Foreclosure: A Novel (32 page)

“Now, Mr. Vasquez asked you to keep a phrase in mind. I believe it was
looks can be deceiving
. That’s a good one, and probably one I’d like to talk to you about more in a few days after you hear the evidence. But I’m going to ask you to keep one in mind, too. As you listen to the evidence, I want you to say, ‘show me the arson.’ Show me the arson! That’s what you should be saying to yourselves throughout this trial. Show me the arson. You know what? They can’t do it.” He pointed at Vasquez’s table. “It’s that simple. They can’t do it. Don’t fall for their lies. They are a dishonest insurance company who hopes you will be confused by their words. A snake in the grass!”

Vasquez stood at the insinuation. David felt the heat from Judge Cox, so he quickly concluded. “Thank you.” He rushed to his seat and glanced at Frank, who looked to be sleeping with his eyes open.

“Remember what I said,” David whispered to him. “Try to act interested.”

“We got nothing to worry about,” Frank said.

David shook his head while Judge Cox addressed the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes opening statements. I’m going to address some things with the lawyers and give you the afternoon off. We’ll begin with the evidence in the morning. Thank you.”

“All rise!” yelled the bailiff.

David watched the jurors stand and one by one leave the courtroom. He wished they would take their time. He wished he could go with them—because he knew what was coming now. After the door closed behind the jurors, the bailiff told the litigants to be seated.

Everyone in the courtroom sat but David.

Judge Cox sighed. “Mr. Friedman, let this be your last warning. You pull another stunt like that, I’ll hold you in contempt, and I won’t hesitate to declare a mistrial. And I assure you, you and your firm will be paying the fees for this one. Do you understand me?”

“I do,” was all he could muster.

“Anything else I need to address before tomorrow?” the judge asked.

“No, Judge,” Vasquez said.

Judge Cox didn’t wait for David’s response. As soon as Cox was gone, David turned to Frank. “I really need you to take this seriously.”

“I am taking this seriously. Trust me. We’re going to be fine.”

“We’re not if you’re not ready to testify.”

“You’re giving me a headache,” Frank said.

David glanced around the courtroom. “You can smoke as soon as we’re done. Just give me an hour.”

“For crying out loud, we’ve been going over this for three hours.” Frank rubbed his temples and glanced at the clock on the wall in the Alderman Room. “What difference does it make who our investors are? How is Xerxes Capital possibly relevant?”

“The handling of the escrow monies is relevant to the insurance claim. If you lied about them, the jury can rule in Continental’s favor and void the policy.” David glanced at the clock, too. It was past nine already, and he felt like he was spinning his wheels with Frank.

There was a knock on the door. It swung open before David could answer.

“Am I interrupting?” Terry peeked in through the doorway.

“Come on in,” David said.

Terry introduced himself to Frank and shook his hand. “Sorry we haven’t met before.”

Frank yawned. “I’m trying to get out of here, but Perry Mason here won’t let me go.”

Terry grinned at David. “You were great today, kid. ‘Show me the arson!’ The jury was eating that up.”

“Were they?” David glanced at Frank, hoping he would agree.

“Absolutely,” Terry said. He turned to Frank. “You’re in good hands with this guy.”

Frank frowned and closed his eyes.

“We’re just wrapping up for tomorrow,” David said.

Terry nodded. “Stop by and see me before you leave.”

“Sure thing.” David waited for Terry to duck out. Then he turned to Frank. “You’re sure we’ve got the bases covered with the escrows?”

Frank slammed his hand on the table. “You and the damn escrow records! I’d like to make you eat them.”

“I would if I knew I had the real ones.”

“What does it matter?” Frank said. “I know right where the documents are. And I can assure you, we’d find ourselves a few miles off the continental shelf if we were to produce them.”

“Where are they?”

“Closer than you think. But out of sight, out of mind.”

“That never worked for me, Frank. Out of sight, I go out of my mind.”

“As you’ve proved over the past six months.” Frank sighed. “What do you think those documents will tell you anyways?”

