The Return of the Man in Blue

by C. S Luis

  “What’s wrong, Michael?” I asked glaring at the large yellow envelope he was holding. He had that perplex look in his eyes.

  “It’s an envelope, addressed to me?” he merely offered with a curve of his lip.

  “Who is it from, Michael?” I curiously asked looking at him.

  “I don’t know, there’s no return address on it anywhere.” He turned the envelope around and found nothing, just ‘Dr. Michael McClellan’ written on the front of the envelope, “It must have been hand delivered, there’s no address on it at all.”

  “Hand delivered? By who?”

  “I don’t know perhaps Mrs. Wallace would know.” Michael turned to find the woman at her desk taking a call and when she had hung up, she gazed up at Michael as he came to show her the yellow envelope.

  “Mrs. Wallace, do you have any idea who delivered this envelope?” Michael politely asked lifting the envelope so she could see it.

  She looked at it as Michael handed it to her. And she took a hold of it, turning it around and then handed it back to Michael.

  “No, sir. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen that.” Mrs. Wallace said turning back to the work on her desk.

  “Well, it was in my mail slot. Did you see who dropped it off?” Michael again asked the busy secretary.

  She thought about it for a moment and finally said, “No, sir. I don’t recall. It’s been a pretty busy morning. I’m sorry.” He nodded as the phone rang again and she took the call.

  Michael wandered back to the door where I was still standing.

  “I’m not sure.” he said, looking slightly curiously over at me.

  “Well, open it.” I said to him. “Maybe whoever send it left a note inside.”

  We walked over to his office again and I stood in front of his desk as he found his letter opener in the top drawer. Using the small device, he opened it immediately and pulled out a stack of documents clipped properly together with a letter on top, he turned the envelope over and a single DVD disc fell out. Michael unfolded the letter and found a name he recognized and immediately started reading out loud so I could see what was on it as well.

  “It’s from Mr. Slater.” he commented as he started reading.

  “Is it for me?” I wondered, suddenly blushing.

  “I’m not sure, my dear, but let’s read and see what it says.” Michael offered.

  The note read;

  * * *

  Dear Michael,

  * * *

  I thought you would be interested in hearing I’ve uncovered incriminating evidence regarding our phony Mr. Vega and his claim of being Claudia’s uncle. It turns out that he and Mr. West; Dr. Edwards’ attorney conspired to forger Dr. Edwards’ will in the attempts of extorting Claudia’s inheritance. It also appears that Dr. Edwards knew of this imposter long before anyone else did. And tried to expose him but was unable to before he died.

  Within the contents of this envelope are the details and information you’ll require to prove such corruption. I’ve taken the liberty of mailing a copy of these documents to your attorney, Mr. Jenkins, who should also be receiving them presently.

  Don’t worry about Mr. West, I’ve had a long discussion with him and I’m happy to say that I’ve convinced him to see things my way. The documents you hold in your hand should prove who this imposter truly is, enough to put him in prison for a long time. I’ve taken the liberty of composing several police reports and a well-documented criminal background record pertaining to this phony Vega. In case you need more proof, although I’m sure you have more than enough. But rest assured that this imposter has no leverage in the stakes of Claudia’s estate. I’ve made sure of that.

  * * *

  As always, please take care of yourself, and my girl.

  * * *

  It was not dated, simply signed with a simple line that was a J, for John and then Slater.

  How did he find this out? I could read Michael’s thoughts as he was looking at the paperwork, then he noticed that the signatures of Neil’s name, my grandfather, didn’t match up. He knew because he recognized Neil’s handwriting. He didn’t work with a guy long enough to know such things as his handwriting, he thought again.

  “When did Mr. Slater have time to do this?” Michael said out loud regarding the documents Mr. Slater had uncovered and sent to him. I gazed up at him.

  “Does it say anything else?” I sadly asked.

  “No, I’m sorry, darling.” Michael softly said.

  I tried not to let it bother me, perhaps Mr. Slater would send me something soon. If he had time to write to Michael about this, perhaps he would write me a more personal letter and tell me he was thinking about me, I didn’t doubt that.

