promise you, he'll give up and go away."

I punched the off button.

"A good plan, Mort, and it could have worked," Maitland said. "But he's stubborn and he didn't give up and go away."

Bailey stared at the recorder on the table as if it were a large cockroach that had crawled up there.

"Are you crazy, Maitland. I might not like some of your tactics, but I never thought you were stupid. An illegal wiretap recording of a personal conversation? You're basing all of this on an illegal wiretap? That's a crime in and of itself, and it could never be used in court."

"I bow to your superior knowledge of the law, Mort. You're right. Maybe. Technically, I can't use that wiretap in court. But, if you remember 'Inciarrano' from 1985, someone who is breaking the law has no right to privacy. And you were definitely in the process of breaking all kind of laws when that conversation was conducted. We might not be able to get it into evidence, but we might.

"The other good thing about illegal wire taps - as long as we're not the ones doing the tapping - is that you can use them to acquire evidence that will be admitted into court."

Maitland pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and punched a key.

"Bring in The Good Doctor and the Bad Boyfriend."

Both Bailey and Wilkes' eyes widened as Maitland's words sank in. Deirdre's eyes glistened under the lights. I knew she'd never expected it to go this far. I wondered how hard Bailey had to push to get her to be here today. She had done her best to avoid me since she'd started faking amnesia.

A few moments later the door opened and a tall, distinguished looking gentleman who looked like he'd slept in his rumpled, elegant suit, Dr. Mayfair, walked in, followed by a taller, younger man dressed in board shorts and a t-shirt reading, "Teachers Can Conjugate All Night." A uniformed officer peeked inside but Maitland waived him away.

Maitland gestured for Dr. Mayfair to sit in the middle of the table, which was getting crowded. Before he could direct Gutman, my wife's lover had almost picked up one of the secretaries and sent her scurrying to another chair while he sat down beside Deirdre. They exchanged glances and then he leaned over. I expected a supportive kiss on the cheek but he planted one on her lips and I could tell he was giving her tongue as well. There were some stares but most people looked away.

Finally he broke the kiss, leaving my wife panting for more than air. He looked in my eyes and smiled and I didn't need to read between the lines to get his message. My wife was his woman now and he had just proved the point.

Alright, he was handsome. Almost girlishly pretty. He wore his hair long and had a brilliant diamond stud in his left ear. A couple of the female attorneys and secretaries couldn't keep their eyes off him. If I was very lucky, before this was all over, I might have the chance to permanently re-arrange those perfect features.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Mayfair," Maitland said. "Have a little trouble dressing today?"

Mayfair had his hair stylishly long, wore dark glasses, was so clean shaven he looked like he'd had his face plucked, had his hair frosted although I think it was supposed to be gray - and all in all looked like an older version of every handsome television doctor. He looked like the kindly uncle that everyone felt could be entrusted with your deepest, darkest secrets.

Today he looked like the junkie drunk uncle, the one who would always show up at family gatherings out of his mind, the one who borrowed money and never returned it, always had to be bailed out at inconvenient times. Your least favorite uncle.

And yet, on the outside he was unchanged from his professional guise. But the inside, the inside had rotted away.

He didn't even look in Maitland's direction. Instead his gaze fluttered like a wounded butterfly from Wilkes to Bailey and back.

"Mr. ... Bailey. Mr. ...Wilkes...I...I...I'm sorry. I...didn't have...any choice. They told me I was going to prison. I had to talk. I had to tell them..."

"I don't care what crazy fantasies you spun for them, Mayfair," Bailey said. "We both know you wrote an honest report without any interference - or any payment from us. I know that Maitland has a way of bullying witnesses and he still has this manufactured reputation of being a nice guy. I don't know how he threatened you, but if he convinced you to sign fake documents, you are in serious trouble."

"The first rule of any crooked lawyer is when you're in trouble, lie," Maitland said. "You do it so well. I'd almost think you were crooked. And a 'manufactured reputation for being a nice guy'? I always thought I was a nice guy."

"Play your games, Maitland. You have one illegal tape recording and one coerced fake confession. You have nothing."

"I beg to differ, but then I'm prejudiced toward truth. But part of your problem in understanding how deeply you're mired in quicksand is that you're a civil attorney. You've never worked the criminal side of the law. From where I sit, nailing you isn't going to be a challenge. We can use the tape to convince reluctant witnesses where their self interest lies. And the documents signed by Dr. Mayfair were enough to give us warrants to tear this office apart, look at all your paperwork, examine your phone records, go after the police officers and medical staff you used in your scheme."