“What happened to the escrow monies, for starters. And maybe something you missed, like why Katherine was killed.”

“Katherine died because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You say that with such ease. You’re not angry anymore?”

Frank leaned forward. His dead eyes reflected no emotion. “It’s been taken care of,” he said in a lowered voice.

“What has?” David said.

“Katherine. I’ve been compensated for her loss, and I understand now it was a necessity.” Frank began rolling a loose sheet of cigarette paper between his fingers, like he was pretending to roll a doobie. “Talking to the feds is never a good idea. You know someone who works for the feds too, eh? What’s her name, Ms. Conner?”

David didn’t answer. His glare said it all.

“Be a shame if she were to get too involved in this,” Frank said.

“Don’t threaten me, Frank. I don’t handle threats well.”

“I’m just saying we need to get everything on the table.”

“And I just like to know who I’m working for. Who’s paying my bills.”

Frank crumbled the paper in his fingers. “A little late for that, don’t you think?”

Something jarred David awake. He knew he’d been dreaming of Katherine in the fire. And the escrow records and every lie David had ever told for Frank were fueling the flames. At least when he’d been telling white lies for Blake Hubert, he knew what the truth was. Or so he thought. But now he had no idea what he was hiding. And he feared that the truth was worse than he could imagine. He couldn’t remember every detail of his dream, but he felt certain of something, a truth jelling in his mind. Frank had said the records were closer than David thought. The documents were right under his nose, and they’d been there the entire time. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t look for them.

Thirty minutes later, he drove past the safe house. The more he thought about the dream, the more he remembered all the boxes of documents he had seen in the garage there. It was just past midnight. He’d already driven up and down the street a few times to check for any signs of life inside the house. He knew Frank was staying downtown, but he was unsure where Robbie was tonight.

He parked the Saab in front of an abandoned house a block away. He approached the safe house in darkness. Standing in the desolate driveway, crushing the shoots of weeds that were sprouting through the cracks of the concrete, he peered through the garage window. There was no car inside; nothing but darkness.

He checked the front door and found it locked. So, he walked along the side of the house and around to the back. The screened lanai was unlocked, and Frank’s lawn chair rested next to a plastic table. The ashtray had been left out, filled with three butt ends of marijuana joints. David approached the sliding glass door. He gave it a slight pull, and it budged half an inch before stopping. David glanced down and saw a dowel rod had been inserted into the door track, a makeshift lock for a door that had probably never worked right. The rod bounced when he tried to open the door, so he wiggled it a few times to see if the rod would pop out.

Without warning, a white arm appeared and removed the rod from the track. Before David had time to run, the door slid open, and the blinds clattered like a discordant wind chime.

“What the hell are you doing?” Robbie asked.

David stood frozen. “I tried the front door.”

“And why were you trying the front door?”

“I was looking for Frank.”

“He’s staying at that hotel downtown. The one your secretary booked for him.”

“I couldn’t reach him.”

Robbie opened the blinds and told him to come inside. A second later, a lamp without a lampshade turned on, spreading a weak light over the room. Blankets were thrown on the couch, and half-a-dozen empty beer bottles were lined up on the end table. David heard a sink running from the nearby bathroom.

“You scared her off,” Robbie said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t you tell me why the hell you’re here?”

“Honestly, the nerves are getting to me. I could use some smoke. Could I just take some back with me?”

Robbie frowned. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

“Why don’t you tell me once and for all who Xerxes Capital is? The truth this time.”

Robbie chuckled. “The truth? You’re a lawyer. I thought you made up the truth.”

“What does Xerxes Capital have to do with this?”

Robbie pointed to the hallway behind him. “And what did you think you’d find here? Maybe a secret board meeting taking place?”

“The documents.”

“Oh, the documents,” Robbie said. “That’s right, those secret documents.”

“I don’t have time for sarcasm.”

“They’re up in the attic, actually. But I can’t let you up there. Does that make you feel better?”

David heard a door close in the hallway. A brunette with smeared mascara peeked around the corner.

