The Price of Candy sr-2

by Rod Hoisington

  Kagan glared at Bronner, waiting for him to explain the situation to this woman. Finally, “Please tell her, Martin.” Bronner didn’t know where to begin.

  “Tell me what? You’re going to tell me there is no money! Aren’t you? You’re going to tell me someone else gets the money, or you lawyers get the money. I already owe Mr. Bronner a thousand dollars which I don‘t have.” Her head went down and her shoulders shuddered as she cried. She looked up angrily at Sandy. “You’re going to tell me that woman sitting there kills my husband and doesn’t have to pay me money.”

  “For chrissake Bronner, talk to her,” Kagan pleaded, then said, “Mrs. Banks a wrongful death suit doesn’t work that way. It’s not that simple.”

  “You mean I’m simple and you’re all clever.”

  Kagan stood, walked around the table, and sat next to her. “Mrs. Banks you’re entitled to be compensated, to be paid, for the wrongful death of your husband. There is no question about it. But there’s no immediate money waiting here for you. There may be some money eventually. Right now, we don’t know how much or even where it might come from. Everything will be in the hands of a judge and he is a very fair man. Mr. Bronner here will go before the judge on your behalf and explain the situation. He’ll explain to the judge how you were wronged. He’ll prove to the judge exactly who is responsible. He’ll ask the judge to order that person to pay you. If the person has any assets, any money, and if Mr. Bronner can find it, then you’ll get it. This can take a long time.”

  “You’re a nice man and you’re letting me down easy. You’re telling me to just sit and wait and trust all of you, and I don’t know what to feed my kids tomorrow and they’re always hungry.”

  Sandy moved her chair closer. “Mrs. Banks....”

  “Don’t you talk to me! I can’t stand to look at you. Why is she here? Why is she here?”

  Bronner snapped, “She’s here because she’s one of the people accused of causing your husband’s death. She’s the one we’re going to go after and take every cent she has.”

  Kagan said, “Bronner! You’re throwing gasoline on the wrong fire. Miss Reid here is a victim herself. Your target is Abigail Olin.”

  “Not according to the state attorney. We spoke to him this morning. Miss Reid here is named as a co-conspirator for murder. Mr. Moran can prove prior animosity toward Mr. Banks.”

  “What animosity?” Juanita Banks asked.

  “Someone made up a story I wanted your husband dead. I certainly didn’t want him dead.” Sandy looked directly at Mrs. Banks. “I saw your husband get shot. I was there sitting with a sheriff’s detective in his police vehicle. We were trying to stop the shooting. I was there while the ambulance driver tried to save your husband’s life. Jerry go ahead and explain to Mr. Bronner what Moran is up to.”

  “Abby Olin pulled the trigger. Even though Moran would dearly love to get Miss Reid involved as a conspirator, any supposed charges against her are merely legal maneuvering. Abby is claiming she shot a prowler, which is a very minor charge and a hopeless one for you to collect on. The good news is, when the smoke clears, Moran is going to charge Abby Olin with felony murder.”

  “Which is much more serious and is perfect for your subsequent wrongful death suit,” Sandy added. “Mr. Bronner, you put this woman in front of any jury in the country and they’ll hand her the moon and then throw in all the stars for good measure.”

  “Is all this true, Jerry?” Bronner asked.

  “Every word. Mrs. Banks the reason you are going to be successful and get at least something out of this, is because of the efforts of Miss Reid. She’s the one who developed all the evidence.”

  Bronner adjusted his tie. “I apologize, Miss Reid.”

  “Call me Sandy.”

  Juanita Banks spoke up, “Call me Nita.”

  “Thank you, Nita. Where are your children right now?” Sandy asked.

  “At my house in Delaware. My mother is over there for a few days.”