Bailey stood up. A few minutes recovery time had allowed him to regain his bluster.

"You're too used to dealing with criminal scum, Maitland. If you don't have anything better than this, grab your cops and get out of here. And uncuff Mr. Harper-Stevens."

Maitland turned to a Hispanic-looking cop standing near Bailey.

"Stu, if Mr. Bailey doesn't shut up and sit down, cuff him and sit him down."

After Bailey sat, Maitland walked to where the silver haired attorney Matt was sitting.

"Mr. Henry, why don't you take a little walk with me to the other side of the room?"

Henry and Bailey exchanged looks, then Henry stood up and followed to the far right side of the room, as far as you could get away from the table, but not far enough. Because you could hear every word.

"Matt, I make it my business to be aware of the attorneys working in my Circuit, even the civil guys. I have heard good things about you. You're smart, you work hard, and you're a good lawyer. I'm sure that's why Mort and Wilkes hired you. They don't take losers."

Henry gave him a half smile and it was difficult for a moment to realize Maitland was the shorter man.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're getting ready to tell me to turn around and bend over?"

"I'm not getting ready to fuck you, Matt. In fact, I'm going to try to save you from a royal butt-fucking."

"Why are you being so good to me, Mr. Maitland? As if I don't know."

'I don't know how much you know about what went on here with this scheme to defraud Mr. McCarthy of $10 million he was entitled to. But I know you're too smart and too involved in this firm not to have at least been aware of part of it. I know you're the linchpin. I don't think any of the other lawyers are willing to step forward. They're either rising in middle management and they've got homes and mortgages or alimony payments or kids in college - or they're green. And the secretaries and assistants are small fish and they're afraid they'll be gobbled up by the system.

"But, if you come to us, the whole thing falls apart. You're the heir apparent, and everyone including you knows it. If you turn state's evidence, there'll be no charges, no stains to your reputation. You're an ethical whistleblower who helped turn in a corrupt firm. Of course, no one local may be willing to hire you, but my boss knows EVERYBODY in the legal field here and a lot of other places. You'll come with his VERY HIGH recommendation as an honest lawyer, and there are some firms that actually respect that."

Henry didn't look back at his bosses for support.

"I appreciate your offer, but I think the case against Mr. Bailey and Wilkes is just bullshit. I don't know anything about unethical or illegal action by this firm and so I can't help you."

Maitland ran a hand through his thinning hair and looked at the floor for a while. Without looking up, he started speaking so softly you had to strain to hear him. And 25 sets of ears strained to hear him.

"I respect loyalty. I value honesty. And I think highly of any man or woman who will do the right thing when the right thing needs to be done. But of all those qualities, and this is probably a failing on my part, it's loyalty that I prize the most. Even misguided loyalty, even loyalty to bad causes and bad people who don't deserve that loyalty."

He bit his lip and then rubbed his lower lip with his thumb. I had the feeling these were nervous tics that were natural to him, but he used them to make it seem like he was being forced to deliver bad news that he hated to deliver.

"And so I respect you, Matt. But, before you make a final decision, just think for a minute. That's all I ask, listen to me for a moment. You know in your heart that Bailey and Wilkes and maybe the other partners are going down. They'll bluster, but once you get evidence in writing and changes pending, people are going to turn. They always do.

"Bailey and Wilkes are in their 60s. Most of Wilkes' children are grown. For white collar crime, even the theft of $10 million, they won't get more than five years. And they've got enough money socked away they'll be able to live even if they never practice again.

"Deirdre Lancaster and her boyfriend may not go to jail although I'll do my best to put them there, because this is all on them. But even if they spend a few years in a comfortable cell, she'll still have $150 million when they get out and this will just be a bump in the road.

"But you - Matt - this is the end of the road for you. You're 32, unmarried, worth maybe a half million. Legal fees are going to eat a lot of that up. You'll be convicted because I am as sure that they will pull you in to share the blame as I am the sun will rise tomorrow. You will be disbarred. No serious firm, probably not even fly by night shysters, will want a man working for them convicted of fraud and stealing $10 million."

He stepped back away from Henry. I looked around the room. Nobody was talking and every eye was on the pair. Maitland looked up and down Henry with an appraising eye.

"You're a good looking young man, Matt."

Maitland laughed at the expression on Henry's face.