“Come in,” Robbie told her. “It’s just our lawyer.”

“A lawyer? Oh, I got a question for you.”

“I’m not that kind of lawyer,” David said.

“But you didn’t even hear my question,” she whined.

Robbie put his arm around her. “It doesn’t matter, babe. You don’t want this guy to answer your questions. He’s proving himself pretty useless.”

As Robbie peered at David, David saw something in his eyes he’d never noticed before. At least in this light, they looked dark and soulless, like a snake’s.

“Where’s your truck?” David asked.

“It’s in the garage.” Robbie glanced at his girl, who looked like she was ready for another round of alone time. “You got a long day tomorrow,” he reminded David.

Robbie showed him out through the front door, and David heard the dead bolt turn. David quickly returned to the garage door and stood on his tiptoes. He still saw nothing but darkness.

But then, after another moment of concentration, he could make out the faint outline of Robbie’s truck parked in the middle of the garage. It had been there all along after all.

Judge Cox addressed the jury the next morning. The jurors listened eagerly; there was an electric anticipation in the courtroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are now going to continue with the evidence.” Judge Cox looked down at Vasquez, who was already standing at the lectern. “Mr. Vasquez, call your next witness.”

“Thank you, Judge. We call Mr. Francis O’Reilly.”

Frank stood and proceeded to the witness stand. He raised his right hand and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him God.

As David listened to Frank’s oath, he felt ashamed—so ashamed that a part of him wished Vasquez would finally do his damn job and get to the truth, whatever the hell that was. It wasn’t just Frank who elicited feelings of shame. It was also Ed Savage, who almost died, at least in some proximate sense, because David had lied to a court of law and hid an email for Blake Hubert’s bank. Not to mention Beth, probably the nicest woman David would ever meet, who was appalled by the clients David kept, and rightfully so.

The shame really welled when David thought about his old man and wondered what he would think of his son now. He used to imagine whether his dad would be proud that he’d escaped Newark, gone to law school and landed this job. Now, he wanted to run outside and scream when it dawned on him, a slow, honest admission to himself, that he’d chosen law school and this profession all those years ago—not because he thought it’d make his old man proud if he were still alive—but because deep inside he wanted to do something as far removed from his dad as possible; he wanted to show the old man and the world that David Lawrence Friedman was capable of doing things beyond his means and upbringing. He’d spent nearly the last fifteen years of his life, since he was a senior in high school, trying to prove that he was better than Larry Friedman. And that realization not only brought shame, but it made him miss his dad. If he took any consolation that his dad was gone, it was that he couldn’t see what his son had become. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to himself before returning his attention to his client on the witness stand.

Vasquez exchanged glances with the jury as he lofted his questions at Frank. “Mr. O’Reilly, at the time of this fire, Pinnacle Homes & Investments was in litigation with Meridian Bank of Miami concerning a mortgage against Gaspar Towers, is that right?”

Frank nodded. “That is true.”

“And the principal balance on that mortgage was nearly twenty million dollars?”

“That sounds about right.”

“Pinnacle had already missed two payments?”

“We were negotiating a forbearance agreement. We thought we were negotiating another one, and then the bank changed its mind at the last minute.”

“So you missed two payments?” Vasquez smiled at the jury as though apologizing for Frank’s elusiveness.

“We had a counterclaim, they caused us to default.”

“So you missed two payments?” Vasquez asked with frustration.

“We did.”

“Thank you.” Vasquez took a breath, making sure the jury noticed his small victory.

“At the time of this fire, you were involved in about two dozen lawsuits with purchasers at Gaspar Towers?”

Frank nodded. “Yes, they were disgruntled buyers who bought when the market was high, and wanted out when the market crashed.”

“And those lawsuits involved more than ten millions dollars in escrow monies?”

“Again, that sounds about right. And, I would add, we had to pay those deposits back after the fire.”

David glanced at the jurors. Their ears were pinned back, not missing a beat.

“And the escrow agent for those monies was a company named Xerxes Capital, is that right?”