  “Good. Now we’re going to work hard to get you some money. But we can guarantee nothing. The good news is you’ll no doubt be successful with your suit. Now for the bad news. You could get a judgment against Abby...that is, you could win the suit against her and still end up with nothing. This woman you’re suing is not wealthy. The judge may order her to pay you, but she might not have any money to give you or anything worth selling. You understand?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “You’re right, it certainly isn’t, nevertheless that’s the way it works. Also, this is going to take time. I mean a lot of time. Maybe two or three years if you’re lucky. Even then, we don’t know if you’ll get any money. Do you believe me? Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I believe you, but I don’t know how I’ll do it.”

  “You have to do it. Somehow, you have to pull things together and tough it out. For thousands of years husbands have been dying and their widows surviving somehow. You can do it too. Do you work? Maybe the kids can go to work. You should be eligible for some sort of government assistance as well. Get all your relatives together. Get everyone pulling for you. I know you can survive even if you get no money from this lawsuit. Now here’s something else that will help. Mr. Bronner doesn’t want any thousand dollars from you after all. That was a mistake. He wasn’t aware of the entire situation. In fact, he’s not going to charge you a dime unless he’s successful in getting some money for you. He’ll pay for all expenses out of his own pocket. Later if you do get some money, you’re going to give him a big share of it. Okay? Isn’t that right, Mr. Bronner?”

  Bronner appeared surprised. He glanced over at Jerry Kagan who had his eyebrows raised expectantly. Bronner said, “Of course. That’s fine.”

  Sandy continued, “You may be eligible for some accidental death benefits you didn’t know you had coming. People don’t realize they might have a couple of thousand dollars accidental death coverage on their homeowner’s insurance, auto policy, credit card, automobile club, bank account, union membership...the list goes on and on.”

  “How do I find out all that?”

  “Mr. Bronner will be happy to check everything out as a favor to you at no charge,” Sandy said, not even looking over at Bronner. The prissy fellow could lump it if he didn’t like it.

  “My husband was a fine man.”

  Sandy knew from her personal experiences he was not a fine man. And what was a fine man doing sneaking down to Florida trying to hook up with Abby Olin? She held back and said, “Yes, Nita, of course he was. He worked in the social services field didn’t he? Did he tell you he worked as a rehab counselor for young girls?”

  “Yes, but something happened and he was unjustly accused of doing some little thing wrong. The bosses were out to get him and it was all their fault. Then he had some problems with college. They got his records all screwed up and made him drop out. He had some other jobs and now he’s a delivery truck driver...was a delivery truck driver...he was a fine man.” Unexpectedly, she dropped her head and began sobbing.

  Sandy abruptly stood and pointed at Kagan and Bronner. “Would you two men please leave the room and close the door? Mrs. Banks and I need some time alone. She quickly took a chair closer to Nita and sat quietly waiting with hands folded in her lap.

  After a moment, without looking up Nita sighed. “Bruce wasn’t a fine man—he was a horrible man. God will punish me now for speaking against a person who is now dead.”

  “God doesn’t punish people for telling the truth. Did your husband abuse you?”

  “No, he never hit me.”

  “Did he threaten to hit you, did he physically push you around, or were you afraid of him when he came up to you? Did he ever hurt the kids?”

  She smiled and dabbed at her eyes. “No, although he hadn’t been kind or loving for a long time.”

  “Did he abuse you in bed?”

  “In bed...what do you mean?”

  “Did he force you to do things you didn’t want to do?”

&
nbsp; “No, but after the first year or so we never did much in bed because he said my body had gotten fat and ugly. I know that was my fault because I couldn’t lose some of the weight after I had the kids. He stayed away a lot. Didn’t come home for days at a time or entire weekends. He was always threatening to do something bad.

  “For example.”

  “He told me it was his house and he threatened to kick me and the kids out and we’d have to live on the street if I didn’t follow his orders. But that was usually my fault because I did something wrong around the house. Or he’d say he would take the children away because I was a lousy mother. Stuff like that, Sandy, but he never actually abused me.”

  “Nita, he emotionally abused you. It must have been a nightmare trying to keep the family and the household together, and deal with him. It would have been almost impossible for you to stand up to him to stop the abuse, and extremely difficult to get out of that marriage. How long had you been married?”

  “Nine years.”

