And with that simple gesture, decades of pain and anguish melted into the past.
A quiet, new beginning for a broken, lost family.
THE END
WILL OF
JUSTICE
BILL HARVEY
BOOK 3
PETER O’MAHONEY
For all those who have served their country.
CHAPTER 1
Despite the anger raging through her veins, the young woman that stormed into attorney Bill Harvey’s office had an air of elegance around her.
Her red hair flowed gently over her shoulders, her movements were graceful, and her clothes spoke of class. The well-dressed woman was closely followed by Harvey’s assistant; the frantic Kate Spencer.
Both women stood at the entrance to the large office, staring down at Harvey as he raised his eyes from the file he was working on.
“May I help you?” he questioned.
“Bill, I’m sorry,” Kate apologized. “She just stormed in here. She—”
“Are you Bill Harvey?” the girl snapped, staring hard in an attempt at intimidation.
“I am.”
“Then you and I need to talk.”
“And why would that be?”
“Because I need your help. Urgently. And I’m willing to pay a lot for it.”
He smiled at the girl’s efforts to first bully him, and then buy him off. It took a lot to intimidate Bill Harvey. As a man that cast a large shadow, he wasn’t the type that responded well to threats.
During his twenty years working in Los Angeles, first as a hypnotherapist and now as a criminal defense attorney, he had seen it all, but this new generation of young adults still surprised him with their enormous amount of self-focus. He wouldn’t be surprised if the young lady removed her phone and snapped a selfie in his office, just to document it on her social media life journey.
“And why do you so desperately need my help, when there are many other things I can be working on?”
“Because I’m having trouble with my grandfather’s will.”
“I’m sorry, Miss…?”
“Miss Anna Lempare.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Lempare, but I’m a trial lawyer. I don’t deal with cases relating to wills. I do, however, know a very nice lawyer who does specialize in—”
“This will be a trial.”
Harvey grinned at her abruptness. Despite her lack of respect to his office schedule, despite her brashness, he liked her.
She had sass.
Leaning back in his chair, he took a long, slow, deep breath.
“Bill?” Kate queried, still waiting at the door, looking like she wanted nothing else but to escort the girl straight back out of his office.
“It’s fine. Thank you, Kate. I’ll handle it from here.”
The disappointment didn’t escape Kate’s face, but she nodded, faked a smile to Anna, and walked back out the door. Harvey waited a few moments before he proceeded further with his potential new client.
“And what makes you think that the case of a will may go to trial? Cases that relate to a will rarely get to that stage. Usually, any disputes are solved out of court.”
“Trust me, Mr. Harvey, this will go to trial. It will go there because the person who administrates the trustee is no longer fit to do so.”
“And why is that person no longer fit to do so?”
“Because I don’t like her.”
He had a solid chuckle. “I’m afraid that won’t hold up in a court of law as a reason to dismiss a will or its trustee.”
“I don’t care about what will hold up in a court of law. That’s your job. That’s why I want you to help me. If I could solve this problem myself, I would. I wouldn’t need you if I could figure out a way to get her off the will, but I can’t. I’ve googled everything. Nothing seems to work.”
“Some things cannot be solved by googling the right search terms, Anna.” Harvey smiled. “That is why experience is an invaluable asset.”
He loved how this generation had absolute faith in being able to learn anything by typing a collection of words into an Internet search engine.
“I need someone to help me out of this mess. I’m here because the Internet said that you’re the best lawyer in this town. They say that you can read people with amazing precision, and solve problems that nobody else can solve. You’re the guy that’s a former hypnotist and now works as a lawyer. You’re the one that hypnotizes the court to get the result he wants.”
“I must stop you there, Anna. I do nothing of the sort. Yes, I was once employed as a hypnotherapist that convinced people to stop their addictions—whether that was smoking, or alcohol, or hard drugs. It’s where my skill lies, but I don’t hypnotize anyone anymore. It wouldn’t be ethical for me to try and hypnotize a juror.”
“But people don’t know they’ve been hypnotized. I mean, how do I know that you haven’t hypnotized me right now?”
“People come in and out of what is referred to as hypnotic states all the time—think about when you drive your car, or catch the train, or brush your teeth. You’re not aware of the moment. Hypnotism is merely leveraging that moment. When a person is in a new situation, such as a courtroom, they are fully aware. For most, the courtroom is a new experience, and they are in no way able to go into a hypnotic state. However, what I do very well, is read people. I read their movements, their posture, and their body language. It tells me so much more than any statement.”
“That’s all you do?”
“That is all I need to do. For instance, the second you walked in here I recognized that your posture, clothes, and grooming reflects a life of privilege. However, the lines on your forehead show that it has been a young life full of stress. But with the tone of your voice, I don’t hear pain. There is no desperate agony in your voice. So, I assume that the stress is created by protesting against everything. You seek out things to feel stressed about, and then you become passionate about them. And you do this because you feel guilty that you grew up with money and your friends didn’t.”
