After the Fire

by Meredith Rae Morgan

  Chapter 8

  Ed Casey called Bev early on Monday and offered to pick her up for the meeting. She accepted and said she'd bring coffee for both of them. A few minutes later he pulled into the driveway. Bev stuck her head in Emily's door and said, “I'm leaving, if you're late for the bus, you'll be hoofing it to school.” Emily mumbled something from under the covers.

  Bev slid into the passenger's seat and leaned back, sipping her coffee and smiling. Casey cocked his head to the side and smiled. “I can't say that I've ever seen you look quite so relaxed.”

  “I'll start to get nervous when we get closer to Dayton, but right now I'm going to enjoy being a passenger. I'm a single mom. I don't remember the last time I was a passenger in somebody else's car, other than taxi cabs -- which don't count because those rides are usually anything but relaxing. This is wonderful.”

  He said, “Anytime you want to go for a ride, let me know. My favorite form of relaxation is taking long drives in the country.”

  “Let me know the next time you do that. If I'm free, I might want to tag along.”

  They were quiet for a while after that. Bev wondered if he were as freaked out by the direction that conversation seemed to be going as she was. She hoped so.

  The Rittenhauses greeted them with coffee, fruit and muffins. They ate breakfast and chatted for a few minutes, then Bev pushed aside her plate and said, “Okay, we have a lot of territory to cover, let's get started.”

  Frank went first, reviewing much of the information he had given Bev on Saturday for Casey's benefit and then adding some new material he had pieced together on Sunday. He concluded, “Mazzoli's business was teetering on the brink and his marriage was evidently on the rocks largely due to the financial pressures. His brother and sister were partners in the business. Both of them were aware of the problems with the restaurant, but their personal financial situation was not as bad as Ron and Claudia's because each of them have spouses who work at other jobs and neither of them has plowed so much of their own money into the business. Ron Mazzoli is suspect Number One, but none of us working on the investigation thinks he's guilty.

  “Suspect Number Two would be a disgruntled employee or former employee of The Barn. Couldn't find a one. The only person Mazzoli ever fired was a former bartender who he fired for drinking the bar profits. I found the guy. He said Mazzoli's firing him was the best thing that ever happened, it forced him to go to AA and get sober. He's a fan of Mazzoli and told me repeatedly Mazzoli's a good and decent man. The rest of the employees are for the most part long-time folks. One of the waitresses who was not on duty the night of the fire has worked in the restaurant for forty years. She'd make a good witness on the subject of the Mazzoli family; she's worked for three generations of Mazzolis. Rest of the living employees have nothing but wonderful things to say about their employer. I think we can eliminate all of them.

  “Suspect Number Three would be an enemy of Sonderland, the father of the groom. Lord knows, he had enemies. I didn't find anybody in town who had a good word to say about him. But it didn't seem that anybody hated him enough to want to kill him and take out half the town in the process. As we discussed, the bartender on duty that night was a former employee Sonderland had fired. He said he was very happy working at the restaurant.

  “Suspect Number Four would be an enemy of Dr. Prescott. We haven't been able to place anyone with connections to him in the restaurant other than the possibility of the as-yet-unidentified waiter. We're waiting for an ID with dental records, but the guy appeared in town about three weeks before the fire, got a job as a waiter, telling Mazzoli he was a grad student at the university. That turns out not to be true and it also does not appear he lived in Stanforth. He was commuting from someplace. The cops had impounded an abandoned car parked near the restaurant. I suggested it might be a good idea to have the crime lab folks check it out. Turns out it was his car. I'm going to let Cici report on that.

  “I'm sorry to be so loosey-goosey here with my opinions, but based on what I have been able to dig up, I think we can't point the finger at any one person yet.”

  Bev tapped the table with the eraser of a pencil as she glanced over her notes. She looked at Casey and raised her eyebrows, “You got any questions for Frank?”

  “Nope. That's very thorough. I'm good.”

  She said, “Okay. I agree with your conclusions. Keep digging.” She turned to Cici and held out her hand, “You're up.”

  Cici consulted her bulleted talking points sheet and launched into a detailed and organized story that muddied the waters even further. “Prescott married a rich woman while he was in medical school. At the time they met, she was recently divorced from a surgeon and she'd received a large divorce settlement. She funded Prescott's education and paid the bills for a number of years. They lived well beyond his means for many years.

