When I Saw You

by Laura Branchflower

  “Sit down.” Joseph leaned back in his chair. “I think your blackmail theory was right.”

  “I thought you said the clients would never come back if they were being blackmailed?”

  “Right—I think he was blackmailing very specific clients. And I’m sure once they were blackmailed, these clients didn’t come back.” He linked his hands behind his head as he met Malone’s eyes. “None of this has to do with marketing. Someone who is already worth millions of dollars—hell, I know he’s worth that in art alone—someone worth millions isn’t going to risk their entire reputation, or freedom for that matter, by prostituting his female employees to increase his sales numbers. It never made sense.”

  “I agree. Blackmail makes more sense.”

  “I read something interesting online last night,” Joseph continued. “The Mafia used to own a lot of movie theaters because it was a cash business, and the number of movie tickets sold couldn’t be verified. This was back before computers. They would claim to sell three, four, even five times more tickets than they actually did and launder their illegal cash through the theater.”

  Malone nodded, a slight smile coming to his face. “And a food truck is like a movie theater. A mostly cash business, with no real proof about how much food is being sold.”

  “Exactly,” Joseph said. “Stan Hall is probably blackmailing clients and funneling money through his brother’s business.”

  Malone stood up and began to pace back and forth in front of the desk. “I’m going to need to put a tail on Rodriguez again—and probably get into his house, if you want proof.”

  “Whatever it takes. Hire as many people as you need. I want you to find the proof. Just don’t get caught.”

  After Malone left his office, Joseph’s eyes focused on his small desk calendar. It was April twenty-ninth. He reached into side drawer, took out a Fortune magazine and looked at the cover. A picture of Richard Eastman was looking back at him. He smiled and tapped it lightly on his desk.

  Sorry I’m late,” Joseph said as he entered Tony’s office a few minutes later. He shook hands with the potential clients and within minutes was running the meeting. An hour later, as the elevator doors closed on the clients, he turned to Tony and Kevin. “They were sold. They’ll be calling by tomorrow morning.”

  “If they do, it’s no thanks to you.” Kevin glared at him. “I’m tired of my schedule having to adapt to yours! You seem to think this entire firm revolves around you.”

  “I don’t have the time or energy for you right now. I have hours of work left before I can call it a night, and I’m not going to waste any of them on you.” He turned to walk off.

  “You’re a senior partner in this firm and you’re notoriously late for meetings, some that you’re supposed to run. I’m tired of covering for you.”

  “Then don’t.” Joseph turned back to him. “Don’t cover for me. It’s funny that you’re the only one who ever complains about me, Kevin. I don’t hear my clients complaining, and that’s what’s ultimately important, isn’t it?”

  “No. What’s ultimately important is the reputation of this firm, and you’ve jeopardized it more than once with your frat-boy behavior.”

  “Fuck you! You are such a Goddamn hypocrite. You have no problem taking your share of the money I bring in to this firm, so don’t start with that holier-than-thou attitude. I’ve had about as much of your shit as I’m willing to take. And I don’t need it! I work my ass off and bring in a hell of a lot of money and business, and you’d better start remembering that and start treating me with some respect!”

  “Respect?” Kevin sneered. “That would take an Oscar-winning performance, and—”

  “Enough!” Tony’s eyes flew between them.

  “Then tell him to get off my back!” Joseph yelled.

  “Let’s take this into my office,” Tony bit out. “I think we’ve given everyone enough to gossip about for one day.”

  Moments later, Tony slammed the door to his office and turned angrily on his partners. “This has got to stop,” he said, his eyes darting from Joseph to Kevin. “I am so fucking tired of listening to the bickering between the two of you. I have more important things to do than play the mediator to my partners. If you can’t figure out how to make this work then we’re going to have to figure out how to dissolve this partnership, because it’s gotten to the point where it’s starting to affect the professionalism of this office. For years I was the only one who knew the two of you couldn’t stand each other. Now every person at this firm knows, and they’re starting to talk.”

  18

  Two weeks later, associates of Sam Malone broke into the house of Marcos Rodriguez. Surveillance had revealed Rodriguez worked out at a nearby gym for an hour and a half at the same time five days a week. It took exactly seven minutes to locate a box of thumb drives, which was in a storage area off the basement, and a laptop computer, which was in an upstairs bedroom.

  At the exact same time, eleven miles away, another associate was driving a dark van with the logo of a major computer manufacturer into the driveway of Stan Hall’s house. Surveillance had revealed Mrs. Hall took her daughter to a biweekly gymnastics class, leaving a ten-year-old boy alone in the house for a brief time after school. “Yeah?” The young boy opened the front door of the house in response to the doorbell.

  “Is this the Hall residence?” A man with a computer company logo on the breast of his shirt stood on the porch.

  The boy nodded. “Yes.”

  The man looked down at the clipboard in his hand. “I have a work order on Mr. Hall’s computer, if you can show me where it is.”

  The boy stood back to let him enter before leading him to his father’s study. “It’s right on his desk.”

  Thirty minutes later, the man left the house with copies of hundreds of files.

