Chapter 17
Pariente and his team arrived right on time the next morning. Bev and Paul were waiting for them. She could tell that Paul was nervous, but she was gratified to know that he hid it well and she didn't think Pariente would notice. Pariente's group made themselves at home in the conference room, and Pariente made something of a show of being the man in charge. Bev could tell that Paul got the message loud and clear. She was pleased to see that, while he didn't like having the other attorney lord it over him in his own office, he accepted the situation with grace. When Pariente's team was distracted digging out their laptops, Bev winked at Paul and smiled. He made a face and stuck out his tongue.
First they spent a couple of hours reviewing the file, asking questions and making notes on further investigation needed or experts that might be required to testify on certain points.
Then they took a ride around the town. Paul drove his SUV and he and Bev took turns narrating the story of history and culture the community, which would be an important part of the story they would have to tell at any trials.
Finally, at the end of their tour, Paul pulled up in front of the restaurant, which still had a guard posted in front. Bev told them what she had seen the night of the fire. She had told that story so many times to so many people, she had the narration down pat. She noticed that both Pariente and one of his paralegals made a note when she finished. She guessed she had just landed a spot on the witness list.
After that, they went back to the office where lunch was delivered. The Mazzoli's joined them at that point. Bev had suggested that perhaps they would feel more comfortable if they had the chance to warm up to Pariente and his team over food and chit-chat instead of diving right into the story of the fire.
As it turned out Dominic Pariente grew up in an Italian family that ran a restaurant in Pittsburgh. He and the Mazzolis hit it off so well that Claudia told them the next time they were going to have a meeting not to mess around with ordering lunch from the deli across the street. She said she'd cater the luncheon with some good old home-made Italian fare. Bev and Paul both relaxed. She knew that the two of them would probably often feel left out as the Mazzolis bonded with Pariente. That was as it should be. The Mazzolis already knew, liked and trusted Paul. But, they needed to be able to put their entire future into Pariente's hands if any of the cases went to trial. Bev figured that an added side benefit to the Italian connection was that they'd eat well as they prepared for trial.
Bev liked the way Pariente had divided up responsibility for the case. One of the paralegals was evidently in charge of the paper trail. Her laptop contained a database that indexed the file materials any which way might prove necessary. The other paralegal was evidently in charge of the care and feeding of the insured. She made sure to make friends with Claudia at the very outset. She did a great job of expressing solidarity and sympathy as well as projecting strength and encouragement. She would be the rock for Claudia to lean on. Bev noticed that her last name was Fracelli; she was pretty sure that was not coincidental.
There was still a bit of prickly-ness in the relationship between Paul and Pariente, but Bev expected that to ease when Pariente convinced Paul that he, too, had the clients' best interests at heart.
By the time the meeting broke up in the late afternoon, Bev knew that Pariente was absolutely the man for the job if any of these cases was going to go to trial. She could tell by his demeanor as they parted that Paul thought so as well. All in all, the meeting had been a smashing success.
Rita wanted a report on the meeting. Bev called her as soon as Pariente's team had left to ask if she wanted to set up a meeting in Dayton.
“I don't think that's necessary. Let me get Russ on the phone and we can just chat.” Rita located Russ and in only a few minutes the three of them were on the line together. Bev filled them in on the meeting with the insureds and Pariente. After she gave the rundown on that, McGavin said, “I think somebody needs to talk to Tim Peters. We need to establish a line of communication with him.”
Bev said, “I already did that. I've worked with Tim before. He's a solid guy.”
Rita said, “Don't you think Dominic should handle those communications?”
“I am sure he will once he gets his arms around this, but I think I'm on good ground for now. I want Tim to know that Dominic is our trial guy and that he will put on a very good case. I also want him to know that I'm holding the checkbook.”
“Is there any chance that Peters will be able to reign in all the claimants and their lawyers.”
“He knows it's going to be important to do that, but it won't be easy. One of his clients is the Prescott estate. Most of the family was wiped out but there's a toddler grand baby who's going to inherit the whole estate. The family attorney's in charge, and he's a greedy bastard, according to Peters. I want to underscore the irony of a plaintiff's lawyer calling another attorney a greedy bastard.” They all laughed, but without any real amusement.
“To make matters worse – or maybe better, I'm not sure: Sid Carmichael represents certain of the claimants who are in the hospital.”
Rita interjected, “I thought that asshole was retired!”
McGavin laughed, “What rock did he crawl out from under?”
