Bill Harvey Collection

by Peter O'Mahoney

  “Of course, in good faith, we’re willing to discuss, and perhaps even change, the settlement amount further than what has been proposed. We’re very reasonable people, and, of course, we would prefer to come to an outcome before this case reaches the court.”

  “No, you don’t. You want to test this case in court.”

  “On what condition would you consider negotiating the settlement amount?” Judge Dean ignored Harvey’s statement and held his pen at the ready, almost itching to take handwritten notes.

  “As part of any settlement, Mr. Harvey would be required to sign an affidavit stating that he has accepted full responsibility for all changes in Mr. Wu’s behavior.”

  “I see what you’re doing.” Harvey glared at Taylor. “And there’s not a chance that I will sign one.”

  “And what are we doing, Mr. Harvey?”

  “That affidavit will set me up for future responsibility for Kevin’s choice of actions, should this case be tested in the criminal court.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Taylor struggled hard to hide his grin.

  “Partial responsibility?” Judge Dean asked as he began his note-taking.

  Harvey’s reply was direct and firm, as was his grip on the edge of the table. “No.”

  “We came here in good faith to discuss a settlement, and you’re clearly not entering the discussion in good faith, Mr. Harvey.”

  “My faith is in sensible people. Not you.”

  “Look at the evidence.” Taylor opened his hands, gesturing to the files on the table. “Look at it! Due to a medical condition, and his family risk of tumors, Mr. Wu had a brain scan twelve months before he started the hypnotherapy sessions with you, and then another just after the sessions, and every year since. There are clear differences in his brain patterns. There’s no denying the scientific facts of this case. It’s cold, hard evidence that you can’t deny!”

  “And in the scans after the sessions, the brain pattern matches the exact brain patterns of someone who has taken barbiturates before the testing. Was he drug tested before the scans?”

  “That’s not a legal requirement, Mr. Harvey, and you know that to be the case.”

  “He has clearly influenced the scans by taking drugs before the subsequent rounds of testing. That’s clear to all involved.”

  Kevin scoffed at the accusation “I don’t take drugs. What an absolutely ridiculous claim.”

  “Mr. Wu, please refrain from butting in,” Judge Dean instructed.

  “You were trying to set me up from day one! It’s clear that you unduly influenced the scan with your behavior!”

  “Again, Mr. Harvey, I will ask you to settle down,” Judge Dean interrupted. “This discussion has to be in good faith. Now, if I’m not mistaken, you’re claiming that Mr. Wu deliberately changed his brain pattern before the second scan. Why would he need to do that?”

  “To set me up.”

  “That’s quite a long game plan, Mr. Harvey. This occurred five years ago.” Judge Dean winced. “That’s rather unbelievable.”

  “He knew this day was coming. He knew there would be a day when he was going to be charged with murder, and he planned this all those years ago. He just expected that day to be a lot sooner.”

  “My client has not been charged with any criminal behavior!” Taylor interjected.

  “He will be.”

  “If you know something, please elaborate, Mr. Harvey,” Judge Dean stated.

  Harvey didn’t answer the statement from the judge. Instead, he adjusted his tie and then stared at Kevin Wu, who squirmed uncomfortably under the gaze.

  “From what I can see…” Judge Dean opened a file in front of him. “… there’s a lot of evidence to state that Mr. Wu’s brain activity had changed during that period. And—”

  “And yet, there is no evidence to state that hypnotherapy was responsible.”

  “There’s plenty of evidence,” Taylor quipped.

  “Correlation is not causality!”

  “Very true.” Judge Dean lifted his head from the page he was staring at. “However, this case is sure to be heard unless there’s a settlement before the set date. And I, for one, would much prefer that this case didn’t make it to court.”

  “There will be no settlement. I will have evidence to state that this is an act of fraudulent behavior before that date.”

  Taylor leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. “Oh please, Harvey, enlighten us.”

  “Kevin is a very well-known note-taker. Every night, without fail, he records his thoughts in a small black book—he has written in several over the years. Finding those books will show that he used the hypnotherapy sessions as a setup for a future change in his behavior. Those books will show that he used drugs before the brain scan to unduly influence the outcome. This defense has been planned for a very long time, and I will have evidence to show that.”

  Judge Dean looked at Taylor. “Your reply, Mr. Reaper?”

  Taylor smiled, resting backward, swiveling slightly on his chair. “It’s very well-known that Mr. Wu is a nightly note-taker; however, it’s also very well-known that after the period of one year, he burns those books. Think of it as a clean-out on the first of January every year.”

  “So no such notes exist from five years ago?” Judge Dean looked over the top of his glasses.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Mr. Harvey?”

  “Monty Lee might have something to say about that.”

  Kevin’s mouth dropped open, and Taylor turned to watch his client’s shock.

  “He disappeared a long time ago. He’s untraceable.” Taylor shook his head. “And what could he possibly have to say?”

  “He won’t say much, but the notes that he’s kept might.”

  It was a bluff, but by the shock on Kevin’s face, he could tell it was a good one.

  Judge Dean flipped open a page of his notebook, scribbling illegible words on the paper. “Mr. Harvey, at this point, I will ask you directly: are you willing to consider a settlement?”