Anna stared blankly at Harvey. “Did you just hypnotize me to get all that?”
“No, Anna.” Harvey replied. “I merely read your body language.”
“Well… it’s not my fault that I grew up with money and my friends didn’t. That’s not my fault. I didn’t ask to have that money. And I join protest movements because I feel passionate about those things. It’s what I do.”
“Of course.” He knew that her desperate need to explain herself meant his assessment was correct.
Bill Harvey came to Los Angeles from a small farming town to seek adventure and thrills in the city. He was first employed as a hypnotherapist, but he found that nobody outside his profession trusted him. He turned to studying law after a close friend was thrown into prison for a crime they didn’t commit, and he fell in love with the drama of the courtroom. Ten years after graduating from law school, he had built a reputation as the person who could win the impossible cases.
“So you went from hypnotist to lawyer?”
“Well, I had a job collecting leaves before becoming a lawyer. I was raking it in.”
Anna’s face was expressionless.
“That was a joke.”
“Oh,” she replied, still trying to work out the joke. “So, if I hire you, I can expect a lot of jokes? Great. My life is about to be turned upside down and you’re making jokes. Do you make legal-related puns as well?”
“Guilty.” Harvey chuckled. He paused for a few moments, and when Anna didn’t laugh, he continued his line of questioning. “I assume the will is in order?”
“It is,” Anna replied, still shaking her head.
“And has it been through probate?”
“It has. I have the copies here.” She aggressively removed the files from her large black Chanel handbag, slamming the documents down onto the desk.
“At least you came prepared.” He grinned. “Very well. What are the conditions that are so
trying for you?”
“I have to complete ten weeks of the United States Army Basic Training before the age of twenty-five to receive the full amount of my inheritance.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then one-hundred percent of the funds go to my grandfather’s favorite charity—Recovering Veterans. Although it’s quite a small charity, it’s a good place, and it does good things for people who need it, but it doesn’t deserve all my inheritance.”
“The conditions don’t sound overly taxing, Miss Lempare. Ten weeks of your life isn’t a long time.”
“You don’t understand, Mr. Harvey. Completing Army Basic Training goes against everything that I stand for. I have amazing respect for the men and women that serve our country, but I have no respect for the people that create these wars. None. The politicians that create this chaos never send their own children. I have lost too many members of my family to war—all because somebody in the Senate thinks that oil is worth fighting for. War is not the answer, Mr. Harvey. It never is.”
“If you complete the Army Basic Training, then I assume you’ll have to serve time in the army?”
“No way. The will said that I have to complete the training. That’s all it said. If I did it, which I won’t, I would quit after I complete the training, and would be dishonorably discharged.”
“And what is it that you do instead? Do you work, Miss Lempare?”
“I travel to volunteer. I’ve work with children in Sudan, families in the middle east, and schools in Asia. I’ve seen the results of war, Mr. Harvey. I’ve seen what it can do to people, to families, to whole communities. I’ve seen what it does physically to children—missing limbs, burns to half a child’s body, loss of eyesight—but worse than that, I’ve seen what it does to people mentally. War destroys the world. I will have no part in encouraging it.”
Harvey remembered the time when he used to be so idealistic. As age had come to him, he understood that the world was a lot more complicated than he first thought. And usually, money was at the heart of those complications.
“And who runs this charity?”
“Two men—Frank Matthews and Bud Morgan. They’ll do anything for the veterans, and I’ll always respect that. My family was an army family, so I know what they have to go through. Veterans will always have my respect.”
“What if you enroll, but don’t finish the training before you turn twenty-five?”
“The funds are held in trust until I finish. But if I don’t finish within one year of my first enrollment, one-hundred-percent of the funds still go to the charity.”
Calmly looking through the pages of the will on the table in front of him, Harvey pondered his thoughts for a while. “I see here that your aunt, Jessica Lempare, is the trustee. If she isn’t able to administrate the will anymore, is there someone else listed?”
“No. If anything happens to my aunt before I turn twenty-five, then the inheritance will be split equally between the charity and myself.”
“There is no other family member that could take on the role of trustee?”
With sadness, Anna looked to the ground in front of her. “No. My family… we’re a military family. Well, we were. I have lost my paternal grandparents, my father, my mother, and my brother to the horrors of war. That’s almost my entire family, Mr. Harvey. Because of that, I’ll never do what some politician wants me to do. Never. I’ll never join the army. My family has given enough. My aunt… she’s the only surviving member of my family still alive. Everyone else has passed.”
“How are you and your aunt related?”
“Through my father. My father is Jessica’s brother.”
“And your grandfather is from your mother’s side of the family?”
“That’s correct. Although they weren’t related, my grandfather had a lot of trust in my Aunt Jessica. He liked her sense of discipline.”
“This aunt of yours, is she ill or mentally unstable?”
“No. She still has her health. She’s not a nice person, but she’s stable.”
“And the only way that the will can be changed is if your aunt and the charity committee agree that it should be changed?”