  “Claudia, he cares,” Michael tried to say noticing the disappointment on my face. “After all, he took the time to investigate that dirty rat. We have what we need.” I nodded.

  He was right. Mr. Slater had done just that. But I still missed him so much and wanted to know if he did too.

  The phone at the other end of the interior main office rang on Mrs. Wallace’s desk. The phone seemed to be quite busy this morning. We meant to walk out until Mrs. Wallace called over to us from her desk with the phone in her hand.

  “Sir, it’s Mr. Jenkins”—she said politely motioning the phone.

  “Tell him we’re just leaving now.” She waved the phone in the air; the expression on her face seemed an urgent one.

  “He said it’s important.” Michael glanced over at me and sighed; now what, I could read his thoughts as he walked over to the phone and put it to his ear.

  “Yes?” He answered, listening very carefully to the voice at the other end. Mrs. Wallace and I watched with dreadful anticipation until the expression on Michael’s face changed from a firm worried one to a reassuring smile.

  “You did? That’s wonderful—yes, yes that is great news. Thank you, we’ll be right over. Thank you.”

  “Sir, what is it?” Mrs. Wallace asked before I could. I blinked up at him as he stared at the both of us with that same smile of confidence. And I prayed the news was good.

  “Mr. Slater---he came through.” Michael answered.

  “Mr. Slater?” Mrs. Wallace asked in doubt and some confusion. “Well, there’s a name I haven’t heard in a few days.” Michael smiled while moving to the door. He put his arm around my shoulder and led me away, ignoring Mrs. Wallace’s comment.

  “Dr. McClellan?” We heard Mrs. Wallace calling, he turned and glanced back.

  “Is everything okay?” She asked again, as her phone rang again.

  Michael smiled back at her and said, “Everything is fine.” And with that, he pulled me with him out the door and we walked out into the hallway.

  “Michael, what is it?” I asked as we headed down the long hall.

  “Mr. Slater came through,” he merely uttered, hurrying down the hallway. That was reassuring but what did it all mean?

  By the time we arrived to court and Mr. Jenkins ushered us in, things were far clearer. Well, at least slightly. We took our seats and started, everyone including Mr. Vega and his attorney were already seated and awaiting us. I noticed Mr. Jenkins and Michael discussing what appeared to be several documents, it looked like the same documents Michael had received from Mr. Slater. They both smiled at their newfound information, and for the first time, it seemed Mr. Jenkins was reassured of his victory.

  From afar the table at the other side, I noticed Mr. Vega’s attorney look over, he was onto the scent. Before court began, Mr. Jenkins pulled over Mr. Vega’s attorney and the men seemed to be in great discussion. From the looks of it, Mr. Vega’s attorney seemed unable to go on. His confidence suddenly appeared inexistent.

  From the other end, Mr. Vega’s eyes were transfixed on me. His mind seemed to read, girl, why won’t you just share your wealth with me? Who knows, you could perhaps learn to like me. Disgusted, I looked the other way.

  Then Mr. Vega’s attorney rose and spoke to the Judge. “May we approach the
bench, Your Honor?” And so they did. The attorneys were speaking with the Judge. And just like that, they took a seat, Mr. Jenkins looked pleased unlike Mr. Lundell who was Mr. Vega’s attorney. He seemed to be trying to explain to him what had just happen.

  What did just happen? I wondered. I was completely confused. Had we won? Then the Judge said, "After hearing from Mr. Jenkins and Mr. Lundell, if there is no further disagreement from either of your clients, then there will be no point to further continue. ---" The Judge began; I sat very quietly in the courtroom, with Michael alongside our attorney, Mr. Jenkins.

  “Not at this time, Your Honor.” Mr. Lundell answered, making Mr. Vega suddenly rise.

  "What!" Mr. Vega yelled, a usually short man with dark hair and a pasty complexion rose from his seat. He almost fell forward as he glared over at our table. His attorney instructed him to take a seat but he was outraged.

  “I need that money--!” The words seemed to pour from his rather thin lips as he bit his lower lip. He directed his dark beady eyes at me and seemed to curse the very place I sat. I glared back at him with a firm lip, unafraid.