  “There is no evidence, none, that states the hypnotherapy changed his brain patterns. All they have is a coincidence, a setup, that the pattern of behavior changed during that time. There’s no causality between the change in his behavior and the sessions of hypnotherapy.”

  “So you’re saying that hypnotherapy doesn’t work at all?”

  “Hypnotherapy works by leveraging what is already in a person’s mind. It helps a person enter their own subconscious. I exercised no control over his behavior. None.”

  “What if we were to bring forward an expert witness that will verify the effect that hypnotherapy has on brain functioning?” Taylor questioned.

  The growl in Harvey’s voice was loud. “You couldn’t find a credible witness that will testify to that.”

  “The creditability of the testimony will be for the court to decide.”

  “Not likely. It’s not going to get that far.”

  “However, you’re not willing to settle.” Taylor smiled. “I don’t think I need to tell you what a case like this will do for your reputation. Even if the case isn’t won by us, your reputation will be mud after the public hears what you have done. There will be no more high-flying Bill Harvey; you’ll be back to defending scum, like you deserve.”

  “The only reputation that will be destroyed is yours.” It was a thinly veiled threat and one that didn’t hold much weight in the current context.

  If the media got hold of the story, on a slow news day, they would make it the lead story. It was sure to get people interested and sell advertising space online. The connotations of the outcome were massive—it would be suggested that Harvey unduly influenced his clients, the court, and the jurors. Fear sold media stories, and the audience would be fearful of what hypnotists had the power to do.

  Harvey was not looking forward to that.

  “So an Alternative Dispute Resolution is out of the question?” Judge Dean questioned.

&
nbsp; “There will be no ADR for this case.” Harvey placed his index finger firmly down on the table. “There will be no settlement. And there will be no court case.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re implying, Mr. Harvey.” Judge Dean flicked through the pages in front of him. “But I can ascertain that we’re not going to get anywhere today. I’m satisfied that an attempt at a settlement has occurred, and I’m also satisfied that no settlement will be reached here.”

  “Then let’s set a court date,” Taylor quipped.

  “Hold on.” Judge Dean put one hand up as a stop sign. “I, for one, do not want this case to go to court. I don’t want this theory tested in my courtroom, so I’m going to set a mediation attempt to see that this is resolved before we have to go to court.” Judge Dean was firm. “The next meeting is set for two Fridays time, and then we will have another CMC two Fridays after that. You both had better work on resolving this, and this had better be determined by then.”

  “It won’t be settled,” Harvey stated.

  “For now, the court date will be set twelve weeks from today’s date.”

  “I’ll look forward to this case coming to court.” Taylor grinned. “I’m sure it will be quite an adventure.”

  “It won’t be making it to court.” Harvey stood, tall, almost knocking his chair backward. “And I will guarantee that.”

  Chapter 21

  “Bill Harvey?”

  “Harry Leach. My favorite person.”

  “The name’s Harry Beach, and you know that.”

  Harvey drew a long breath as the day started to turn into night. Walking out of a Chinese takeaway on Maple Avenue—with a fried shrimp in his mouth—was the last place he expected to be hounded by the media.

  But this was L.A.; where reporters hunt twenty-four-seven for a break.

  “I hear that you might be in trouble with the law.” Harry began walking next to Harvey.

  “The law? No, Harry. I’ve done nothing wrong.” Harvey didn’t stop to chat, mostly because he didn’t want his wonton soup to go cold.

  “That’s what they all say. You sound like one of your clients.” Harry quickened his pace to keep up with Harvey’s long stride. “Word is that you might have influenced one of your clients unduly.”

  Harvey stopped, taking a step closer, looking down at the shorter man dressed in a casual shirt and shorts. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I’m just asking questions, man. No need to get nasty. All I’m trying to do is get the full story. I mean, it would be a lot more helpful if you just answered some questions, then I could write a more well-rounded view of the story.” Harry fixed his white bowler hat into position. He was never a fan of hats until he started to go bald prematurely at age twenty-eight, and then they became his number one fashion accessory.

  “I’m not helping you with any story because there’s no story here,” Harvey snarled, leaning into the reporter’s personal space.

  “I beg to differ.” The self-importance seeped off Harry. In his world, he had to push boundaries and make powerful people angry enough to snap and tell him the truth. He believed that he was doing better for the world, making a difference by keeping people updated with the news they needed to know. Harvey’s opinion of Harry’s work was very different. “Word is a former client is suing you for $100,000,000 in the civil court. That’s not going to look good for you, but it’s going to sell media space for me. This is going to be a massive story, and I’m running with it, man. It’s going to be huge. It’ll launch my career.”

  “There’s no story.”

  “Give me something, Harvey. Don’t just let me go on rumors. Give me something solid to work with. I would hate to write an article without your input. If I had to do that, it might even be unduly unfair to you. Of course, none of us would want that, so please, just give me something to go on.”

  “I’ll give you my fist if you don’t leave me alone.”

  Harry smiled; it was a threat he heard often. Sometimes, the people even followed through on the threat, but he had taken enough punches to know a good story was worth it. A front page on the paper, a leading story online, gave him all the satisfaction that he needed.

