After the Fire

by Meredith Rae Morgan

  Chapter 13

  On Monday morning, Bev logged onto her email and discovered that while she had been exploring the back roads of Ohio, her investigators had been busy. She had receive emails from all of them. She spent most of the day reviewing the investigators notes and fleshing out her written report to the company. By three o'clock she had a 10 page memo containing seven pages summarizing the facts they knew, and three pages of bulleted issues that were still under investigation, with notes regarding her ideas as to what they needed to do to do next and who should undertake those tasks.

  She proofed it quickly one last time and sent it to McGavin and Wentzel with an email indicating it was her intention to beat on the investigators for some results during the week. She suggested scheduling a meeting on Friday if that were convenient. Both attorneys responded immediately in the affirmative. Rita added a note to McGavin that she was going to be in Dayton on Thursday; she'd plan on spending the night so she would be available whenever he was free. McGavin didn't even make any remarks about holding down the hotel expense.

  All the investigators checked in during the week, but none of them had anything conclusive. Paul reported that Mazzoli and his accountant had scheduled met with the IRS on Tuesday during which Mazzoli paid the back taxes plus interest. The IRS told them they would get back to Mazzoli regarding any penalties or fines. Bev made sure the FBI knew about that. She did not expect, nor did she receive any response from the FBI.

  Paul sent her six more lawsuits. One filed by Peters on behalf of about half of the surviving customers, one on behalf of some of the deceased employees and one on behalf of all of the employees who survived with injuries. Several other lawyers surfaced. A couple of them filed suit right away. A couple more sent letters of representation advising that demands would be forthcoming. Bev told Paul to dig up all he could on those lawyers. She forwarded the complaints and letters of representation to Pariente's office for handling. She noticed that Paul had not copied Pariente on his email to her. She decided to force a meeting between the two of them. She couldn't afford for her legal team to get sideways of each other this early in the game.

  Tucker reported that the second pass through the building had yielded nothing new for him. Of course, the FBI was not sharing the results of its investigation, but he said the CSI told him they didn't find anything new, either.

  On Wednesday she sent an email to both Frank and Cici Rittenhaus advising that she wanted to meet with them on Thursday. Cici responded a few minutes later with a phone call, “Bev, I have a couple of appointments with folks in Cincinnati tomorrow. Dad's going to be in Stanforth in the morning. He has a breakfast appointment with a new source he came up with who might be able to help with some background on the Mystery Waiter. He can see you after that. Would you mind if I just fill you in on where I am over the phone right now.”

  Bev laughed, “Any day I don't have to drive into Dayton, is a good day. What do you have?”

  “Well, the short version is that I'm almost certain that the people who were actually engaged in litigation over their surgeries are not the people we're looking for. The don't fit the profile. They're rich people who let lawyers handle their affairs and they're after money, not vengeance. I decided to focus on other patients who might not have been happy with the results of the surgery but who didn't file a claim, or maybe those who filed claims and were unhappy with the outcome.”

  “So far, I'm with you. How are you obtaining this information?”

  “I have a friend who's a surgical nurse at the hospital where Prescott worked. She's been very cooperative because she basically thinks Prescott was a very substandard surgeon who was also an ass to the hospital staff. She's been willing to feed me names of people to talk to. My other source is actually an employee of Prescott's. I have to admit that she, too, is a someone with an ax to grind, but she's giving me names not evidence, so I'm feeling okay about her, too.”

  Bev said, “Just a minute, let me get a pen and paper.” A few minutes later she put on her headset, picked up the phone and said, “Okay, go.”

  Cici launched into a long narrative ticking off names and details of surgeries. Prescott seemed to do okay on breast implants and liposuction, but he wasn't very good with facial surgeries. A significant number of patients for whom he did facial surgery ended up having the work redone, most often by a doctor other than Prescott. “One surgical nurse I talked to told me that Prescott's insurance company told him that they were going to exclude coverage for facial surgery at his next renewal. Can they do that? If so, how can we find out?”

  “Yes, they absolutely can do that. I'm not sure how we can find that out without a subpoena, but his insurance records will be the first thing we'll subpoena when we get into discovery. I'm not sure that is germane to the issue of the arsonist, but his claims history will of course speak volumes about his surgical skill. Have you discovered anything specific?”

  “I'm starting to zero in on some patients who are most likely to have a reason to be spiteful. So far, I've got a model who had a nose job that went really bad and she lost an opportunity for a magazine cover because of it, a rich old lady whose face lift was so bad she had to go to Los Angeles to have it redone at considerable expense and a young woman who had a nose job before her wedding and got a staph infection that caused them to have to remove her nose altogether.”

  “The staph infection wouldn't be Prescott's fault. Usually that's the hospital's issue.”

  “I don't know the details yet, but I'm thinking that a young woman who's vain enough to have a nose job so her wedding pictures will look good is not likely to be too happy about ending up with no nose at all.”

