by Joe Pulizzi
We met back up at the casket and held hands. “We switched the suit, as requested. Does this work for you?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Sam. I’ll tell her thanks later.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that, but she was fine doing it,” I said, lying a bit.
“Okay, boss,” Denise said. “What’s the rundown?”
We moved to the right of the casket, about ten feet from the kneeler. I placed Denise closest to Dad, and I stood to her left. “I think I want you last. That way if I can’t remember someone’s name you can whisper it to me like in The Devil Wears Prada. I don’t have your memory.” I turned to face her. “If Jess wants to stand in line, she’ll be on my left. Do you have any thoughts about Sam?”
“I think you should tell Sam that Dad would probably want her in the lineup,” Denise said.
“Okay, I will. Janet said there’d be some early lunch in the kitchen. I just had a big breakfast, but you should probably eat now. God knows if we’ll get a chance when people start coming.”
Denise and I hugged again, this time a bit longer, and she headed to the kitchen.
I turned and saw Jack walking toward me.
“Son, someone is here to see you. I told them the situation here but he was very persistent.”
“Did he give a name?”
“He just said Roger from the other night. That you would know.”
“All right. Thanks. Jack, would you please do one final check of the visitation room before we open the doors, and I’ll go meet with Roger?”
“Yessir,” Jack said, saluting me.
I walked to the front outside the visitation room entrance, but no one was there. Then I went to check outside. Roger was standing to the side by the outdoor ashtray that looked like a giant landscaping light.
“Hi, Roger,” I said as he exhaled smoke.
“Hey, Will ... I’m sorry to come here, but I didn’t want to call and didn’t want to bother you during your visitation. I caught the obit in the paper and put two and two together pretty easily. Sorry about your father. How’s everything going by the way?”
“As well as could be expected. Judging by all the flower arrangements in there, we should get quite a gathering of folks to see my dad.” I paused. Meeting with fellow GA’ers outside of meetings was always weird. Almost like getting caught cheating on your wife. Generally, it happens by accident. At the grocery store or at a bar. Going to see a fellow gambler without a call is generally inappropriate. “What can I do for you, Roger?”
“You know how we were chatting about the life settlements. I was curious after our conversation, so I wanted to make sure I didn’t tell you anything to mislead you. Anyway, I have a buddy that tracks life insurance packages in the county. If they get sold, like in life settlements, there’s a public record of it. You can basically see everyone who has a policy out, who’s buying the policies, and all that.”
Roger put out his cigarette, pulled out another one, and lit it. He offered me one. I declined.
“So I asked my buddy for the stats from Erie County. No big deal, I ask him for stuff all the time for my insurance business. He gave me the numbers from the last ten years. If you look at year ten, and then nine and then eight, you see ten and fifteen percent growth year-to-year in companies buying life insurance policies, a.k.a. life settlements. Then starting about seven years ago, it goes batshit crazy. Like fifty to seventy-five percent up. Tell me, that gentleman you were asking about most recently, was he a minority?”
“Uh, yes, actually. He was a large black man,” I said.
“Figures. Now I don’t know what it’s like in other counties in other states, but in Erie County, about five in ten life insurance policies are bought by the big boys from minorities—blacks, Indians—dots, not feathers—Asians, Hispanics—all kinds. There’s not all that many minorities to begin with in this area, so it’s extremely unlikely that this is just chance.”
“Odd,” I said, “But why did you want me to know about this?”
“You seem like a nice guy. You probably got willed the funeral home from your father, right? Uh, no need to answer. You’re a part of the circle of life here, from insurance to death to burial, and if I was in your position, I would want to know.”
With that, Roger put out his smoke, walked to his car, and drove away.
Chapter 16 – The Conspiracy
As I walked back inside, my head was swirling, and with the visitation about to start, I couldn’t get five minutes to think about any of it. Dad’s business goes to hell last year, which was also the same time he started acting like a jerk to people. Now those two things could be tied together. But why would he want me to take over his business? I could understand if I didn’t have anything better to do. Why didn’t he sell it years ago before he sold all his personal assets to save a failing business? Sure, he was doing a great service for families, but was it all worth it? It must have been to him.
I did the calculations again in my head. The most the funeral home was worth, on paper, was about four hundred thousand dollars. Mostly real estate value. Yet Alex Traynor was willing to offer me double that to go back to Cleveland. It was almost too good of an offer. Almost like he knew the exact amount I needed to say yes. Only an idiot would say no to that. Alex knew I was a lot of things, but he wouldn’t take me for an idiot. Desperate, yes, but not an idiot.
Now today with the blotches on my dad’s legs and back. The coroner’s results would have shown something for blotching like that to appear. It had to be more than just a heart attack. If that was true, then maybe the circumstances behind my father’s death were different than they appeared to be. Maybe Denise was right.
And Jack’s comments about Dad and Uncle Dan being on the outs. But if Dad and Dan weren’t getting along, why did Dan have all Dad’s information? Why did Dad share his final will and testament with Uncle Dan when he could have easily chosen someone else?