  “Mr. Lundell, will you instruct your client to be quiet!" The Judge yelled over his gable. Mr. Vega calmed and straightened his tie, regaining his composure as his attorney grabbed his arm and pulled him down into his seat. Mr. Lundell whispered something to Mr. Vega and his eyes became as wide as saucers and seemed to turn slightly colorful.

  After their brief exchange of words, an unpleased stare spread over Mr. Vega's face as he looked over at us.

  "Forgive me, Your Highness." Mr. Vega said, and then shrugged his shoulders up at the Judge who was glaring wickedly down at him from his Judge's seat with the gable in midair.

  "--- Court Adjourned." The judge dropped the gable and the courtroom cleared.

  Michael and I exited the courtroom, and after shaking hands with our attorney, we would have called it a good day until we spotted Mr. Vega waiting outside the courtroom for us. He immediately came towards us and made a move for me, but Michael's towering form blocked him. Michael was quite tall if not that Mr. Vega was already shorter than the average man, so he looked awkwardly shorter standing in front of Michael.

  Mr. Vega narrowed his eyes at me and flashed me the same evil grin I had come to dread and fear.

  "I hope there are no bad feelings between us?" Mr. Vega said to me, then extended his hand in a handshake; I wasn't easily fooled by him, but would Michael fall for it?

  Michael politely returned the smile and shook Mr. Vega’s hand without discrimination.

  "No, of course not." Michael said, he squeezed me close to him.

  "I was only trying to do what's best for Claudia, she is my niece after all. You understand?" Mr. Vega said and reached over to pat me on the head, but I pulled away. The smile on his face faded into a firm slim line as I frowned over at him.

  "Oh, don’t be like that, my dear. There should be no hard feelings between us, we are family." He confidently said.

  “You’re not—” But Michael put his hand on my shoulder to stop me and I glanced back at him, puzzled. I guess he figured there was no point in arguing with the man who had no sense and believed his own lies.

  His attorney seemed to want to say something, but Mr. Vega was ignoring the obvious. Michael lifted his eyes and glared at both of them, and with a smile of assurance, it stirred the curiosity of Mr. Vega’s expression.

  "Hasn’t your attorney explained everything or anything to you?” Michael asked.

  "What do you mean, McClellan?" groaned Mr. Vega under his breath.

  “Are you that arrogant? Perhaps you should listen for once---Mr. Vega.” Michael grinned wide; he was in control now and that assured me.

  Mr. Lundell whispered into Mr. Vega’s ear, a look of concern suddenly seemed to fall on Mr. Vega's face. His eyes wandered, momentarily desperate and lost until Michael spoke again, slowly leaning forward towards him. Mr. Vega looked frightened.

  “Or should I say Mr. Cortez”---- Mr. Vega, now clearly Mr. Cortez, stopped blinking then swallowed hard. “I’m sure the authorities in Oregon would be very interested to know what you’ve been up to. Or wherever it is you evaded custody for so many years. I’m sure they’d be happy to find out where you’ve been hiding all this time.” Michael smirked.

  * * *

  "And I’m sure Mr. West will be very helpful…once our attorney, Mr. Jenkins, serves him with a subpoena. I’m almost positive he will be very happy to volunteer everything he knows of you and his plot to forgery Dr. Edwards’ will. You and I know what rich people would give to protect their own reputation." Michael explained in a whisper with a smile in response.

  “I’ve been generous, if your attorney hasn’t explained it already, to drop the charges with the exception you leave and never contact Claudia again." Michael firmly said.

  Mr. Cortez's eyes widened and his mouth dropped. He was speechless suddenly, for someone that usually wasn't.

  "Mr. Cortez?" His attorney called over to him but Mr. Cortez couldn't move. He then put out his hand and stopped his attorney, then glanced up at Michael, defeated and frightened.

  Michael came closer, towering over the man.

  "I never want to see your face around here again.” Michael said.

  “Are you serious?” Mr. Cortez snapped in disbelief. He had a lot of nerve; how could he even ask, he had made a mockery of Michael’s generosity.