  “Fortunately your nine year nightmare is over. You need to realize this was all him. It wasn’t you. You were a good wife and good mother. He said those things to keep you upset to control you. You may need some counseling to get all this straight in your mind. I can give you some names of counselors up in Delaware.”

  Sandy went to the conference room door. “You two can come back in here.”

  “What are you doing?” Kagan asked.

  “I’m going to find Nita some money.”

  They watched as Sandy took out her phone. She called Kevin while walking away from the group. “Kevin, before I stick my foot in my mouth, didn’t you mention Abby inherited a condo down in West Palm Beach from her father? Are you absolutely certain she still owns it?”

  “I’m certain. She keeps complaining rental income is all she has to live on.”

  “Are you certain the property isn’t mortgaged?”

  “Well now, that I’m not certain of. My guess is if she had to pay a mortgage there wouldn’t be anything left from the rental income.”

  “I can find out easily enough. How much do you figure it’d sell for?”

  She listened on the phone and then said, “Oh, really. You have the exact address?”

  “I can get it for you.”

  “Great. Get it for me. See ya.”

  Sandy came back to the group. “If we can get a judgment against her, she does have recoverable assets.”

  “What do you mean, we? This is my case,” Bronner said.

  Kagan spoke up, “Remember under Florida law you can’t touch her primary residence.”

  “What’s going on?” Nita asked.

  “No, but we can latch on to a fancy condo she owns in West Palm Beach.”

  Stunned silence from the men for a full minute.

  Then from Bronner, “Excuse me, Miss, how much are we talking about here?”

  “How does two million sound? Her ex thinks possibly more. I rounded down.”

  “Please explain.” Nita said.

  Bronner’s sizzling smile faded as the technical ramifications of pursuing a complicated, high-powered suit sunk in. He looked up at the ceiling. “A two million dollar case? I can’t do this. I mean, I’m not certain I can handle this. I’ve been doing divorces and simple cases like that.”

  Sandy said, “I’d be happy to assist you.”

  “You would? I’d be immensely grateful.”

  “I don’t come cheap.”

  He smiled.

  Sandy didn’t smile. “I’m serious. It’ll cost you big time. You might get half a million on contingency out of this. I want part of that. In return, I’ll not only work on the case, but also provide you inside information you couldn’t possible develop without me. Your future will be assured and this case just might make you the go-to attorney for wrongful death suits in South Florida.”

  Bronner’s smile broadened.

  “What’s going on?” Nita wanted to know.

  Kagan motioned Bronner over to him. “You must work very fast on this. I mean stay up nights and get the complaint ready to file. Explain to the judge the defendant is to be charged with felony murder and the state attorney’s case is rock solid. Tell him you’re ready to file but as soon as she’s served, she’ll start hiding assets and selling that condominium. That’d be grossly unjust if permitted, and circumvents the intent of the law. He must issue an immediate injunction against her disposing of any assets in anticipation of an adverse judgment. Have your precedents and arguments down perfectly.”

  “What’s going on?” Nita asked again.

  Sandy stepped over to her. “I’ll explain. First, you’re going to have to trust Martin Bronner. I’ll be working with him. He’s really going to work hard to get you lots of money.”

  “Like hitting the lottery.”

  “Nothing like the lottery. Your chances of hitting the lottery are impossible. Your suit is a slam dunk. You’re going to sue this Abby Olin for say...one million dollars. But she doesn’t owe you any money until the judge says she owes you money. The judge, or the jury, will no doubt rule in your favor. Putting the screws to her will be irresistible to them. At that point, Abby legally owes you the one million. Most people don’t have assets worth that much. Folks win judgments every day and never collect a dime from the people who wronged them. Many judgments are worthless. Abby obviously doesn’t have that much money, but we get to seize whatever assets of hers we can find. That’s why we’re excited to learn she owns a fancy Florida condo. If she sells it before we get to it, then we’ll go after the money she got in the sale. And so forth. It looks good for you, however the problem is the payoff isn’t guaranteed.”