  “In recent years, his practice took off and he started making serious money. The bulk of his practice was facial surgery for rich women. He charged a bloody fortune and a lot of people didn't think his work was worth the price. I think it may be significant that I have been told (but have not been able to confirm) that his malpractice insurance company sent him notice of its intent to non-renew his policy at the end of the policy period -- which is this coming July -- because he had reported two significant claims, both of which are now in litigation. I called two different insurance agents who sell medical malpractice insurance. They both told me that if they could even find a market at all for an account like that, the premium would be astronomical. They estimated his premium was probably in the range of $100,000 a year now. If he could replace the coverage, the premium would go up to the $300,000 to $400,000 range, if he could even get insurance for facial surgery. He'd have to do a lot of nose jobs to make up that kind of increase. I'm not sure that has anything to do with the fire, but it may be important to know that this man, like Mazzoli, was on the brink of a professional and financial meltdown.

  “His employees were generally happy with their jobs. He paid them fairly and gave them benefits that were as good or better than they'd have received from other solo practitioners. None of his employees had anything bad to say about him. Significantly, none of them spoke particularly highly of him either.

  “His reputation in the medical community was that he was a generally competent surgeon but he was not the artist with a knife he thought himself to be.

  “Family was generally happy. The daughter was a pharmacist. Wife was a socialite of sorts and kind of charity do-gooder, like many doctors' wives. I didn't sniff out any scandal there. Interestingly, or maybe not, it appears that Dr. and Mrs. Prescott were happily married, and both seemed to be faithful to one another. From what I learned, that seems to be somewhat unusual in the community of plastic surgeons. Three people mentioned it as though it were somewhat amazing.”

  She took a sip of water and checked off several points on her paper. “He didn't seem to have personal enemies that I could tell. He did have those two claims hanging over his head.

  “The first one involved breast implants that went bad. Patient was a middle-aged rich woman whose breasts had begun to sag a bit. The implants evidently leaked or she was allergic to the silicon or something. She almost died from the reaction, had to have the implants removed. She ended up having a different surgeon do a breast reduction. She was left with significant scarring, a compromised immune system and really tiny boobs. She and her husband sued Prescott for several million dollars. Case is pending. Prescott's carrier has offered to settle for $650,000, but the plaintiffs have rejected the offer. The case was set for trial in August. It's been taken off the docket in the wake of Prescott's death.”

  “The other case involved a face lift for a rich old lady who is the widow of a prominent lawyer and the current wife of an even richer businessman. Infection ensued after the surgery and she was left with disfiguring facial scars. A lawsuit has been filed, but has not
progressed very far. Insurance companies for the doctor and the hospital are negotiating. That one should settle in the range of $200,000 or so.”

  Casey looked puzzled, “Only $200,000 for permanent facial disfigurement?”

  Cici nodded and winked, “The claimant is 78 years old and she was not exactly Sophia Loren to begin with.”

  They all laughed without any real humor. Bev ran her pencil down her notes. “It wouldn't make sense for either of the plaintiffs to want to kill Prescott. They were already pursuing their claims legally. Malpractice claims can wreck a doctor's career. These folks were in the process of getting their revenge the appropriate way. I think we're in the right church, but the wrong pew. Do some more digging. Have there been other malpractice claims that were dismissed? Claims where the person didn't feel vindicated? Is there any way to find out about unfortunate outcomes of recent surgeries that may not have resulted in a claim yet?”

  Cici made a couple of notes. “I've got a good source in the hospital where Prescott operates. I think I can find out about his recent cases. There were two prior malpractice claims, both settled some time ago.”

  Bev chewed her lip. “Check out the older claims just to make sure they were settled for an amount that was appropriate and not for some paltry, insulting amount that somebody might stew about for years before they go nuts. But, focus on the recent patients.

  “I think we're through here.” She looked at her watch and said, “Anybody want to join me for a quick lunch?”

  Cici said, “We go to a place a couple of blocks down the road. You can call ahead and they'll have your food ready.” She reached into the drawer of a credenza behind her and pulled out a couple of menus, pushing them across the table to Bev and Ed. She added, “Dad and I always get the blackened mahi mahi sandwich. It's as good as any fish sandwich around.”

  Bev said, “Works for me. Excuse me. I think I'll hit the ladies'.”

  Ed said, “Sorry. I'm an old fashioned midwestern meat and 'taters guy. I'll have a burger and fries.”

  After lunch Casey drove Bev to Midwestern Indemnity's home office in downtown Dayton. He pulled up in front and asked, “You want me to go with you?”

  “No, thanks. I doubt Dave would let you in the meeting anyway. Confidentiality and all that. Do you have a blackberry? I can email you when we're about to wrap up.”

  “No. I don't carry a blackberry. I have a cell phone. Call me when you're finished. I'll go hang out at the library. It's not far away.”

