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A King's ransom

Page 33

by James Grippando


  I stopped her with a gentle touch, then looked at the judge and said, “The plaintiff calls Maggie Johans.”

  “What?” said Duncan, rising.

  Jenna shot me an equally surprised look.

  Duncan said, “I spoke with Mr. Rey last night, and he told me that the only witness he and his girlfriend planned to call at this so-called hearing was himself.”

  “First of all, Ms. Davies is my co-counsel, and I would appreciate it if Mr. Fitz would show her the respect of not referring to her as my girlfriend.”

  “That was rather tacky,” said the judge.

  “I apologize, Your Honor.”

  “More important,” I said, “had Mr. Fitz told me that Ms. Johans was planning to fly down from New York to be in the courtroom today, I would have told him differently.”

  The judge shrugged, nonchalant. “That’s the way it goes, Mr. Fitz. I’ve seen lawyers pluck witnesses out of the balcony. It’s the risk you run if you show up in the courthouse. I’m afraid we may have to put your girlfriend on the stand.”

  “But this is not an ordinary witness. Ms. Johans is a lawyer, and-”

  Maggie tugged his sleeve, interrupting.

  “Excuse me, Your Honor.” Duncan stooped over to take her comment. Maggie cupped a hand to her mouth to prevent the judge from hearing, but she whispered loudly enough for me to overhear. I presumed it was intentional.

  “How many jury trials has this kid had?”

  I didn’t hear Duncan’s answer, but I did see the smile on Maggie’s face.

  He straightened up and said, “In the interest of bringing this hearing to a rapid conclusion, Ms. Johans will take the stand.”

  Maggie rose, stepped around the table, and shot one quick glance at me as she passed. It wasn’t overdone, just a subtle signal that I couldn’t get a thing out of her with a blowtorch.

  “Swear the witness,” the judge said.

  Maggie raised her hand and recited the oath, placing particular emphasis on the words “the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” She’d said it with such genuine conviction. Liars always did.

  I exchanged one last glance with Jenna. She whispered, “What are you going to do now?”

  “Plan B.”

  “Which is?”

  “It’ll come to me.”

  The judge said, “Mr. Rey, please proceed.”

  I stepped toward the witness, stopping ten feet away from her icy stare. She stated her name, and I asked, “What position do you hold with Quality Insurance Company?”

  “I’m general counsel.”

  “So you’re an officer of the company?”

  “Correct.”

  “And you’re also a partner with the law firm of Cool Cash. I mean Coolidge, Harding and Cash, which serves as outside counsel to Quality Insurance Company.”

  “That’s correct.”

  That was about as far as my prepared questions would take me. At that point there was nothing to do but go for the throat. “Have you ever heard the name Jaime Delpina?”

  “Objection.” Just the mention of the man’s name had pushed Duncan’s button.

  The judge said, “Give the young man a chance, Mr. Fitz. Overruled.”

  “Yes,” Maggie answered tentatively.

  “He was an employee of Quality Insurance, correct?”

  She glanced at Duncan, then answered, “That’s correct.”

  “He was one of the people who processed my father’s application for kidnap-and-ransom insurance, correct?”

  “One of several, yes.”

  “How many of those several employees have had their employment terminated?” I said with just a touch of sarcasm.

  “To my knowledge, only Mr. Delpina.”

  Duncan rose, “I don’t see how any of this is relevant.”

  “You will,” I said. “How many applications for kidnap-and-ransom insurance did Mr. Delpina process this year?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “More than fifty?”

  “I don’t have any idea.”

  “Come now,” said the judge. “You must have some idea how many of these policies are written. Quality Insurance isn’t exactly Lloyds of London.”

  “Fewer than fifty,” she said.

  “In fact, the exact number is thirty-one, isn’t it?” Showing a command of the facts was a good way to control a witness-I’d learned that from Duncan.

  She shifted uneasily and said, “That sounds right.”