  “You have a point. Have any of these people filed malpractice claims?”

  “I don't know. Obviously I don't have access to his insurance files. I'm talking to medical folks at the hospital. My next step is to interview the people directly.”

  “What reason are you going to give them for your inquiry?”

  “I'm working on my cover story. How about something like this: at the request of the insurance company I'm doing research into the outcomes of some of Dr. Prescott's recent surgeries.”

  “That may be close. Work on it a bit. Be very careful not to misrepresent yourself.”

  Cici said, “Bev, I know I'm young, but I started working for Dad when I was 14. I've been a licensed PI since I turned 21. He's the best you'll ever find and I've learned a lot from him. I know what I can and can't do. I also know that whatever I do or say will come out in court, and the last thing I want to do is to show myself to a jury as a liar. That'll kill your case -- and torpedo my career, to boot. Neither of those would be good things.”

  “Sorry. Not all of the PI's I've worked with have your ethical sensibilities.”

  Bev had to hold the headset away from her ear while Cici laughed, “I just can't imagine PI's without ethical sensibilities!”

  Bev changed the subject, “You got anything else? Anything on the mystery waiter.”

  “I don't but Dad told me he thinks he might be onto something there. He'll let you know in the morning. I will call you tomorrow night when I get back, or Friday at the latest.”

  “Okay. Talk to you soon.”

  On a hunch she called the cell number of the investigator in the Cincinnati crime lab. “Tom Jackson.”

  “Hey, Tom. Bev Deller here. I know this is a little out of the ordinary, but I have a meeting on Friday with the company and a slew of lawyers. I'm wondering if you can share anything at all with me about what you may have found out.”

  “Bev, you know I can't talk about an ongoing investigation.”

  “I know that and I am not asking you to give me any specific confidential information. What I want to know is if you have uncovered any evidence that may point to the identity of the person who set the fire, assuming that it was not an accident.”

  He paused for a long time. She prompted him, “It is getting ver
y close to the time when my company is going to have to either start paying out some serious money or withdraw. If I'm going to accuse my insured of arson and deny coverage, I want to do it before I spend a ton of money defending him. On the other hand, if you have uncovered information that would tend to exonerate the insured, then I will ramp up into full battle mode to defend him for all I'm worth. I don't need specifics. I just need an indication of which way you're leaning.”

  Jackson still didn't answer for a while. Eventually he said, “Well, you see, there seems to be a slight disagreement on that between my guys and the FBI, if you can imagine such a thing.” When he laughed he kind of snorted. “Only this time it's bass-ackwards from the way those things usually go. The FBI has sort of summarily decided that Mazzoli's the arsonist and that's that. Takes it out of their yard. They're busy. I think they are about to close their file. My guys aren't so convinced. In fact my team is divided. I have one investigator who thinks it's an accident; she's got a cool computer model that can make a pretty solid case for this being a totally freak accident.

  “Another one has put together a model of the people traffic that I think demonstrates that none of the Mazzoli family -- including Claudia -- was in the right position to set the fire. I clued Tucker in on the information we came up with on Claudia's movements. He's redoing his models. The bottom line is that for her to have set the fire, she'd have had to pass behind the table in back of the patrons. However, they had the table set up in a U-shape and Claudia was serving from the inside of the U. That's probably improper from the standpoint of protocols for serving food, but it was very practical and less intrusive to the customers.

  “Is that enough of an indication for you?”

  “Oh, yeah. How much of that did you give Ben?”

  “Ben and I are best buds. We talk all the time.”

  “So if you've got all this information and computer models showing the Mazzoli's couldn't have done it and it may even be an accident, on what is the FBI basing its conclusion that Mazzoli's guilty.”

  “My opinion? I think they're basing it purely on circumstantial evidence with no real investigation. Ramon Anderson's a good guy and a decent cop, but his forte is white collar crime, bank fraud and money laundering. He's really good at that. This is not something he cares to mess with, so he's shoving it aside based on circumstantial evidence.”

  “Maybe that's good.”

  “It's very good as long as he closes his investigation as 'inconclusive' as opposed to turning it over to the DA for prosecution.”

  “When will we know what he's going to do?”

  “When the cops arrest Mazzoli.”

  “Thank you. You've been very helpful. I shall sleep soundly tonight.”

  “Attending to the peace of mind of insurance adjusters is what I live for.”

  Next she called Tucker, asking about his new models. He said, “This is good stuff. Of course, it isn't proof positive that Mazzoli wasn't behind the setting of the fire, but it demonstrates that none of the Mazzoli family started the fire.”

  “How did Jackson come up with the information?”

  “Somebody in the crime lab pieced together the statements of all the survivors as to where people were in the room just before the fire. We knew Claudia was on her way from the bar to the kitchen, and if she had passed behind the table she'd have been in the perfect spot at the very moment the fire was set. But, she said that she was in front of the table -- inside the U. Other staff and some customers corroborated that. Evidently they often set up special tables in a U shape off in the corner. Claudia served from the inside of the U.”