“According to Tim, Sid lives part time in Miami and part time in the Islands somewhere, so he's evidently sunning himself on a lotta rocks like all his other iguana kinfolk. We all know that Sid can be a jerk. I have to tell you, I rather like the guy. He's funny as hell, and for all his pretense of being a slimy lawyer, he's actually pretty good at what he does. His specialty is getting absolutely as many people to the table as he can in order to get his hands in every possible pocket. He'll dream up all kinds of product liability claims to file. He may even try to file medical malpractice claims against doctors and hospitals if there are any complications with the victims' course of treatment. In this case, inviting more people to the settlement party will benefit us.”
Rita made a derisive noise that was somewhere between a moan and a snort, “Yeah, you're right but keep him away from me, and don't tell him I'm involved in this case at all. There is ancient bad blood between us.”
Bev smiled into the air and said, “I'll buy the beer when you get ready to tell that story.”
McGavin chimed in, “I'd like to be there.”
Both women said, “No boys at girl beer bashes.”
McGavin asked, “How many plaintiff's attorney's are there, and can Tim and Sid control them?”
“There are six besides Tim and Sid. I don't think that Tim or Sid or any combination of the two of them can control anything. What they can do is to explain the situation and educate the pups about how these things work once somebody puts some money on the table.”
“That means Tim and Sid will get the biggest bite.”
“Personally, the way I see it, the people who are in the hospital should get the lion's share of the money. They are the ones with the ongoing bills.”
“It's no accident that Sid's only representing clients who survived the fire and are undergoing burn treatment.”
“Of course, Sid's going to only take cases where he can make money. He'll do okay for his clients.”
There was a long silence. Nobody wanted to raise the question of when they would offer up its limits. Rita asked, “Exactly where did you leave it with Peters?”
“I told him that I would entertain reasonable settlement offers, but that officially I am still investigating the fire and I am not prepared to put any money on the table. Furthermore, I told him that once I believe the cops will exonerate Mazzoli completely as a suspect in the fire, I'm prepared to argue that Mazzoli has minimal exposure from a liability standpoint. He never failed a fire inspection. While his agent repeatedly recommended that he sprinkler the place and buy umbrella coverage, the carrier never required him to do so. I told him that I see Mazzoli as a victim here. If he is guilty of anything at all,
it's simple negligence, which pales in comparison with whatever the hell was going on in the mind of the person who set the fire.”
McGavin laughed, “You told him that you might out and out deny the claims on the basis of no legal liability on the part of the insured.”
“I didn't say I was going to do that, but I left the door open to get him thinking along the lines that any portion of the damages attributable to Mazzoli must be a very small percentage of the total.”
“Bev, if you can pull that off, I'll give you a raise.”
Bev said, “Rita, you're my witness.” She said, “I don't know that I can pull it off, but it's the only hope I have to get the plaintiff's to take the small amount of money we have to offer and give us a full release.”
Rita said, “Actually, it seems to me that it's a very good argument.”
Bev said, “It's a damned good argument. The Mazzoli's didn't set the fire. Somebody else did. The Mazzoli's ran a clean operation. Did you know they only had one claim in more than fifty years? They were in financial trouble not because they are bad business people. They were victims of the bad economy that left their customers without the money to eat out as often as they had in the past. They were victims of the person who set the fire and burned down the business that had supported their family for half a century. They lost their livelihood along with family members, employees and friends in the fire. They are not responsible for the injuries and deaths that took place in that restaurant, and I've so successfully convinced myself of that, I'll be arguing that point during every conversation I have with Tim. The Mazzolis lost more in that fire than anybody. We absolutely cannot let the plaintiff's take the high ground.”
“Dammit, Bev, you'd have made a great lawyer.”
“Russ, I wish I had a nickel for every time somebody has told me that. The people who have said it have almost always been lawyers, which gives the compliment some meaning. My response is that, while I might be smart enough, I'd never make it as a lawyer if I had to spend all my time with others of the same ilk. Personally, I prefer hanging out with cops, PI's and forensics investigators.”
Rita laughed, “Geez, Russ, I think we were just insulted.”
“Perhaps we should change the subject.”
Bev said, “Let's just end the whole conversation. I'll keep you posted on my conversations with Peters. For now I think I'll control that conversation, at least until Dominic finds out its happening and puts a stop to it. I think I'll keep in very close touch with Mr. Peters from here on out.”
Rita said, “That sounds like a plan. You keep him thinking about how little legal liability your insured has for this claim.”
Bev chuckled, “I'm kind of leaning towards getting him in the mood to offer to represent the Mazzolis in any civil actions that might be filed against Denworth if and when we find him. That would be just delicious.”
Rita said, “That would be a conflict of interest.”
