While I waited for the police, I found Marco’s card and called his after-hours number.
Marco answered after two rings. “Pit Bull Security, this is Marco.”
“Marco, it’s Mary Katz. My house was burglarized some time today. I’m waiting for the police now. Were any of your guys watching the place today?”
“Oh, geez, Mary, I’m sorry. We were only watching out for you, so Flako went by your office. When he saw you were gone, he figured you were in court. We never went by the house at all today. But Flako was going to pass by a couple of times later tonight. I’ll get him to come by now.”
“Flako? Which one is he?”
“The hefty guy who always wears the baseball cap.”
“But flako means chicken. I thought that’s what skinny guys are called.”
“It is, but it’s our little joke. The skinny guy in the office we call Gordo, which means —”
“I know. The fat guy. I’m not that big a Gringo. The police are here now. It’s not your fault about this.” I hung up and answered the door before Sam crashed through it.
The officers checked every part of the house. I couldn’t find anything missing, just vandalized.
“I sent Officer Lewis to talk to your neighbors. See if anyone else has had an intruder recently, or see if anyone saw someone around your house,” Officer Viejo said.
“Other than your parents and your neighbor, does anyone else have a key?”
“Not that I can remember. But I’ve had some other problems lately. Someone slashed one of my tires in my office parking lot and then someone threw a rock into my office window right where I was sitting. Officer, is that blood on my rug?”
“No, go over there and sniff it,” he said.
“Ketchup! Someone poured ketchup on my rug and on my bed.” I sat down on the floor and began to laugh. It was more like hysterics.
“I’ll get you a copy of our report in the morning. This looks like vandalism. Any kids that you’ve had a problem with?”
“No, there aren’t too many kids here. It’s either older couples or younger professionals. I still can’t see how someone came in here and lured my dog into the yard.”
“Well, it looks like you’ve got a cleanup on your hands, but you’re lucky. You’ve still got your computer and your TV. The ketchup may even clean up out of your rug. Call us if you find anything missing, but I doubt we’ll ever find who did this.”
The officers rushed away to another call. I fed Sam and began to pick up the mess. The rocker was in three pieces. Maybe Donnie Robbins, the furniture restorer, could work on it. He was an old client from the Field-stone firm. Then it hit me. Frank still had a key to the house and Sam knew him well. Frank also knew that the rocker and the rug had a history in my family. He also knew my weakness for fries and ketchup.
I went to the kitchen and found the empty ketchup bottle in the sink. My first call in the morning was to the locksmith to change the locks on all the doors
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Monday morning I went to the office early. I had a restless weekend. Even after the locks were changed. I felt uneasy. I mulled over what action to take against Frank. If I called the police and they arrested Frank for burglary, his legal career could be over. I didn’t want to take away his law license, in spite of everything he was putting me through. He must have cared about me more than I had imagined.
I could request a restraining order to keep him away from my house and office. That would lead to a stalking charge. The news media would pick that up. I came up with a third way to deal with him.
My first phone call of the morning was to Marco and his Pit Bulls. I left him a message to stop by the office at his earliest convenience. Just as I ended that call, my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID, but I answered anyway.
“Mary Katz.”
“Mary, it’s Karen Kaminsky. I’m calling to remind you that our hearing before the bar ethics board is this week. I need to sit down with you. We have a lot of work to do to be prepared. Mary, are you there?”
“Yes, Karen. I guess I forgot about the hearing. There’s been a lot going on here. Of course, I’ll be available whenever you need me.”
I had put the ethics hearing out of my mind. I needed the time to be ready for Lillian’s hearing. If I didn’t give Karen the time to help me, I could be out of business.
Karen and I worked long hours preparing our strategy. If I were found in violation, it could affect my ability to make a living. Karen asked me a lot of personal questions about Carlos. When she realized that she knew the Martin family, she asked to meet privately with Carlos. I wasn’t sure what she was plotting, and I was terrified.
The night before the hearing, Carlos insisted on taking me to dinner.
“You’re not eating and you’re not talking,” he said. “Think positive. I’ve been in a lot of scrapes, but the world turns and a new day erases the old. I think that’s an old Spanish saying, but it doesn’t seem to translate very well.”
“Sure it does. You’re used to getting into trouble and bouncing back. I’m used to getting people out of trouble, but this time I can’t see how to get myself out of this.”
“It’ll be okay. Trust me.”
“Oh, Carlos, shut up, before I start blaming you again.”
The hearing before the Florida Bar Ethics Commission was held in the bar’s Miami office boardroom. If the panel of three members were to find a possible violation, then they would hold a full hearing and forward a recommendation to the Supreme Court for punishment. This could be as little as a reprimand, or as big as a suspension or disbarment. This could be the first step in months of litigation and buckets of tears.
When we arrived at the bar’s offices, I was shocked to see Carlos in the waiting area.
“What are you doing here?”
“Karen thought it might be a good idea.” He smiled that heart-melting smile.
“Come on,” Karen said, as she pushed me ahead. “Let me do my thing.”
We entered the boardroom. A male bar counsel and two older panel members, both male, were seated at the table. No feminist friends here, I thought.
