"Should I send it to your regular office email?"
"Yes. That will give me evidence when the shit hits the fan that all of this was your idea."
"Ta, Michael."
For the second time that day, someone had hung up on me.
One of the hang-ups had been justified. The second one was going to be enormously expensive, and I would've given anything not to have to be there when it happened.
32
Michael
On Tuesday, the jury came back with a verdict in Jennifer's criminal case.
Speaking with the jurors after they had given their verdict, I kept hearing the same thing.
Said one, “We thought something funny was going on, but we also thought the State hadn’t proven its case beyond a reasonable doubt. So, we had to find your client not guilty."
Said another, “They simply didn't prove their case. There was no connection between Jennifer Ipswich and the death of her husband. It was a very sad situation, and I think most of us felt very sorry for her. But most of us also felt a little suspicious. But they couldn't prove anything beyond a reasonable doubt, so we found her not guilty."
After the verdict, Jennifer and I hugged, she thanked me, and then she left to go back to her office. Marcel and I returned to my office. We gathered around my desk to wrap things up. I said to him, "I didn't tell you this, but Saturday when we had our settlement conference, I saw in action what Dr. Erickson said about Jennifer and her medical chart. It was like a light switch had been thrown, and she was suddenly a woman on the make. There she was, flirting with Frank Wilder. She might even have given me the eye a couple of times.”
“Oh, I could stand that.” He chuckled.
I ignored Marcel. “Honest to God, I've never seen anything like it in thirty years. I feel sorry for the woman. But at this point, I'm wondering whether I should just jump out of the property settlement case. Maybe I should just tell her to get another attorney. Those medical records have really jaundiced my view of her. I no longer trust her, and I don't like her all that much—which is a sad commentary on me because I need to remember the things she is doing are not her, but are her medical condition acting out. God, that's hard for me to remember sometimes."
"I have great sympathy for the situation," said Marcel. "I know a lot of stuff can be controlled with medication. But there's still crap that slips through the cracks. Plus, sad but true, sometimes patients don't take their medications. But even then, I'm not faulting them for that. Many times, it's the illness itself that whispers to the patient to skip the meds. Nobody is responsible for that. That's more a matter between the patient and her angels and hope nothing bad happens during those times. It's just too damned bad in her case."
"What do you think of me staying on her case?" I asked Marcel. "Leave or stay?"
Marcel said, “It doesn't matter what I say. Knowing you, you're going to stay on the case and try to help her regardless. I've never seen you return a dog to the dog pound. I don't think you're about to start now."
“Pound puppies. God love ’em.”
Marcel clapped his hands together and sat up straight in his chair. "All right, how do we get ready for Wednesday and the hearing to end all hearings? Wilder is going to be loaded for bear, and I want us to be loaded for bear-plus-one. What do we need to do, oh boss of all bosses?"
"First, I have two appraisers out at the home doing a structure appraisal and a lot appraisal. They both agreed to be present at the hearing tomorrow. And they’ve both been paid by me. Both are young women in their thirties, and Judge Adamson will be impressed with their credentials. They are both master level MBAs, and they know their stuff forward and back. Now what about the bank accounts? What do we know about those so far?"
Marcel held up a finger. "I've collected the bank balances as of the date of Dr. Ipswich's death. It seems the balances at that date totaled around three-hundred and twenty-thousand dollars. I've had a forensic CPA do the workup, and of that amount, two-hundred eighty-five thousand was contributed directly from the medical practice of Jennifer Ipswich. This means that Elise has a very small claim of thirty-five-thousand dollars against the parties’ joint efforts. So the judge will give seventeen-thousand five-hundred to her and give the other half to Jennifer.”
“So far, so good. What else?”
“Your witness is a CPA with an MBA who is prepared to testify that he was trained at Yale University and has his MBA from Wharton Business School. He's also working on his PhD at the University of Chicago and has testified in similar hearings no less than fifty-five times. He wears thick glasses, Brooks Brothers, and a class ring on his right hand with stones that sparkle in the dark. Judge Adamson is going to be impressed with his credentials, impressed with him, and I think we will walk away with her two-hundred eight-five thousand plus another seventeen-five.”
“I can hardly wait to see that ring. What else do we have?”
“Well, you know there's one other interesting aspect of the case. Jennifer is late thirties and Elise is early thirties. They both have a life expectancy of around 85 years. I've hired an economist, George Smathers PhD, who is going to come into court and testify that Elise, once she becomes a full-fledged agent of LVP Partners, is going to make more over her work life than Jennifer. So, the equities are such that our opponent is going to make more than eleven million more than Jennifer in a normal work life. I think this is going to impress his honor."
I couldn't help but smile ear to ear. Marcel was incredible. "You've done a great job, buddy. Now I know why you’re paid the big dollars. And I know why Thaddeus Murphy is trying to steal you away from me by offering up his daughter as a living sacrifice out in San Diego."