  A few minutes later she walked into David Jamison's office. He stood up and said, “Punctual as always! Let's go get comfortable in the conference room. If we get there first we can get our preferred seats.”

  The fraud investigator and the in-house attorney were already in the conference room. Bev could tell Dave was annoyed that the attorney had taken the seat at the end of the table and gave every appearance of intending to run the meeting. She knew Dave thought this was his meeting, but he was wrong. She had not met the lawyer before, so she put out her hand and said, “Bev Deller.”

  He stood up and smiled. His handshake was both warm and firm and his smile seemed genuine. “It's a pleasure to met you, Bev. You have fans in the legal department. I happen to be one of them. I'm Russell McGavin.”

  Bev was surprised the company had sent its head claims counsel to the meeting. Maybe this claim was a bigger deal than she had guessed. She mumbled something pleasant and then turned to the fraud investigator who was standing next to her obviously trying not to laugh. She grinned and gave him a hug. He hugged her back and said, “We just can't keep out of each others' way!”

  McGavin looked confused, Peter Dietz said, “I came through the claim department. In fact, Bev was my mentor. She trained me.” He laughed, “She taught me everything I know about investigating.”

  Bev said, “Pete's too modest. I taught him everything I knew about investigating. He added that to his brilliant instincts and natural curiosity which made him an amazing investigator. That's why you promoted him over me, and now pay him the big bucks.”

  They sat down. Dave took the chair at the opposite end of the oval table from McGavin. Bev and the fraud investigator sat across from one another. McGavin waved his index finger back and forth between Bev and Peter and said, “Why don't the two of you just talk. If Dave or I have questions, we'll chime in.”

  Peter said to Bev, “Dave has shared your preliminary reports with me. I've also reviewed Ben Tucker's initial report, and I've brought Mr. McGavin up to speed as to where we are at least as of your last report to Dave. Why don't you start by filling us in with new stuff.”

  “Okay.” Bev pulled out her own sheet of bulleted talking points and, like Cici, checked them off as she covered each of them, reviewing generally the thrust of their investigation and finishing with the most recent developments as to causation. She said, “I realize this is not where we want to be at this point. The people in town are getting very antsy for us to make a determination as to causation. Reporters and attorneys are circling. They'll pounce as soon as we give an indication of which way we are headed.”

  McGavin asked, “How's Mazzoli handling this?”

  “He's being cooperative and amazingly patient. Paul Morehouse is doing a good job of babysitting him. We've made it clear to him that if he set the fire, we'll prosecute him. We've also made it clear to him that if he didn't set the fire we'll defend him but he has a serious limits problem.”

  Dave asked, “Assuming for a moment that he didn't set the fire, what's your assessment of our exposure?”

  “He has $1million liability limits. No excess coverage. The three partners in the restaurant have a combined total of $900,000 in personal liability insurance. We have fifty three dead and about a dozen people in various burns units in Cincinnati and Dayton. Quite honestly, I have not even begun to try to do any kind of assessment of what the actual damages may be. I can't count that high. I asked Paul to float the idea to the insured that if this turns out to be a covered claim he might consider throwing the $2.5 million he has the restaurant insured for into the settlement pot. I'd be inclined to put it all on the table and try to get a release so the insured can avoid losing everything else he has.”

  “What was Mazzoli's reaction to that?”

  “Haven't heard back from Paul yet. I don't think we're there yet anyway.”

  “Do we have any actual demands?”

  “Not as of Friday when I last spoke with Paul. A couple of attorneys have contacted him, one of them a nationally known plaintiff's lawyer.”

  McGavin said, “Swell!”

  “Actually, I've been up against the guy before. He's good. He understands insurance, which is going to be important in this case. I can deal reasonably with Tim Peters. The ones who give me trouble are the guys who won't take into consideration the limits of insurance.”

  Dietz flipped through the file in front of him, “This is so confusing! There is no question in my mind this fire was set. The insured had financial motive and opportunity to set it. But it doesn't make sense that the insured would torch the building when it was full of his neighbors and long-time customers.”

  Bev interjected, “His own granddaughter was having dinner with her fiance. She died in the fire. I cannot believe Mazzoli, or anyone in his family, set that fire. I won't say it might not have been an idea they were kicking around. Their financial situation is dire. He might have been desperate enough to try to get away with burning the building, but he'd have done it at night when there was no one inside.”

  All three of the others at the table nodded.

  Dietz asked, “Then who's our firebug?”