“Ms. Katz, you are charged with violation of 6-208 (d) of the Code of Professional Responsibility. This is a serious matter and, might I say, a rather delicate matter, as it has to do with your having sexual relations with a client right in your law office.”
I felt my cheeks burning.
Karen began to speak. “Gentlemen, first let me present this group of letters from a number of bar members attesting to the flawless record of Ms. Katz. Next, I wish to present her record of activities to assist the bar in its various charitable outreach programs, most notably representing poor children who lack family ties and assistance. She has also served as a tutor and mentor for children with learning disabilities.”
“All very nice, counsel, but I don’t care if she’s Mother Teresa. The point is, did she or didn’t she get caught diddling a client?” one of the old guys said.
“I’m getting to that. I know that we are not allowed to know who files the bar complaint against a lawyer. However, we have reason to believe that this complaint came from Ms. Katz’s ex-fiancé, and is made for vengeful reasons. If the saying goes ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,’ doesn’t the same go for the disgruntled rejected male?
“Now we all know,” Karen continued, “that this ethics rule was enacted over the objections of many bar members. Some of you in this room posed the arguments against its passage. You asked what happens if the lawyer is representing his or her spouse. Can they no longer have sexual relations? We all know why the rule was passed. It was because of one criminal defense attorney who was sleeping with his client’s wife. She paid his fees with the idea in mind that her husband would get life in prison and she’d be rid of him. We can all see that is a conflict of interest. The committee that fashioned the rule stated that where there is no conflict of interest possible, there is an
exception to this rule. It is the client who must raise the complaint, because counsel took advantage of him. With that in mind, I am going to call Ms. Katz’s client as a witness. Please, ask Mr. Martin to come in.”
I was flabbergasted. Carlos entered the room. He looked professional in a conservative navy suit and white shirt. He also looked gorgeous.
Carlos was sworn in, and Karen began.
“State your name, please.”
“Carlos Martin.”
“What do you do for a living, sir?”
“I’m the owner of Martin Development Company.”
“Say, young man, is your grandfather Jose Villa-Malado, on the board of the university?” one of the panelists inquired.
“That is correct.”
“Well, I remember you when you were about five years old. You always were building something in his office, with boxes and ashtrays. So you’re a builder now?”
“May I continue, gentlemen?” Karen smiled at the panel.
“Do you know the attorney, Mary Magruder Katz?”
“Yes, of course. She’s my girlfriend. I am in love with her. And she’s my attorney. And the best attorney I’ve ever had. Well, I mean ever hired.”
I heard a few snickers from the panel.
“Now, Mr. Martin, have you been completely satisfied with her work on your behalf? That is, has she ever given you questionable advice or taken advantage of you because of your relationship?”
“Absolutely not. In fact, she tells me when I am wrong and makes sure that all my transactions are beyond reproach. In fact, I have been so impressed with her devotion to her profession, that I have just made a large contribution to the bar’s foundation to aid children.”
“Thank you, Mr. Martin. Does anyone have any questions for this witness?”
“Yes,” said one of the three. “The complainant alluded to some ethical violations related to the transactions Ms. Katz has concluded for you, but there were no specifics. Can you shed any light on this?”
“I’m afraid not. Everyone I deal with makes money. They would hardly be complaining.”
Karen took over. “If there are other allegations, we are unaware of them, and feel these innuendos are prejudicial to Ms. Katz.”
“Counsel, don’t get excited. I think I can speak for the panel when I say that this so-called violation is just a waste of time. It’s clear that a family member can represent another family member. If you ask me these two look like they’re going to become a family. Carlos is a nice boy, and I’m satisfied that this complaint must be dismissed. By the way, how much was that bar donation?”
“One hundred thousand dollars,” Karen answered.
Karen had to prod me out of my chair. I was stunned. We left the room and the building and it wasn’t until we hit the sidewalk that we all high-fived each other.
The last of the Franklin Fieldstone trumped-up litigation was over. I still needed to deal with his stalking before it escalated. Utilizing the courts would look like I was trying to manipulate the system just as Frank did. I hoped my plan of attack would work better than a police action.
I returned to the office to find Marco in the waiting room chatting up Catherine, who looked extremely interested in his every word. Well, he was a macho-type guy and she was single.
“Come on in, Marco. I have a job for you.”
I explained my theory about Frank and why I didn’t want the police involved.
“I know that Frank is a total wimp. He’s terrified of physical confrontation when he might be the one getting hurt. Suppose that you or a couple of your Pit Bulls hang around and catch him in stalking mode. Maybe a little roughness would go a long way.”
“You mean beat him up?” Marco looked surprised. “And how do you know he’ll strike again?”
“Oh, I know he will. As soon as he finds out that I beat the ethics charges that he filed against me. He lost that one and his lawsuit against me. He can’t stand to be beaten in court. I don’t mean really beat him up. Just scare him a little. Like bend his left arm so he can’t hoist his golf club. Maybe give him a black eye so he looks bad at the office.”
“Okay, Mary, we’ll do it. I can’t say we haven’t done similar in some divorce cases. A little threat goes a long way toward settlement. It works better than mediation.”