"I know you're joking, but I don't find that at all funny. Turquoise Murphy and I love each other very much, and we expect to be together quite soon. I don't expect our marriage to have any impact on my ability to work for you when you need me and work for Thaddeus when he needs me. As you might recall, we now have jet airplanes that fly between Chicago and San Diego in four hours. I can work half day for you and half a day for him and still be home in time for a late supper."
"Whoops, sorry for the bad joke. When you and Turquoise tie the knot, I expect to be there with Verona, and I hope to get together with Thaddeus and Christine for dinner at least once. We'll put our heads together and figure out how to best use you. I only hope you're open to our planning, as you are about to become a very wealthy man."
"Uh, Michael, you might've forgotten, but you and Thaddeus have already made me a very wealthy man. It doesn't get much better."
33
Jennifer
"And how did it go with the settlement conference?" Verona Gresham asked me late Tuesday. We were together in her office again, her back against her roll-top desk, me seated on the love seat beside the box of tissues. So far, I hadn’t needed one. Today would change that, I decided.
"Well, the Paris faction is nothing but gold diggers. I was afraid it might come down to this. She's asking for one-half of everything I own without regard to the fact that I paid for about eighty-five percent of everything Joe and I owned together. My lawyer has hired people to do appraisals and forensic accounting in order to prove these things. I love my lawyer and am very pleased with his brain and good work. His intentions are also honorable, and he is a very darling man. Take it from a widow, I'm impressed with his good looks and his charm. Sure, he has his scars, but who doesn’t?”
I said this last part with a great smile, nodding, and I’m all but certain that Dr. Gresham made a note that her patient—me—seemed to be letting go of her fixation with her dead husband and was maybe opening up to the prospect of other relationships. She was pleased with my growth. She had no idea it was her own husband who was now receiving my admiring looks.
"It sounds healthy. Maybe you moved on from Joseph and are thinking about other men. Is that what you perceive yourself doing?”
"No man could ever replace Joe. He was my everything. No
, I'm just talking about men's looks generally. It's not too different a feeling then when I'm in the store selecting a cantaloupe. I check how its looks, how it sounds inside, and I smell it."
Dr. Gresham had to laugh. "Not a bad way to choose someone to have dinner with. Maybe more women should do what you do. Looks-sounds-smell. Write that down.”
"Dr. Gresham, one thing is troubling me. My attorney, at times—not all the time, mind you—seems to be undressing me with his eyes. Most of the time this makes me uncomfortable. I'm just wondering if there's anything to be gained by saying something to him to let him know that I'm not interested. The truth be told, I'm a widow still in mourning, and I can’t even imagine becoming interested in a man right now. It's kind of depressing that he doesn't realize that and instead keeps devouring me every time he looks at me. What should I do?"
"Are you giving out signals? You know, women can give out signals without realizing it. Maybe it's the way you’re dressing, maybe it's the way you smile at what he says, maybe it's what your eyes say to him. If you're having any kind of romantic feelings toward him, then you are probably unconsciously giving off clues. If I were you, I would check my motives and, more importantly, check my feelings. Sometimes, it's easy for the newly widowed to get caught up in the comfort and expertise offered by men in his position. Times like that, women can be taken advantage of. It doesn't sound to me like your lawyer’s that kind of person, but please be aware that worse things have happened. So, check your motives and check your feelings about this person. Then I think you will have a much clearer picture of what's going on, at least from your side."
I sat back and shut my eyes. I was thoughtful for several moments. Then I opened my eyes and said, "I am having feelings for him. I think I would like to have coffee or dinner with him. The only problem is he's a married man. If I were to proceed and pursue him, I wouldn't be any better than that French whore who ran my Joe to the ground and screwed him and got pregnant and is now trying to take his assets away from his real wife. That makes me insanely angry at her and her lawyer. I will fight them until the bitter end. Speaking of which, our hearing is tomorrow, and I don’t wish to come across as unreasonable. But on the other hand, I don't want to just get up on the witness stand and give away half of everything I own. That would be extremely unfair to me. I wonder if the judge will take into account the fact that this woman moved in on someone else's husband and got pregnant and is now making a run at the real wife's property. I hate her for that. But I know in court I can't come across that way. How am I supposed to cover up my true feelings once I start talking?"
"Would it be so bad if your real feelings came out? Maybe the judge would have sympathy with your position and will understand why you are angry and hurt. As long as you're not letting those feelings interfere with the property settlement itself, I don't think a judge will fault you. Therefore, I would counsel you to be yourself and to reveal your true feelings and let the court know that, despite those feelings, you're still trying to be fair about the property. If you can do that, then I think the judge is going to like you better than anyone else in the courtroom. And I have to agree, the woman who jumped on your husband and made a target of him is quite distasteful. I think any married jurist, at least one who is true to their family and spouse, will empathize with you."
"That's good advice," I said. "I'm going to take it to heart. Tomorrow I will be honest but reasonable. Thank you for that."