  Nita stepped closer to Sandy and surprised her by taking her hands. “Thanks, Sandy. I understand there may be nothing. Just do the best you can.”

  Sandy wished her well and said goodbye. Martin Bronner told her if she could wait a minute, he’d drive her back to her motel.

  She said, “My family’s not going to believe I was in Florida and stayed at a big Howard Johnson with a swimming pool. I’ll wait outside for you, Mr. Bronner. I saw a bench, I want to sit with the Florida sun on my face.”

  Martin Bronner walked Sandy to the door. “I apologize for being an idiot. I know that’s inadequate and now that I’ve seen you in action....”

  “You mean now that you smell a huge fee. You dress like money, how come you’re so needy?”

  “Your frankness has a refreshing appeal to it, Sandy. My intention is to always dress as though successful. I see I failed, at least with you. It’s after five. I’d be very pleased if you’d join me for cocktails.”

  “No thanks, you’ve a lot of work to do. You’d better get an early start on that case.”

  “Correct. But I need to talk with you about our arrangement.”

  “Okay, let’s go back and sit down and start talking. Let me see your card.” He passed one over to her. “Nice address, near the courthouse. Do you work alone?”

  “Yes, a beautiful office. It was my father’s, mine now.” He smiled. “Too bad I can’t afford it.”

  “He’s retired?”

  “Alzheimer’s. I look after him.”

  “Sorry to hear that. You’ve taken over his practice...his clients. You must have a good income. You look older and experienced yet behave as if you’re straight out of law school. Offense intended. What gives?”

  “I got into the law late. I’ve been out—pardon the expression—screwing around in Italy, HK, and the UK. Before you ask, I was spending my own money, not my father’s. He was in estate law and the clients have been dying off. I’ve no client base to speak of. I’ve been taking some public defender work. I’m your basic starving lawyer.”

  “Okay, sorry I had you wrong. Let’s start over. We’re essentially in the same place. I’m just a few hours away from my law degree. Maybe I’m not the one to help you with the Nita Banks suit. What do your friends call you?”

  “Martin, of course. I know your repu
tation. I followed your work on the Towson murder. We’re not starting even. You’re far ahead of me. I’d like you to join me on this. There’s always Kagan for backup, isn’t there?”

  “Before we discuss this further, you need to know my source believes that condo in West Palm might go for over four million. We’ll sue for eight. It’s on the water and the area has been rejuvenated upscale. You could pocket a million.”

  “I like that part. But you told Mrs. Banks one million.”

  “I can’t get my head around one million let alone four and I’m sure she can’t either. Anyway, I don’t want her dreaming of two million and not getting a dime. Now you may not want me after I explain to you how it has to be. You see, my goal is my own law practice here in Park Beach after I pass the bar. I need a big score to set it up and get started. If I join you on the Juanita Bank’s suit, I’m willing to accept contingency, however I need an agreement with you for one-half of the net proceeds paid to you. Now, regarding Jerry, you’ll pay him up front—standard rates. He gets paid with no waiting. I’ve no idea where that money will come from because I don’t have zilch.”

  “One-half! You’re crazy. No way. You said I have a slam dunk case already in my pocket. I must say, I’m very impressed with you and it’d be nice to work with you. Still, as you say, I can hire all the assistance I need. I’m willing to go as high as ten percent of the net. I think that’s more than generous.”

  “Martin, you make a great appearance. You’ll look lovely in front of a jury. You’ll be dynamite with opening statements and closing arguments. You’ll make a great front man, but down in the trenches they’re going to eat you alive. So for plea bargaining and negotiations you better let me handle it. For example, right now I’m going to say to you that I insist on receiving the full fifty-percent and you can take it or leave it. And Martin, you’re going to hesitate, hem, haw, and then say that you’ll take it.” She stared at him.

  Martin Bronner turned away. He stood and buttoned his suit jacket all in the same automatic motion. He walked around the conference room table rubbing the back of his neck. He sat back down frowning. He then spoke the beautiful words Sandy needed to hear, “Okay, I’ll take it.”