“And one other thing, Marco. Don’t tell Carlos about any of this. His Latin temper might cause him to try to remedy the situation in an inappropriate fashion.”
“Oh, yeah. Carlos knows how to be inappropriate.” Marco chuckled. “Hey, does Catherine have a boyfriend?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lillian’s hearing was scheduled for the following Monday afternoon. I was far from ready. The next four days would be 24–7 devoted to Lillian. I called Carlos and thanked him for saving my skin at the ethics hearing. I explained I would be working all week and weekend. He wasn’t pleased, but he said he’d use the time to catch up on his own work.
“When you get through with her hearing, let’s have a weekend away at the beach,” he said.
“That sounds so good. I wish it were tomorrow,” I said. “Dammit, now I can’t concentrate.”
The first person I needed to interview was Cassie Kahn, Lillian’s neighbor, who had been mentioned in the police report. I enlarged the photos on my computer that Catherine took of Maddie, and set out for Bayshore Drive. I wanted to catch Cassie off guard, so I determined I would watch her house if she wasn’t home. It’s always better to catch a witness before they have time to plan their testimony. Once she talked to me, she couldn’t change her story without blowing her credibility.
I rang the bell and was greeted by a tiny Guatemalan maid in full uniform.
“The Mrs. is outside. She love the sun.”
She motioned for me to follow her. The pool and patio were actually on the side of the house. I wondered how Cassie could have seen so much from her backyard. Now I saw her clear view of the Yarmouth house and of the street, broken only by a few well-trimmed ixora bushes.
“Mrs., a lady to see you,” the maid said.
Cassie got up from her chaise. She was wearing a very brief bikini. She was older than she appeared from across the lawn. She had a sculpted body that can only come from personal workouts at the gym. She wrapped a terry cover-up over the bikini, and glared at the maid.
“If you’re selling something, I’m not buying,” she barked at me. I was reminded of Sam’s snarl at strangers who entered our yard.
“No, I’m not a salesperson.” I handed her my card. “I represent your neighbor, Lillian Yarmouth. May I take a few minutes of your time to ask you about what you saw the day Gary died?”
“Oh, okay, I guess. Come on, we’ll go in the house.” She led the way through a side door into a library. “My husband loves to read,” she said waving her hand at the bookshelves.
I noticed several legal volumes. “Is your husband Jay Kahn? He works in the same firm as my brother, William.”
“Yes, of course. Well, it’s a small world, I always say. What can I do for you?”
“Would you mind if I turn on my tape recorder? It’s easier than taking notes.”
“Well, okay. The police officer who talked to me the day of the murder said I might be a witness, but you’re the first one I’ve heard from since then. Maybe it’ll be good to go over everything.”
“I may need to subpoena you for a hearing,” I said. I pulled the photos from my briefcase, but I kept them turned over. Cassie looked curiously at the backs of the pictures.
“This is just like Law and Order. I mean it’s kind of exciting, being a witness. Do you think my picture will be in the paper? What do you think I should wear?”
“It’s possible that the papers will cover the hearing, but you should wear whatever you feel comfortable wearing,” I said. Cassie was ready to collect her fifteen minutes of fame.
“Now, let’s go back to the day Gary died. Tell me what you remember of that afternoon. Even if you remember a
small detail, it might be important, so don’t hesitate to tell me everything you can think of about that day.”
“Well, I saw Lillian that morning. She was watering her garden. You know she has a real green thumb. I called over to her to tell her how pretty everything looked, and she said she was glad because her kids were coming home for the long weekend. I told her Jay and I were giving a cocktail party that Sunday night and I told her they should all drop by. You know we always entertain a couple of the artists from the Grove Art Show.”
“Okay, did you see Lillian any more that day?”
“That afternoon, I was sitting by the pool, just like I was today when you got here. I saw Lillian’s car drive into the garage. It looked great, like she just got it washed or polished or something. She waved, and I waved back.”
“Did you see her get out of the car?”
“No, I can’t really see all the way into their garage, and she put the door down.”
“Do you know what time it was when she drove in?”
“I know exactly, because I was waiting for a call from the caterer, for the party, you know, and she was supposed to call me at two thirty. She hadn’t called and I looked at my Rolex. It said three exactly. That was right after I saw Lillian drive in.”
“What else did you see?”
“Well, right after I looked at my watch, I started to get up to go in the house, and I saw this woman running down the street.”
“What did she look like?”
“I didn’t get a good look at her, just the side of her face, but she had this amazing hair. It was sort of blondish red. But the real reason I noticed her was that she stopped right near my yard and took off her shoes. They were those platform straw sandals. I guess she couldn’t move too fast in them, so she picked them up and raced down the street towards the Hernandez’s house. They’re my neighbors on the other side.”
“Did you see her do anything else?”
“She ran to a red 380 BMW and got in and revved the motor. I saw that car over there earlier and I wondered about it because Marlena and her husband were away in the Bahamas on their boat. I thought maybe they had someone doing some work on their house, but, trust me, this girl was no carpenter or maid.”
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