  Duncan was again on his feet. “Your Honor, the witness shouldn’t be forced to guess.”

  “Fair enough,” said the judge. “Don’t guess, Ms. Johans. But remember that you’re under oath, and I’m the one who evaluates credibility here.”

  Maggie looked at the judge, then at me. “The answer is thirty-one.”

  “Isn’t it also true that one of Mr. Delpina’s policies resulted in a kidnapping for which the company denied coverage?”

  “That’s why we’re here. That one isolated policy is your father’s, which was denied on grounds of fraud. ”

  “Am I also correct that Mr. Delpina’s remaining policies have been sold to secondary insurers on the reinsurance market?” I had to hold my breath on this one. It was what Jaime had told me, but I wasn’t sure what Maggie would say.

  “That’s true, but that’s not uncommon.”

  “Just so we all understand, selling the policy to a secondary insurer shifts the risk of loss to the new insurer, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “So if those other policyholders are kidnapped, the ransom won’t be paid by Quality Insurance Company, will it?”

  “That’s the whole point of reinsurance.”

  “Let me put it another way. When those other policyholders are kidnapped, the ransoms won’t be paid by your company.”

  “Objection.”

  “There’s no jury here,” said the judge. “Let’s see how the witness handles the question.”

  “I’m not sure I understand it.”

  “I think you do. You know it’s only a matter of time before others are kidnapped, just like my father.”

  “I have no such knowledge.”

  “I renew my objection,” said Duncan. “These questions are simply wild accusations. There’s no evidentiary foundation whatsoever.”

  “Mr. Rey, I’m trying to give you your day in court, but the man has a point. Why don’t you move on to more solid ground?”

  “Surely. Ms. Johans, is it fair to say that Quality Insurance treats information about kidnap-and-ransom insurance as highly confidential?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “That’s because a policyholder might become a kidnapping target if it were known that he had kidnap-and-ransom insurance, correct?”

  “I don’t believe that would ever happen. But that’s the theoretical fear.”

  “So the company takes certain internal precautions to maintain a level of secrecy. For example, policies are coded so that names are not readily accessible.”

  “That’s right.”

  “The policies themselves are kept in a locked vault.”

  “Yes.”

  “A limited number of employees are given access to the codes and policies.”

  “True.”

  “Jaime Delpina had access to the names, codes, and complete terms of all thirty-one policies we just mentioned, didn’t he?”

  She paused, again looking at Duncan. He started to rise, but the judge nipped the spurious objection in the bud. “Sorry,” the judge said. “I didn’t hear the witness’s answer.”

  “Mr. Delpina had access,” said Maggie.

  “Do you know where Mr. Delpina is these days?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “He no longer works for Quality, does he?”

  “No.”

  “You terminated his employment.”

  “Yes. I believe it was an issue of habitual tardiness.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from smirking. “Before he was dismissed
for ‘tardiness,’ he found the time to process thirty-one kidnap-and-ransom policies.”

  “That was my testimony, yes.”

  “The dollar amount of coverage for ransom under your policies is typically in the millions, isn’t it?”

  “We don’t write it for less than a million. On average, it’s two to five.”

  “Theoretically, if all thirty-one policyholders were kidnapped, the company could be out as much as a hundred and fifty million dollars in ransom payments alone?”

  “That would never happen.”

  “At least another ten million for investigator expenses.”

  “Like I said, that would never happen.”

  “You’re right. I suppose it was more the bad publicity that worried you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It wouldn’t be good for business if word got out that one of your employees was selling the names of policyholders to would-be kidnappers.”

  “Objection.”

  “Overruled.”

  “But, Judge,” said Duncan, groaning.

  “The witness shall answer.”

  “No, it wouldn’t be good for business. But that’s not what happened here.”

  “Jaime Delpina was selling that information.”

  “Not true.”

  “That’s why he was terminated.”

  “No. Tardiness.”