"Relax, Matt. I'm not offering you another way of getting out from under, so to speak. I'm just saying you're a good looking young man. I have no information that you're gay, so I assume you like the ladies and you date. The odds are that someday some sweet thing will trap you in marriage and after a while there will be babies.

"If you're like most men, you're going to want the best for your wife and children. That's what usually happens. As a lawyer, a rising and talented lawyer, you will be able to offer your family the good life, opportunity, travel, college. As a disbarred ex-con, you'll still want the best for them. But you won't be able to offer them what you could now.

"If you remain loyal to your bosses, you're not only throwing your life away, but you're throwing away your family's future. You're sacrificing your entire life, your future, for men who will walk away from this without any real scars."

Maitland stepped closer and placed one hand Henry's shoulder. For the first time you could see how short Maitland was.

"Just think about this. It's the most important decision you'll ever make in your life, and it will determine the rest of your life, Matt. Think long and hard."

The two men stay in position for a moment, then Henry stepped back. He shook his head as if clearing away a dream - or a nightmare.

"I've heard a few stories about you Maitland. I've always heard you were good. Damn, you're good. But I'm afraid you've wasted your talents on me. I still don't know anything about fraud or stealing $10 million."

He turned his back on Maitland and walked back to his seat at the table.

Maitland just shook his head for a moment and then walked back to where Bailey was sitting.

"I don't know how much you're paying him, Mort, but you're not paying him enough."

He glanced up and down the table.

"I know everyone hear heard that conversation. The same deal applies. Come forward, and you walk away with no charges, no trial, no stain from all of this. But the deal can only go so far. Wait too long, and the deal or deals will be taken off the table. Henry, that applies to you too. It won't take long and this deal will go away. Other witnesses may not be as valuable, but a few of them will probably be enough. Don't wait too long."

I looked up and down the table. I wasn't a lawyer, not a trained interrogator, but I had sat in on enough high dollar negotiations around the world to know a little bit about reading people. People were nervous, calculating what their best moves would be. I didn't think anyone would come forward in this room, but I doubted it would be too long before the first contacts were made with Maitland's office.

Gutman held Deirdre's hand tightly and he wasn't smiling smugly at me now. He was also thinking about prison and how, even with Deirdre's $150 million protecting him, he would be a very tempting target for guys who liked men who looked like really good looking women.

We must have been on the same wavelength. He looked up at me as I stared at him and I blew him a kiss.

Only Deirdre's grip kept him seated. He wanted a piece of me, and Oh God, I wanted a piece of him. If only he'd been man enough to come over the table at me. But that would have been hoping for too much.

Tearing my gaze from him, I studied Bailey and Wilkes. Neither one of them was crumbling. Today hadn't turned out the way they'd anticipated, and it wasn't working out the way I'd hoped.

Maitland seemed to make a decision.

Motioning to the cop named Stu, he said, "Alright, Mort, if you're not willing to even consider some type of plea agreement, let's move on. Turn around and put your hands behind you. Stu, put the cuffs on him. Then cuff Wilkes."

"You're insane, Maitland. You're walking us out in cuffs when this is all you have? It's a shame to see a career end like this, and yours will end here today."

"I've notified the media. A good old fashioned Perp-Walk is just what the 6 o'clock local news loves."

Finally Bailey turned around and held his hands out behind him.

"You're an asshole, Maitland. You always were and you always will be."

Maitland looked down at the floor for a while, then glanced up at me and finally at Bailey.

"Shit."

Bailey was as obviously confused as everyone was. Except for myself and Maitland.

"You've disappointed me, Mort. I really hoped you'd wind up blubbering and begging for mercy on your knees. But you're a stubborn bastard. Which puts me in a bad situation."

Maitland sat down at the table on my side.

"Stu, the rest of you guys, you can wait downstairs. Grab some coffee or something. We still might have to arrest some people. Grove, you can take Mr. Reeves downstairs and if he calms down, take his cuffs off too."

"What in the world?"

Before Maitland could answer, Harper-Stevens pushed his hands further back behind him.

"Mr. Bailey, can I PLEASE PLEASE kick this bloody Yank's head up his ass? Bloody Special Forces fags think they're special. One SAS man could take five of them any day."

Grove turned to Maitland.

"Maitland, please let me have five minutes with him. The only thing SAS fuckers are great at is sucking dick. And they've got great PR. But none of them is worth a damn in the field."

"The only reason you're running your mouth now, fag, is that my hands are cuffed behind me. Try saying that when my hands are free."

"Do you have to get into that shit right now, Officer Grove? This is not a good time."