  “I don’t think I need to tell you how a negative article will affect your career.”

  Harvey drew a deep breath. Being threatened by reporters was not something he enjoyed. “How long do I have until you write the article?”

  “Two weeks, maximum. Maybe even before then.”

  Two weeks until Harvey’s career was stained forever.

  And that was the problem with ideas on the Internet—they were forever. One leaked photo, one slanderous article, and then suddenly your name was mud, no matter how many times they retracted the article.

  If this story reached the Internet, then the information was there to be found over and over and over again—whether it’s correct or not.

  “I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you something, if you give me something.” Harry adjusted his hat as his target began walking away.

  “What could you possibly give me?”

  “A name and a location.”

  “I don’t need either of those.”

  “You might if the name is Monty Lee.”

  Harvey stopped. He had spent the afternoon looking for Monty Lee, the former business partner, but gave up when all the leads dried out. Monty disappeared from the world five years ago after Tiffany Lee was kidnapped.

  “Ah, I see that’s caught your attention. You’re interested in what I’m selling.”

  “How could you possibly know where he is? He’s off the grid—been untraceable for years.”

  “Not to me. I covered that story a lot; a sad story where he lost two daughters. I was there when he made the decision to disappear, to save his last daughter. He thought that Kevin Wu was going to come after his third daughter as well, so he went to the hills. Off the grid, as you say. But he gave me something first.” Harry waved his finger in the air. “He gave me the details of his location just in case anything ever turned up. He wanted to know if justice ever came to Kevin Wu. And rumor in the LAPD is that they’re close to charging Kevin Wu with the murder of Monty’s second daughter. No body has been found, but they say that they can get him on kidnapping charges. Monty would love to know that piece of information.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Give me something to work with, and I’ll give you Monty’s location.”

  Harvey looked up, then left and right. Except for a few people hurrying out of the darkness, the streets were empty around them. His wonton soup was going cold, but that could wait. He usually burnt his mouth on the first sip anyway.

  “Alright, Harry, I’ll give you something. Kevin Wu is taking me to court.”

  “I know that.”

  “He claims that my hypnotherapy sessions changed his brain behavior and he’s suing me for damages. He’s saying that he made bad business deals under my influence. He claims that I unduly influenced his behavior and as a result, he’s suing me for loss and damage.”

  “This is all public knowledge. I need something more than that.”

  Harvey drew another long breath. “But my feeling is that he’s using the civil court as a precursor to the criminal court.”

  “Go on.”

  “Like you said, rumor is that he’s about to be charged with either the kidnapping or murder of Tiffany Lee, Monty’s second daughter. A tip-off has arrived and all of a sudden, that cold case is open again. But that crime occurred just after the hypnotherapy sessions.”

  “So, you’re saying that he’s going to claim that the hypnotherapy sessions changed his behavior in such a way that he’s not criminally responsible for any crime that occurred?”

  “Exactly. But he won’t make that move until the criminal charges are laid against him. The civil court is his way to test that defense without the criminal charges. A first take, if you will—a chance to test his expert witnesses and evidence, and see what works
and what doesn’t. If it works, then he’ll use the same defense in the criminal court, and if it doesn’t, he’ll know where he went wrong.”

  “Clever,” Harry commented, biting his lip. “Very clever. I knew he was cunning, but this is next level. The man should be congratulated for his planning.”

  “I’m not going to congratulate him.”

  “Of course not. But you have to admit that it’s clever, even if you’re on the wrong side of it.”

  Harvey stepped closer to Harry. “Tell me where Monty Lee is hiding.”

  “Near Wrightwood—about three hours drive from here. Take the last left as you come out of the town. It’s right up the top near Mountain High Resort. Once you pass the last house out of Wrightwood, you’ll see a rusty gate on your left. He’s living up there with his wife, mother, and child, growing their own food, and homeschooling their daughter.” He scribbled an address on a piece of paper. “There’s a small community up there on acres of private land, but be careful.”

  “Why? He was a numbers man, not the muscle of the business.”

  “He’s a former accountant, but he’s no pen pusher anymore. These days, he’s an angry man that lives off the land, and they have their own laws in the community up there. The man is dangerous, and still very, very angry. Just step carefully with Monty. Very carefully.”

  Chapter 22

  Monty Lee was indeed hard to find.

  He was hidden like a man that never wanted to be found.

  After the accidental death of his youngest daughter, his loving family was distraught and devastated. She was only five, only a sweet little angel, when her parents were at Kevin Wu’s home for a party to celebrate New Year’s Eve. Innocently, she picked up a bag of white powder and tasted it. She was dead by the time the ambulance arrived.

  As a grieving father, Monty sought someone to blame, and Kevin Wu was the obvious target. He pushed and pushed the LAPD to charge him with murder, or at least, manslaughter, and even though he was arrested and questioned, no charges were ever laid. There was simply not enough evidence to charge him with criminal negligence. Without an arrest, Monty felt like he was letting his deceased daughter down. Every day that passed without consequence for Kevin, Monty felt like he was failing his daughter, failing the honor of his family.