"Incidentally, Jennifer, I seem to have misplaced a very important wristwatch sometime last week. It's a treasure, something extremely sentimental given to me by my husband. I'm wondering whether, at our last visit, you happened to see it on the floor or if I had knocked it off something and missed seeing it."
"Of course not. I would've told you right away if I'd seen anything like that. I'm so sorry for your loss. Maybe you can ask the giver to provide you with a replacement. That could be every bit as valuable, couldn't it?"
"With me, it doesn't work that way. I need to find the original, and I'm asking all of my patients whether they saw anything out of the way the last time they were here. Anyway, we’re out of time here today. Same time next week?"
"Sounds good."
"All right, I'm putting it on my calendar. And good luck tomorrow."
"It's not about luck, doctor. It's about being honest and reasonable. I have to remember that."
"There you go. Honest and reasonable."
I plucked a tissue from the box and dabbed my eyes and blew my nose.
She could see I was reactive.
34
Michael
From what we’ve pieced together, here’s the part about Karrol. She’s an important player.
In a downtrodden location in Paris, along the north bank of the Seine, stood a row of apartment houses where the rents were very reasonable—€1100 a month for a two-bedroom. Which meant that the place was rundown, usually ran no hot water to the tenants, and was loaded with cockroaches that came out after dark and moved things around in the kitchen.
Inside one of these apartments, in a front room with the window shades drawn, sat two men and one woman, dark-complected, beards on both men, surrounded with automatic weapons and bomb-making materials.
Said the first one, named François, “So, we agree? Our target is to be LVP Partners?"
Said the one named Mikell, “We agree.” He turned to his smart phone and began recording the first part of the spiel that would be turned over to TV after the murder: “LVP Partners is active in Israel and has a presence there in the amount of over three billion. They actively help the Israelis spread their insanity beyond their borders and are financing settlements in Palestinian territory. Black December’s first target is the same. LVP Partners, we can now claim credit.” He paused for further input from his teammates.
The Egyptian woman spoke up. Her name was Karrol. "Well done. I’ve been looking and have found a Paris target, a woman who works for LVP."
François asked, “Who might that be?"
"Her name is Elise Ipswich. She lives on rue Dumont. She is single with a six-year-old daughter who is looked after by Elise's mother—a sixty-year-old woman who is nearsighted, hard of hearing, and will never know what hit them. We will take out Elise, her mother, and daughter if we strike on a Sunday afternoon. That is my recommendation."
Mikell nodded. "Then so be it. Now, all we have to do is decide which Sunday we are going to strike.”
“What about kidnapping her?” asked Francois.
Mikell said, “We might do even better by kidnapping this Elise and making a demand for several million dollars from LVP Partners for her safe return. This would leverage our ability here in Paris to effect our ends. It would put money in our bank account, and we could buy more C4 and plastique and more bullets. Friends, I think we are just beginning here. Let me think more about this, and I will make a decision soon."
"Of course," said François.
"As you wish," said Karrol.
35
Elise
Email from Elise Ipswich to the addressees below:
•Michael Gresham
•Frank Wilder
•Jennifer Ipswich, M.D.
Good morning everyone! Tomorrow is the big day when we go into court for our first hearing on Joe's assets. I have to admit, I'm just a little bit frightened at the prospect. So, I have decided to take a few minutes, write everyone, and try one last time to settle without court.
I don't think I can emphasize strongly enough that I would be willing to settle this case for one-half of the insurance proceeds, and then I would go away quietly. That would give me enough to take care of Çidde.
What I mean is, it would give me enough to buy her medicines and maybe even find a nicer place for her to live where there are fewer environmental allergens as she has an impaired immune system and dust and mold all but puts her to bed and keeps her there. Plus, I might buy a house with a yard as she wants a dog more than anything.
Combin
ed with her HIV compromise and the potent drug she is taking, my little girl is having a tough time. She's uncomfortable for most of the days, and it's not unusual for her to have to come home from school early, maybe two or three times a week. So, you can see, I would really like to get this over with and get home to her and do what I can to make her life better.
While he was here with us, Joseph spent a good deal of time with his daughter. Being a doctor, he checked her regularly, kept up with the literature on her primary diagnoses, and kept things in balance in her life. In other words, she had the best medical care money could buy, except we didn't even have to buy it. It was all Joseph. Now we've gone from 100% to maybe 15% of the same kind of care for Çidde.
She shows it.
I particularly want to speak to Jennifer, who is a children's doctor. I know that you spend your days trying to make sick children well and trying to keep well children well, and I know you must be able to sympathize with Çidde’s plight. If I lived here in Chicago, you would be the first person I would bring my daughter to see. I would trust you with her care, and I know that you would have a special place in your heart for her. I'm asking you at this time to have that same special place in your heart for her. While she is not your daughter, she is your husband's daughter, and I hope that counts for something. What I'm trying to say is, she is a piece of Joe left behind, and it's my wish that someday our children can know each other and can remember their father together, all of the separate parts making the whole that much stronger.
Girl, Under Oath (Michael Gresham Series) Page 12