  “Wait a minute! Claudia was inside the U when the fire started. Right?”

  “We think so.”

  “What exactly was she doing?”

  She could hear him clicking keys on his computer. “She was serving drinks to Prescott and his wife. Then she picked up a bunch of dishes and headed for the kitchen.”

  “Prescott was sitting about five feet from where the fire started. Right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then Claudia may have seen the person who set the fire. She would have been facing in that direction, only a few feet away. Maybe she was focused on chatting up the customers and didn't consciously notice anything, but she may know who was behind the table.”

  “Let me know what you find out after you talk to her.”

  “Okay. Good work, Ben. Stay friends with the boys in the crime lab.”

  “We're working on a TV deal.”

  She laughed, “Don't quit your day job! Jackson's no Gary Sinese.”

  “Maybe not, but I look a little like the bald guy on CSI Miami.”

  Bev laughed, said something rude and hung up.

  It was late, but she called Rita Wentzel, who picked up the phone saying, “Hey, Bev. You must have something very interesting to be calling so late.”

  “Actually, I'm calling with a question to make sure I'm not out of bounds with what I intend to do.”

  “You're asking for guidance from me?”

  “Isn't that what the company hired you for?”

  “Yes it is, but they warned me you never ask for advice or listen to instructions when somebody offers them.”

  “Oh, screw them. I want to interview Claudia Mazzoli again. I think she may have seen the person who set the fire, without even being aware of it. I propose to call Paul Morehouse and ask to take a supplemental statement. I'm willing to have Ed Casey present. I don't want to have to bring in the FBI or the crime lab. Am I okay to do that?”

  Rita thought about it for a while. “As long as her attorney and the local law enforcement people are present, I think you're okay. It will be up to Ed Casey to decide what he want to share with the other law enforcement folks.”

  “You rock!”

  “That's something I don't often hear from adjusters.”

  “It's true today, anyway. Tomorrow I may feel differently. I'll see you on Friday.”

  She sent an email to Morehouse and Casey requesting Paul to set up an interview with Claudia as soon as it could be arranged.

  Then she spend a couple of hours working on the preliminary outline of her third detailed report to the company and a bulleted list of the items she wanted to cover in her meeting with McGavin and Wentzel on Friday. About eleven, Emily knocked on the door and peeked in, “I just wanted to say goodnight, Mom.”

  “Good-night, sweetheart. I'm sorry I was so busy tonight I didn't even have time to visit with you. Anything up with you I should know about?”

  “It's no problem, Mom. Usually you're out of town and I don't get to see you at all. Did you eat dinner.”

  “Um. No. I forgot.”

  Emily pursed her lips and drew her brows together in a comical effort to look stern, “Mom!”

  “I'll eat a big breakfast.”

  “I do have a couple of bits of news. For one thing, Mom, is there any way you can make some kind of decision on this fire? You're not out there talking to the people but I'm telling you, it's getting really ugly. About half the town is ready to lynch Mr. Mazzoli for being a moocher, an arsonist and a murderer. The other half is ready to march on the department of insurance and raise hell about the big, bad insurance company jerking around its insured and all the poor claimants who aren't getting any money. I gotta tell you, it's hard to take.”

  “Do you want to take some time off school? I am sure I could work that out with the principal. I don't want you to have to be the brunt of any of that bullshit and I most especially don't want you to feel as though you are in any personal danger. Has anybody threatened you?”

  “No. Of course not. Would they do that?”

  “I sincerely hope not, but this kind of thing brings out the crazy in people. I've received several threats. So far I haven't told anybody about that because I know as soon as I do the company will make me give that information to the cops and then I'll have to have a body-guard and maybe even go stay in a
hotel. If you want to take some time off, that can be arranged. How about going to stay with your dad until this blows over?”

  “No! I don't want to go to Dad's. Let me think about taking some time off. I hadn't thought about that. I wouldn't mind hiding in the house.

  “Do you get threats often?”

  Bev made a face and shrugged. “Sometimes. Usually when there's a big fire in a small community and people die.

  “What's your other piece of news.”

  “I made the squad.”

  Bev jumped out of bed and hugged her daughter. “Congratulations.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Yes, I do. It's something you wanted, and you worked hard for it. Good job.”

  Emily smiled. “I love how you can appear to be so genuinely happy about something you think is so stupid.”

  “You know I don't care one way or the other about the cheer leading squad. I am happy to see you set goals and achieve them. I'm proud of you. Go to bed. You want me to take you to school tomorrow and talk to the principal?”

  “No. I have a really good relationship with my English teacher. I think I'd like to run the idea by him and see what he thinks. I don't want to be a chicken and I don't want it to look like we feel guilty about something. I think that could be bad for both of us. Let me talk to Mr. Simonton. You and I can talk again tomorrow night.”

  “Okay. Goodnight.” She kissed her daughter and patted her butt.