  “We don't think its a local. We're looking into the possibility that it could be a disgruntled patient of Dr. Prescott. The fire started directly behind where he was sitting. Turns out he's a plastic surgeon of only moderate skill. He's evidently made a few mistakes. I have my PI looking into the possibility that he may
have botched a recent surgery and someone decided not to wait for the courts to mete out justice.”

  Dietz and McGavin both nodded and made a note. McGavin asked, “How long do you think it will take Ms. Rittenhaus to dig through that.”

  “Shouldn't be long. She has a source at the hospital. I'll fill you in as soon as I hear back from her.”

  They were all quiet for a while, looking at their notes. Bev looked at her watch and asked the question nobody wanted to hear, “I hate to say this, but I think we have to go to the cops with what we know. First of all, this is looking like a murder not insurance fraud, despite the damning evidence we have against our insured. Second, we need the crime lab folks to investigate this angle.”

  Dave said, “I know how you prefer to work with the cops on your investigations, but I'm afraid if we turn it over to them too soon, they'll take the easy way and go after Mazzoli.”

  “I agree, which is why I've tried to keep them away until now. Ed Casey, Ben Tucker, both of the Rittenhauses and I have interviewed Mazzoli and none of us think he did it. I can produce character witnesses out the wazoo. I'm prepared to fight for the insured. But, I don't want to wait too long and risk having the FBI accuse us of obstruction of justice. I would not look good in an orange jumpsuit. Besides,” she made a nasty face, “I just love working with the feds.”

  They all laughed. McGavin looked at Dietz and said, “Your call. Do you want to take over the claim?”

  “No. I trust Bev's instincts. She's got enough evidence that will at least allow us to proceed as though this may not be insurance fraud. I know she'll turn it over to me if and when it becomes appropriate to do so.”

  Bev stuck out her tongue and said, “Bastard!” Dietz responded with a crude gesture.

  McGavin pretended not to notice. He looked at Bev. “I agree that you should go to the cops. Have you hired a lawyer for the company?”

  “No. I hired counsel for the insured. I've been dragging my feet on hiring coverage counsel for the company because I really don't know a lawyer who can do what I think we need.”

  McGavin said, “For now, I'm taking this over. You will still handle the claim, but you'll report to me as opposed to Dave. I'll keep Peter in the loop.”

  “Ed Casey is with me today. We're prepared to visit our good friends at the FBI this afternoon if you think that's appropriate. You want to go with us?”

  “No. I prefer to keep in the background for now. Call me on my cell phone after your meeting. I want you to keep me informed, on a daily basis if necessary of all developments. If this is a murder investigation, that changes everything.”

  Bev said, “Yeah. I think I need to go now, but I'd like for us to meet again soon to discuss strategy. If we're going to handle this as a covered loss, we've got serious limits problems. I have believed all along there was some negligence on the part of our insured: for one thing, the building was a fire trap. But, if the fire was not an accident, that will be a big mitigating factor. I'd like to get a lawyer and a damages expert in early to start crunching numbers.”

  McGavin said, “I think that's a good idea. I like to work with Bob Rayburn from Stuart Lytle in Columbus. Do you know him?”

  “I've heard of him. I'll trust your judgment on that. Can he handle the litigation?”

  “Don't think so. He's mainly coverage counsel and a background advisor. I think you'll like him. He actually started out as an adjuster.”

  “We'll see about whether or not I like him. I'm not crazy about most adjusters I know because I think most of them think the know more about the law than they do. And I'm not crazy about most lawyers I know because, while they. may know the law, they don't know a lot about much else. And both species tend to score very high on the arrogance meter.”

  She stood up and added, tossing her head and laughing, “And, of course, you all know know humble and self-effacing I am.” She shook hands all around and told McGavin she'd call him later. She asked Jamison if he had a minute. They got in the elevator together and headed for his office, “You okay with McGavin taking this over?”

  He said, “He told me he was going to do it. Anyway. I'm okay with Legal taking over if this is going to be the litigation nightmare that I think it could turn into. McGavin was a litigator who handled insurance defense work before he came to work for the company, so he knows what he's doing. You'll be in good hands, and I'm here if you need me.”

  “OK. I guess that helps. I've worked for you for a long time and I guess I'm a little nervous about reporting to somebody new in the middle of such a big deal.”

  “We all understand that and I think McGavin would be okay if you want to bounce stuff off me. I'll make sure of that.”

  “Thanks. I'd appreciate that. McGavin's probably a great guy and all, but I'm used to dealing with you.” She hung her head for a minute, her whole body sagging. Then she straightened and put on a cheer-leader grin. “And now I get to go visit my dear friends at the FBI. I am just soooo excited.”