  “You’re lucky I'm not getting you arrested for fraud and identity theft. For God knows I can. And I believe Mr. Lundell, your attorney would agree." Michael reiterated.

  Mr. Cortez swallowed hard, blinking his eyes up at him. How had he gotten this information, he wondered? I could see that in his thoughts just as I could see that in his very eyes. He was defeated and yet there seemed to be struggle in his mind, a struggle to continue the fight. What was wrong with this man?

  Michael turned away with me by his side, but as we took two steps, we heard the voice of Mr. Cortez speak again. Michael slowly turned, this man had a nerve. I spun my head back with Michael by my side, his hand on my shoulder.

  "You know, I think we can work something out…" Mr. Cortez said with a smile and took a step forward with that same creepy expression as always. His eyes found me standing beside Michael; his blank face was a line of questions and disappointment until I saw his eyes staring at the crystal around my neck. Then the smile spread on his face and I knew. He glared directly at Michael with a glitter in his eyes.

  "Mr. Lundell." He said to his attorney. "Your services will no longer be required, you may leave."

  "But Mr. Vega…as your attorney, I advise you to take the offer…these are some serious charges against you. And this is an excellent offer…” the attorney continued.

  “That is all.” Mr. Cortez snapped with a sneer on his face.

  The attorney stopped his speech, and confusedly disappeared down the crowded hallway from their view. Michael wrinkled his eyebrows curiously at Mr. Cortez. He had a bad feeling, realizing there was confidence in the short man's beady dark eyes. But I already knew, I saw it when I looked into his eyes.

  “Michael”—I tried to say, but my voice was a mere whisper. I was in sheer panic; he was the face I had seen around that corner looking over at us when Q tried to kidnap me. He had seen everything that had happened. He knew he had come across something, although still not quite certain he knew it was enough to play the cards.

  “He knows.” I whispered but Michael barely heard. If he did, it was now quite obvious as Mr. Cortez moved forward and drew closer, and as much as he wanted to be eye level to Michael, he couldn't. But he stood to face him with a grimace. The grin stretched far to each side of his face. And Michael suddenly knew something was wrong.

  "How much do you think they'll pay me when I tell them about her?" he said, pointing a bony finger at me.

  Michael blinked; the frown vanished and uncertainty washed over his face.

  "What are you talking about?" Michael nervo
usly whispered. But it was obvious he knew far more than we feared, at least enough to use it against us.

  "You know exactly what I mean." Mr. Cortez again grinned, baring teeth and all.

  "No one will ever believe you." Michael angrily answered, realizing his threats.

  "Won't they? I could have solid proof.”

  "You're lying…she has never…" but his lip froze, had he already said too much? Mr. Cortez smiled.

  "Am I? Are you ready to find out?" Mr. Cortez challenged.

  “What do you know?” Michael nervously asked.

  “Oh, you can’t begin to understand what I know? But rest-assured, I know enough to know Slater was no real principal.” Mr. Cortez grinned wide. “Did you think I was an idiot?” It was enough for me that he had seen us, but long had he been there. His thoughts said “long enough to know I wasn’t an ordinary girl.”

  “How?” Michael angrily hissed but now it didn’t matter, it was there in his eyes, that malice pending. I pulled near Michael, grabbing for his arm as he stared over at me. He wanted to assure me everything was going to be alright but we both knew we had to play the devil's game for as long as we could to protect our secret.

  "What do you want?" Michael finally asked under his breath.

  “What do I want indeed?” Mr. Cortez humored. “First, you will drop the charges against me, of course. And destroy any records and anything else you might have on me. And don’t even think about calling the police and reporting my whereabouts to the authorities in Oregon---or I’ll talk. Also, make sure your attorney is informed, tell him you’ve made a gravely mistake. That you got the wrong person. And then I want---I want a portion of her assets.”

  “I will not do such a thing!” Michael growled.

  “You will if I say you will.” He moved forward.

  “I can’t; you forget the will. I cannot! And I won’t.” Mr. Cortez thought for a moment, then frowned. Then a smile spread wider on Mr. Cortez's face and I knew there was going to be changes from that moment.