  “That’s why you made him disappear.”

  “Objection!”

  “Sustained.”

  “You denied my father’s claim to hide your own fraud.”

  “Objection!”

  “Mr. Rey, please.”

  “You knew that my father was just the beginning. You sold Jaime’s other policies to get off the hook for thirty more disasters.”

  “Objection.”

  “Sustained!”

  The judge banged the gavel, but I pushed on, louder. “You cheated my father, you defrauded other insurers, you allowed thirty people to wander the globe without bothering to tell them that their names have been sold to dangerous criminals. You covered up the whole thing to minimize your exposure and prevent a publicity nightmare that would have cost you millions!”

  “Objection, objection! No foundation, no facts in evidence.”

  “That’s enough!” the judge shouted. “Mr. Rey, I’m going to jump down there and tackle you if you take one step further without establishing some evidentiary basis for these questions.”

  I paused to collect myself. A tense silence filled the courtroom. “Your Honor, I’d like to give Mr. Fitz the opportunity to withdraw his objection.”

  “What?” he said, incredulous.

  “If he doesn’t, I’ll be happy to call another witness who can lay the foundation for this entire line of questioning.” I looked straight at my old boss and said, “I know where Jaime Delpina lives. Or should I say Jaime Ochoa.”

  He went white. Without words, Maggie seemed to be screaming for help from the witness stand. The name “Ochoa” was my trump card, my way of letting them know that I knew all about Mr. Delpina’s newly assumed identity. I’d clearly played it right.

  “Judge, I’d like a brief recess to confer with my client.”

  “She’s in the middle of her testimony,” the judge replied.

  If I was going to get my money today, I had to let Duncan talk to Maggie. “I’ll dismiss the witness, if I can have the right to recall her.”

  “Fine. We’ll take five minutes,” the judge said with a loud bang of the gavel.

  The lawyers rose on command, and Judge Weinstein exited to her chambers.

  Maggie stepped down and went straight to Duncan, seemingly ready to burst. Together they raced down the aisle to the rear exit. The big wooden doors slammed as they made their way out to the courtyard.

  I nearly collapsed in the chair next to Jenna, my heart pounding.

  “That was amazing,” she said.

  “You’re not kidding.”

  “And you didn’t even need any help from your girlfriend.”

  I did a double take, then realized that she was playing on Duncan’s little jab at the beginning. “Oh, right.”

  The doors in the back of the courtroom creaked open. “Nick,” Duncan shouted, his voice booming through the courtroom. “We need you.”

  Jenna and I hurried up the aisle, out the door. Maggie was pacing nervously in the courtyard, smoking a cigarette. She walked up to me and said, “I know you’re bluffing.”

  “Do you?”

  “You know there’s no way Mr. Ochoa is going to walk into this courtroom.”

  “The question is, do you know that?”’

  Her eyes narrowed. She looked ready to hit me. Duncan touched her shoulder, forcing her to step back.

  “Let’s keep our heads about this,” he said. “I suggest that we all go back to the office and see if we can’t work something out.”

  “No,” I said.

  Jenna gasped. Now I thought she was going to hit me.

  “No?” said Duncan.

  “I’m not going anywhere. If you want to settle, it’s right here, right now. No more delays. No more stonewalling. Three million dollars, and not a penny less. Period.”

  Maggie’s face reddened. The hatred for me was obvious, not for what I was doing now but for what I’d discovered-about her.

  “All right,” said Maggie, her eyes narrowing. “You can have three million. But that buys your silence. We sign a strict confidentiality agreement that prohibits you from breathing a word about this to the press, to the police, to anyone.”

  “No way on earth.”

  “No confidentiality, no money.”

  Part of me said take the money and ignore the agreement. But that would have made me no better than her. “I’m not signing any agreement. Three million dollars is what it takes to keep me from calling Jaime Ochoa to the witness stand right now and from calling every news station in Miami to come down here and listen to him.”