And then Roger came out of nowhere to tell me about some conspiracy where they—whoever they are—were buying life insurance policies from minorities in increasingly higher numbers every year. This was something I’d need to confirm, because if it was actually true, it was hard to imagine the evil lurking behind that strategy.
It was forty-five minutes to start time, which meant people would begin showing up any second. I walked into Dad’s office and sat back in his swivel chair. I took one of his notebooks, tore out a sheet, then proceeded to scratch out some of my thinking on the last few days in Sandusky. I folded the sheet and placed it in my back pocket. Then I leaned back and closed my eyes.
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I said.
Denise walked in with a small plate of food—a turkey sandwich and some pasta salad.
“Before you tell me you’re not hungry, just save your words, and I’ll watch you eat this,” she said. “It’s probably the last bit of food before you drink vodka tonight.”
She pulled up a chair and watched me eat the sandwich in silence. Jack peeked his head in the doorway. “Better get moving. Cars are parking as we speak.”
I pulled out my phone and texted Jess. Hey, Jess. People are coming for visitation now, so be here as soon as you can.
I took a large bite of the turkey sandwich and left the plate on Dad’s desk. Denise and I walked out of the office and into the visitation area, heading to our spots. And there was Jess, kneeling in front of my father. I stood there watching her. She made the sign of the cross, stood, and placed her hand on my dad’s. Then she turned around and saw me, her eyes already wet with tears. She took two quick steps and gave me a hug I haven’t felt from her in years.
“I’m so sorry, Dad,” she said.
“Me too, honey. Me too,” I whispered in her ear. I pulled away. “And I’m sorry I texted you. I should have known you would already be here.”
She pulled the phone out of her purse, saw my message, then turned her phone on airplane mode. “I haven’t really don
e this before, Dad. I didn’t do this when Grandma passed.”
“No problem. It’s super easy. You’ll be standing to my left the entire night. When someone comes up to you that you don’t know or can’t remember their name, just say, ‘Hi. Thanks for coming. I’m Abe’s granddaughter.’ And that’s it. Did you get something to eat?”
“I had something an hour ago,” she said.
“When you can a bit later, sneak out of line and grab some food in the private kitchen area. Then you can come back.”
I turned to Denise. “Denise, before we start this thing, let’s take a moment.” I gathered the three of us and we walked up to Dad’s casket. I turned my head over my shoulder, “Hey, Jack, can you just give us a minute?” Jack nodded and held guard outside the door.
I grabbed Denise’s hand with my left and Jess’s hand with my right. From the back, I heard someone else coming and turned. It was Sam. “Oh, good, Sam. Can you come up here, please?” Sam came up to the casket and took Jess’s other hand.
Without having to say anything, we all bowed our heads in unison. “Dad, what is there to say? We love you, and we are going to miss you very much. You were a good and decent man. One of the best this city has ever seen. They were lucky to have you. I wish we could have a few more moments to see you in action, especially holding court at a party or a restaurant. Everyone loved you, Dad. Please give Mom a big hug for us. I’m glad to know that you two are together again. Thanks for everything, Pop.”
We stood there for a second, and then Jess looked over at me and kissed my cheek. “Good speech, Dad.”
“Thanks, honey. Okay, let’s get this started.” Jack peeked in the doorway and nodded. Two seconds later, the line was coming toward Jess. Sam was walking away. “Sam,” I said. “Dad would have wanted you in the line with us.”
“Maybe in a little bit. Right now, I’ll just make sure Jack has everything under control.”
I pulled her to the side. “Trip went okay?”
“Yes,” she said. “Should have something back tomorrow.”
For the next six hours, half the city showed up to pay their respects to my father. Of course, Uncle Dan was there. He stayed a few hours. The entire Sandusky Alliance team showed up, trading stories in the back. John and Alex Traynor stopped by, which was a bit awkward, but I respected them for it. About twenty of my high school graduating class showed up. Even my old college roommate, Alan, who worked at the FBI in Cleveland was there. Xena came too. She asked me out again, you know, to talk about her restaurant.
Robby showed up about an hour before visitation was over. He drove to Toledo during the day to see one of our clients, which I was eternally grateful for. We needed to keep that account. Since I’d been off the grid, Robby was dutifully holding down the business.
As the final group left out the front door, Jess said goodbye, leaving with Tracy and Zoe. We agreed to meet back here tomorrow at eight a.m., plenty of time before we left for the church at nine-thirty.
Robby was waiting for me to wrap things up. He knew I needed a drink. I gave Denise a hug and we said our goodbyes, then I spotted Sam running out the door.
“Sam,” I said. “Robby and I are grabbing a drink. Can you join us?”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
I put my hands on my hips and gave her a look. She almost smiled. “I learned some things today and I need to get your take. Just one drink?”
“Okay, where?”
“Jerold’s down the street.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Great.”
I gave Robby quick directions, and we both got in our cars and headed to Jerold’s. As I pulled in the parking lot, I noticed the sign out front hadn’t changed since I was a kid. The bar was an institution in Sandusky and used to be known for freely letting in minors. I went to Jerold’s more times before I turned twenty-one than after.