  “Finally.” Lia was curled up beneath a blanket on the couch in Joseph’s family room when he arrived home after midnight the following Friday.

  “I’m sorry.” He loosened his tie as he lowered himself onto the couch beside her feet. “Did you eat?”

  “It’s almost twelve thirty in the morning. I ordered pizza hours ago. It’s in the refrigerator if you want some.”

  “In a minute. There’s something I need to tell you, and I think it’ll probably come as quite a shock.”

  “Does this have to do with where you were tonight?” She pushed back the blanket and sat up beside him.

  “Yes. I was meeting with a private detective about Zurtech.”

  “And?” she prompted, her heart rate accelerating.

  “And Stan Hall has been running a blackmail scheme. He was recording the sex and blackmailing the CEOs of some fairly large corporations.”

  “Oh my God.” Lia brought a hand up to cover her mouth. “Eric was being blackmailed?”

  “No.” Joseph shook his head. “Hall was blackmailing specific clients—clients meeting a defined profile. They were married with children and had stellar reputations. He was blackmailing clients who had everything to lose and could easily afford to pay.”

  “How do you know? I mean, how did he find out?”

  “I’m not sure exactly how my detective got the information, but I have copies of the blackmail letters with the names and addresses of the men being blackmailed, the amount of money demanded and the PO boxes where the payment was to be sent, which changed with each letter. I also have hundreds of videos that have been made over the past few years.”

  “He’s disgusting. He was using those women so he could blackmail clients? It didn’t have anything to do with the sales? I mean, that wasn’t what was motivating him?”

  “No. That was a bonus. If he received the money he asked for over the last three years, which is as far back as the letters go, he collected over twenty-six million dollars.”

  “Twenty-six million dollars,” she repeated. She couldn’t believe it.

  “He blackmailed five men. It started with Alan West—a family man who preache
s family values. I think those detailed client files were used by Hall to decide who had the most to lose.”

  Lia combed her fingers back through her hair, trying to absorb the information. “So where were you all this time, at the police station?”

  “No. I was going through the evidence.”

  “When are you going to the police, tomorrow?”

  “I’m not taking the information to the police. I don’t want my name or your name associated with this case.”

  “How can they not be? We were involved. You have the evidence.”

  “That’s right. I do. And I’m not taking it to the police.”

  “Then I’m confused. What was the whole purpose of uncovering this information if it wasn’t to go to the police? If you don’t want our names associated, what are you going to do with the information?”

  “I’m going to send my evidence to the Washington Post.”

  “The Washington Post? Why?”

  “So I can expose Hall and Zurtech for what they made you and countless other women endure. I want him to turn on the television or go online and see himself as headline news. In that brief moment, he’ll know he’s been destroyed.”

  “But wouldn’t going to the police do the same thing? I mean, wouldn’t it end up in the paper anyway?”

  “Eventually, but then we’d be involved and they’d want to know where we got the information, and they’d want to talk to you. I don’t want you to have to go through any of that.”

  “But aren’t I part of the proof? My story?”

  “I don’t need it. All I need to provide are the videos, blackmail letters, client files and some emails from Claudia. I have proof that he’s been using female employees from Zurtech in a sexual blackmail scheme. That’s enough. The police will easily be able to unravel the rest.” He came to his feet. “I’m going to heat up the pizza and then we’ll talk some more.”

  “But what about Eric?” She gripped his hand. “Why did Stan let him get off scot-free? I mean, why would he do that?”

  “So he’d spread the word. It’s common knowledge Zurtech provides this…this—”

  “Service?” She felt sick. “You’re telling me that people know this is going on and no one has done anything to stop it?”

  “It’s considered one of the perks of doing business with Hall. And considering ninety percent aren’t being blackmailed, no one’s complaining.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “It is, but don’t worry,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “When this story breaks, Hall isn’t the only one who’s going to be exposed.”

  Joseph met with Sam Malone the following Thursday evening to finalize the contents of the package that would be delivered to Richard Haze, a Pulitzer Prize–winning investigative journalist on staff at the Post, after 4:00 p.m. Friday.

  After a morning meeting on Friday, he closed himself in his office with strict instructions to his secretary not to let him be disturbed.

  At 2:15 p.m., Kevin Stuart, who moments earlier assured the secretary he could indeed disturb her boss, strolled into his office. “Did you get my email this morning? The Media Group needs to meet with you in twenty minutes,” Kevin said, referring to one of their clients.

  Joseph didn’t look up from his computer. “I’m not meeting with anyone today. I sent an email out Monday morning saying I wouldn’t be available for anything after noon today.”

  “Something’s come up they need to discuss with you today.” Kevin approached the side of his desk. “What in the hell?” He squinted at the computer screen. “You’re playing with your stock portfolio.”

  “That’s right.” Joseph minimized the window. “If you’re having the meeting without me, that’s fine. But it’s your choice—I gave you plenty of notice that I would be unable to attend.”

  “And this is why?” Kevin gestured towards the computer. “So you can fool with the stock market?”

  “Go away.”

  “You’re a Goddamn partner. What kind of example do you think you’re setting for the associates when you’d rather play around with your stocks than attend meetings?”