  She stared me down coldly, but I didn’t flinch. “One point five million. No agreement of confidentiality. Take it, you cocky son of a bitch, before I change my mind.” She stepped closer and said, “I swear, even if Jaime Ochoa does walk into that courtroom, we’ll appeal. It’ll be years before you get dime one to buy back your father.”

  It pained me to compromise, but at bottom I was bluffing about Ochoa’s willingness to testify. And if I were to drag him here, his recollection of the garbage disposal surely wouldn’t include the part where he pulled the knife. With a Sunday deadline, I didn’t see a choice.

  I looked her straight in the eye and said, “Deal.”

  She looked stunned, as if the last thing she’d expected was for me to leave money on the table today so that justice could be done later. But for no amount of cash could this company buy my eternal silence.

  “Let’s tell the judge,” said Duncan. He pulled Maggie away. Side by side, they returned to the courtroom. Jenna and I followed. The bailiff went for the judge. In less than a minute she was back on the bench, all parties standing before her.

  Duncan said, “Your honor, the parties have reached a settlement.”

  “Is that true, Mr. Rey?”

  I had a moment’s hesitation, imagining the look on Alex’s face when I told her that we were short by a million and a half dollars. But I had to take what I could get. “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Glad to hear it. File a notice of dismissal once you’ve finalized matters.” She rose, then looked at me and said, “Good luck to your father. I mean that.”

  “We’ll need it,” I said quietly.

  She banged her gavel and stepped down.

  For a moment I couldn’t move, paralyzed by my own mixed emotions. I was relieved finally to have something with which to bargain for my father’s freedom. But I was so angry that I’d had to fight so hard to get less than everything from the very bastards who’d gotten him kidnapped.

  Jenna touched my hand, as if sensing my ambivalence. “Come on, Nick.”
r />   I followed her back to our table to collect our briefcases. I felt as though I were moving in slow motion. Finally Duncan crossed to our side of the courtroom and handed me a yellow sheet of legal paper that he’d folded into thirds.

  “Here’s a list of information we’ll need from you to wire the funds,” he said.

  “I’m pretty familiar with what’s necessary.”

  He pressed the paper into my hand. “In this case there are some special instructions.”

  I looked at him, puzzled. Without another word he turned and started down the center aisle with his client.

  I had a sick feeling that he was up to his tricks. I quickly unfolded the note, dreading what I might read. Immediately I saw that it had nothing to do with wiring instructions. But it wasn’t even close to what I’d feared.

  It was a quote attributed to the centuries-old teachings of the Talmud. It read, “The duty of ransoming captives supersedes charity to the poor.”

  I faced the rear of the courtroom and caught sight of Duncan just as he was heading out the door. He glanced my way, pausing a moment till his eyes met mine. No words were exchanged. He simply gave a quick nod, then continued out behind his client.

  “What was that all about?” asked Jenna.

  “What?”

  “That little thing between you and Duncan.”

  I tucked the note in my pocket. “I’m not sure.”

  I picked up my briefcase and started out, wondering if the note was simply Duncan’s way of wishing me and my father well, no hard feelings.

  Or was he trying to tell me that he was “A Friend”?

  63

  I drove straight from the courthouse to the FBI field office. All along I’d felt that if I had a friend at the FBI, it was Agent Nettles, the first agent who’d visited my mother after the kidnapping. Maybe I was kidding myself, maybe I just wanted to prove to the FBI that my family wasn’t at all the way Agent Huitt had painted us. Whatever it was, I called Nettles on his cell phone to give him an inkling of my discovery.

  Less than a minute after my arrival, Nettles and I were in the office of Raul Carreras, the assistant special agent in charge, the second-highest-ranking agent in the office. I had the distinct feeling that my case had been assigned a new level of priority. They listened, took notes, sipped coffee from big blue mugs emblazoned with the FBI shield. When I’d finished, the men exchanged glances.

 

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