The bar was half full with several people who came straight from Dad’s visitation. I waved and headed in the other direction. Sam was at a corner table.
“Hard to escape,” she said.
“This is the closest bar to the funeral home. We probably should have had a few drinks using Dad’s casket as a table. He’d have appreciated that.”
Robby came in and sat in one of the two open chairs. “It’s too bright in here. Did Sandusky put a ban on black people?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Let me ask you this. How many black people did you see at Warrior Princess’s restaurant?”
“I don’t recall any,” I said.
“Of course you don’t. Because there weren’t any. How many brothers did you get at your visitation?”
“Hmmm ... there was Mr. Williams that owns the flower store. And Ray Jones that used to drive the hearse for Dad. A couple ministers that I didn’t know. Did I miss any, Sam?” She shook her head.
“Okay,” Robby said. “How many black people do you see right now?”
I looked around. “I don’t see any, but it’s so hard to tell these days,” I said, smiling.
“You ass—it’s a big zero. Sandusky has to be the brightest town in America.”
“I think it’s just coincidence,” Sam said.
“I’ll tell you what,” Robby said. “If you two walked into a bar or a restaurant, or went to a visitation, and saw only four white people, you’d surely notice it and wouldn’t be talking about any coincidences. I need a drink.”
Robby turned around and waved to the waitress. “See? She’s white too,” Robby said, smiling.
The waitress took our drink orders. Vodka tonics for Sam and me. Double Jack for Robby.
“Sam, do you mind telling Robby what we found today?” I said. She looked at me like I was crazy. “It’s okay; Robby will be the only other one to know.”
“Know what?” Robby asked.
“Okay, but this is it. Only the three of us will know, and no one says anything to anyone,” Sam said, looking straight at me.
“Okay, okay,” I said.
Sam relayed the information about Dad’s blotching.
“What are you thinking?” Robby asked Sam.
“Jim McGinty is Erie County coroner. That’s Dan’s nephew. He did the autopsy and called it a simple heart attack. I know he ran tissue samples, because Abe came to us without many of his internal organs left. It’s just odd.”
“You think there’s some hanky-panky going on?”
“I don’t know, but Abe never liked McGinty and always questioned his findings. Well, at least since I’ve been at Pollitt.”
Listening to the conversation, I realized how much I missed watching Sam talk. She got these little creases in her forehead when she was passionate about something, and they were in full force when she was explaining things to Robby.
The waitress brought our drinks over. I raised my glass, and Sam and Robby followed. “To Abe. A good man and a good father. You’ll be missed.” We clinked glasses.
“You’ll never believe this,” I said. “Roger, the insurance guy I met at GA. He showed up today and said he did some research on life settlements in Erie County. Apparently, about half of all the insurance policies in this county are bought from minorities.”
“What does that mean?” Sam asked.
“It’s either a huge coincidence or the insurance agents in this area are targeting minorities at an incredibly high rate, trying to get them to sell their five-hundred-K and million-dollar-plus policies. He thinks there’s some conspiracy going on, and as a funeral director and a human being, I should look into it.”
“You mean a conspiracy how there are no black people in this county either?” Robby said.
I pulled out the sheet of Dad’s notebook paper from my rear pocket. “You want to talk conspiracy. Well if you really want to get crazy, I have one for you,” I said, rubbing the creases out of the paper. “All right. My brain is worthless right now, but here’s what I’ve put together. First, Sam you attested to this, and so did
Janet and Jack. Sometime last year, my father turned into an irritable prick. Second, this happened at the same time that the business really tanked. Both Sam and the financial numbers from Uncle Dan confirm that. And third, sometime around then, although we don’t know exactly when or why, Dan and Abe had a falling-out.”
“I didn’t know that,” Sam said.
“Me either,” I said. “Jack mentioned it today at breakfast. Besides this week, have you seen Dan around much?”
“Now that you mention it...” Sam said.
I swallowed the rest of the vodka tonic and waved at the waitress for another round.
“Fourth, my father didn’t trust the coroner, who happens to be Uncle Dan’s nephew. Dad didn’t trust him so much that he started to create backup tissue samples from Pollitt customers. So either Dad was going crazy, which is always a possibility, or he knew something.”
“What the heck, man?” Robby said.
“Right?” I said. “And now we have this life settlement insurance thing, which may not be related at all. Dad did have the words life insurance on a notepad at home. I checked with Uncle Dan, who said that Dad cashed out his policy a while ago to pay down debt. But then if Uncle Dan and Dad had a falling-out, he probably wouldn’t know what it means anyway. Related or not, GA Roger thinks there’s some local conspiracy going on. And Robby, now your comment about your uncle has me thinking.”
“What’s that?” Robby said.
“You said your uncle’s buddies were dropping the insurance they sold to get into the life settlement business, right?” I asked.
“Correct.”
“And then you said the part about how they sign these people up and wait for them to die. Well, what if they get tired of waiting?”
“I know where you’re going with this, Will,” Sam said. “That’s lunacy.”