  “I don’t care what you or anyone else at this firm thinks about me. I told you four days ago I wasn’t available this afternoon. If you scheduled a meeting, that’s your problem.” He lifted his eyes. “Now please. I am busy. I’d appreciate if you would leave.”

  “You’re unbelievable!”

  Five minutes later, a light knock preceded Tony’s entrance. Joseph lifted his gaze, cursing softly under his breath. “Is Sonya out there?” he asked, referring to his secretary.

  “Yes, and she told me you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “That’s right,” Joseph said shortly. “I am working on a deadline here. I sent an email Monday telling everyone I wouldn’t be available after noon today. And I don’t have time for this right now.”

  “Deadline for what? What case are you working on?” Tony lowered himself into one of the chairs in front of Joseph’s desk.

  “You know what I’m working on. I’m sure Kevin ran to your office as soon as he left mine.”

  “So you’re working on your stock portfolio.”

  “Yes.” Joseph gave an exaggerated nod. “I’m working on my stocks, and yes,” he continued, holding up a hand before Tony could say more, “they are more important than any client, so I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone.” He dropped his gaze back to his computer. “Come back when the market closes and I’ll be happy to talk to you then.”

  “So, what? Now you’d rather be a stock broker than a lawyer?”

  “At this moment, yes. At four, no.” Joseph met his friend’s eyes. “This is important, Tony. I’m working with some serious money and I can’t afford to be distracted.”

  Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “Funny you should choose the word distracted because that’s what you seem to be. This case is worth a lot of money to this firm. And you seem to be putting your personal finances in front of the finances of this firm.”

  “Are they worth fifty million dollars to us?” Joseph asked with an intensity usually reserved for the courtroom. “Because that’s the amount of money I’m playing with right here.” He gestured with a thumb towards his computer.

  “You think you’re going to make fifty million dollars on the stock market today?” Tony asked. “Are you listening to yourself?”

  “Yes, I am listening to myself, but apparently no one else is. I am not playing here. I am working with fifty million, fifty million real dollars, fifty million of my own money.” He put his hands on his desk and pushed himself up. “And I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to screw up what I’m working with, so please let me finish what I’m doing!”

  Tony stared at him. “You have fifty million dollars in the stock market?”

  “No. I have about five hundred million dollars in the stock market. And if you leave me alone like I’m asking, I think I can make a lot more.”

  Tony continued to stare at him, his expression unreadable.

  “Now will you leave me alone?” Joseph asked. “You can ask me anything you want at four.”

  “Well?” Kevin asked as soon as Tony closed the door to Joseph’s office. “They’ll be here in ten minutes. Is he coming out?”

  Tony shook his head. “No. Collins is going to have to handle it himself,” he said, naming the junior partner working with Joseph on the case. “Just tell them Joseph can’t make it.”

  “Because he’s playing around with his fucking stock portfolio?” Kevin whispered as he followed Tony down the hall towards his office. “He’s not going to meet with one of our most important clients because he’s too busy trading stocks?”

  “Apparently.” Tony walked into his office.

  “And you don’t have a problem with this?”

  “I don’t think it really matters whether or not I have a problem.” He sat down behind his desk. “He’s an equal partner in this firm. This is his client we’re t
alking about. And he says he’s too busy to meet with him.”

  “But he’s not even working! Not on a case.”

  “Look. I don’t want to argue with you. I agree with you, but Joe has a point. He sent us an email Monday saying he wouldn’t be available. If he wasn’t in the office, you would have just told Collins to take the case.”

  “But he is here. He’s sitting at his desk.”

  “Joe bills more hours than either of us. I really don’t think we’re in a position here to say much.”

  “No.” Kevin shook his head as he began to pace back and forth in front of Tony’s desk. “He used to bill more than either of us. For the past few months he’s been behind, and it’s not because we’re suddenly billing more hours.”

  Tony frowned. “I guess that’s a result of Lia. He—”

  “This has nothing to do with Lia. He’s still here sixteen hours a day. He’s just more interested in his other investments than the health of this firm.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Tony held up his hands. “So he isn’t billing as many hours. He still works a hell of a lot and brings in clients, and he’s still the best trial attorney I’ve ever seen.”

  “He’s changing, Tony. He doesn’t put the needs of this firm first anymore.”

  “So what’s your point? You want to dissolve the partnership?”

  “I don’t know.” Kevin stopped pacing. “He isn’t a hundred percent anymore. I do not like the idea of dissolving this partnership, but I want him to shape up. He isn’t putting this firm before his personal life. I don’t want him to blow off meetings, or come late to meetings, or leave meetings because Sam Malone or Lia or his Goddamn partner from one of his companies calls.”

  “He doesn’t need to work eighty hours a week anymore. You want him to act like he did when we were starting up, and I don’t see that happening.”

  “So, what? You’re not going to say anything to him? You’re just going to let this continue?”

  “That’s right. And be honest, Kevin. No one’s complaining—not one client. I’d advise you to stop pushing him unless you want his name off the placard in the lobby.”