“That’s right. But they will never agree to what I say. The charity wouldn’t survive without the funds they receive from the estate. The charity receives a large donation each month from the amount of interest that the estate generates. It’s the only real source of funds that they receive.”
“How old are you now, Anna?” Harvey directed the conversation to the facts. As a man who had spent years dealing with innocent people, desperate criminals, and smooth liars, Harvey knew that his focus needed to be on the facts.
“I turned twenty-four one month ago.”
“So, the urgency is that you have eleven months until you’re required to enroll with the intent of completing the Army Basic Training course?”
“Yes… or eleven months for my aunt to die of old age.”
“And is there any chance of you enrolling to complete this course?”
“Absolutely not. No way. Not a chance. I’m not in the slight bit interested in becoming an army cadet. I will not encourage war. I’ll not submit to an old-fashioned clause for the sake of money. And… I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I can’t do that. I don’t have it in me to kill a person. I couldn’t do that. Not after what war has done to my family, or the families around the world. There’s no way I can join the institution that took my family away.”
“I see. How long has your grandfather been deceased?”
“Ten years.” Anna looked around the room, impressed with the number of law books that lined the walls. “So, what are you going to do, Mr. Big-Shot-Lawyer?”
“I have to warn you, Miss Lempare, my fees are very expensive…”
“The will is currently worth twenty million dollars. If you win me the right to my money, I’ll pay you one million dollars, no questions asked.”
Drawing another long, deep breath, Harvey slowly leaned back in his chair.
This was the type of business that he needed. The police force had been downsized in his area over the past twelve months, and that meant fewer arrests. Fewer arrests meant fewer people to defend.
He had been looking for that one big case to keep him going.
“Then I guess the first step is to review the documents and meet with your aunt.”
“Her number is there. She’s waiting for your call.” Anna leaned forward, tapping the precise place where the number was on the front page of the document. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I hope this is sorted by then.”
“It won’t be, Anna.” Harvey laughed. “But I like your style.”
CHAPTER 2
Jessica Lempare was waiting for a call from Bill Harvey’s office and seemed quite content with arranging a time to sit down with him. Her apartment was only thirty minutes’ drive from Harvey’s Downtown L.A. office, and due to the hefty sum offered by Anna, the discussion went to the top of his list.
“Impressive,” Harvey whispered under his breath as he entered the foyer of the exclusive Los Feliz Palace apartment building.
Filled with old Hollywood charm, the art deco building stood proudly on Los Feliz Boulevard with a backdrop of the Hollywood Hills. Built in 1924, the building radiated a sense of charisma from a past era. The commitment to conserving the cultural integrity of the building was evident. The paint work was impeccable, there were no fingerprints on the door handles, and the windows were spotless. The building was full of class and style, and Harvey was sure that Ms. Lempare would be no different.
After two heavy knocks on the door of apartment 312, the criminal defense lawyer didn’t have to wait long until the door opened.
“I assume that you’re Bill Harvey,” a thin older lady questioned with a stern tone.
“I am. And you must be Ms. Lempare?”
“Yes.”
He smiled at the woman who reminded him of his Aunt Rebecca.
Both women were petite,
but clearly feisty. This was a woman who would never back down from a fight. In fact, she most likely thrived on it. His Aunt Rebecca was the same. She was the one that taught him the true power of intimidation. There was nothing like the back of a wooden spoon to send chills up the spine of a six-year-old.
“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lempare.”
“I imagine this meeting should settle a few things,” she quipped, still standing in the doorway.
“How so?”
“Anna is a very difficult person to reason with, Mr. Harvey. I cannot possibly have a normal conversation with her. I’ve tried numerous times to have discussions with her about this will, but she’s so single-minded that she cannot see my point-of-view.”
“I’m sure that she isn’t the only one in her family that is single-minded.”
She stared at Harvey, trying to decide if his statement was offensive.
“Please, come in,” she stated in a tone that wasn’t at all welcoming.
The interior of the apartment was exactly as Harvey expected—full of stylish 1950’s décor with a smell of mothballs. Apart from being classy, this woman obviously had an ability to keep things very well-maintained. Even the best police forensic team in the country wouldn’t find a speck of dust in her apartment.
The majority of the furnishings were delicately white, contrasting against the dark wooden floorboards. Despite the age of the furnishings, they looked like they had hardly been touched.
“This is a very lovely apartment. I love the décor that you’ve selected throughout the place. Clearly, you have a very good eye for detail.”
“I love this building; it’s a part of me. I’ve lived her for many, many years, and I’ve never felt the need to move. This is my piece of Los Angeles,” she replied. “Apart from some of the other residents, this building is perfect.”
“You don’t like the other residents?”
“My next door neighbor, Thomas Feeble, is a horrible man. He appears rather weak, but he’s very aggressive around me. He also has a horrible taste in décor.” She looked to the floor. “But I’m sure that you’re not here to talk about the importance of selecting the correct décor inside an apartment.”
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