“Not if I have a full and final release and you agree to waive the conflict.”
Rita said, “Don't make any promises, but that's an interesting option.”
“Peters is in it for the money. If Denworth has any, I say we point all the claimants at him.”
“As I said, tread lightly around that, but by all means keep hammering away at the no-liability line.”
They clicked off and Bev looked around her office: there were no papers anywhere, just her laptop on the desk. She shut it down and headed for the door. Paul was reading something on his computer. He looked up at her and grinned. “You were talking kind of loud and I was eavesdropping, so I heard every word. I'm going to toodle around in the Ohio statutes and case law and look at what defenses we could use if we want to argue Ron and Claudia were not negligent.”
“Any luck?”
“Maybe. I found a case that held that the insured's decision not to purchase additional coverages recommended by his agent could be considered a business decision, not negligence. That case is kind of old, and I have to follow up to see if it's been overturned or modified. I'll do some digging. I really don't have that much else to do. There aren't any clients beating down my door.”
“Don't worry about it. They think you're very busy now. They'll come back when this is all over. I think you'll do very well in this town when all is said and done.”
“I hope so. Right now the money you're paying me is keeping me off the streets. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when you pull the plug.”
“Worry about that later. Right now, I think you'd do very well to spend all the time you need on Westlaw. And I'll authorize payment for the research costs.”
“How will we present that to Pariente?”
“I think you give it to him telling him that I asked you to do the research before he was on board. Share it with him as a professional courtesy.”
She went home and put on dinner. Emily came in, distracted and withdrawn. Over dinner, Bev asked her what was the matter. Emily told her that she had had a bad day. She'd had a test in biology and she didn't think she did well. On top of that a couple of the football players hassled her about being the “weird cheerleader”. And, as if that weren't enough to totally ruin the day, on the bus home several students near her hassled her about the inordinate amount of time her mother was taking on settling the claim. They regurgitated the anti-insurance company rot that they evidently heard from their parents and/or from TV commercials of plaintiffs' attorneys.
“Mom, aren't you finished investigating yet? What's taking so long?”
“You know I can't discuss the details. I can tell you that I am essentially finished with my investigation, but we're waiting for the cops to make the results of their investigation public. I'll pay the claim based on the results of my investigation, but the lawsuits will be filed and indictments will be handed down based on what the cops conclude. They will not be rushed. I don't dare put up my money until they announce the results of their investigation. They have investigative powers I don't have.”
Emily nodded and pushed her food around on the plate, “That's what I thought. I didn't say anything to the kids. I pretended I didn't hear them. But, they knew I heard them. I think that kind of thing is going to get worse.”
“It shouldn't be much longer now. I think we're getting close.”
“Can't be too soon for me.”
“Are you sure you feel safe? If you don't want to go stay with your dad, we could arrange a visit to Chicago to stay with your Gram and Aunt Paula.”
Emily laughed, “Thanks, Mom, but the truth of the matter is that I don't feel I'm in danger. I don't want to go to Dad's house. Those little kids drive me nuts. And, as much fun as Gram and Aunt Paula can be, to be honest they make me feel like the mature old lady in the crowd, and I'm not up for that right now, either. I think I'd rather stay here with you.”
“I understand. The other option might be for you to go visit Becca in Phoenix.”
“Why would your best friend who's hardly seen me since I was a baby be willing to let me come and stay with her?”
“Because she's my best friend and she cares about our well-being. She's not as boring as your dad. She's way more mature and grounded in reality than my mother and Aunt Paula. She also has a rich husband and a big, fancy house in a gated community in Scottsdale. You might have a really nice time.”
“I'll keep it in mind if things get any worse at school. Could you work it out with the principal?”
“I'm sure I could. You could keep up with your assignments and turn them in by email, like a kid who's sick. Think about it.”
“I will.”
Cici called after dinner to report that the obstetrician whose daughter's nose Prescott had botched evidently had a patient with connections to organized crime in Cleveland. She thought that might be significant in that he certainly had motive to try to hurt Prescott and his family. She thought maybe he had the opportunity to do something about it, as well. Bev made a
note of that information to feed to the cops, and thanked Cici. After she clicked off, she went straight to bed.
Bev lay in bed listening to the sound of a distant train whistle, pondering the few facts she knew for sure and the variety of potential tentacles of inquiry that had grown out of all the questions that had been raised. Most of the time she loved her job. This was not one of them. It was too close to home. She found herself caring too much about the people. She knew she was dangerously close to losing her objectivity and she should ask MCIC to reassign the claim. However, she feared that if another adjuster took control at this delicate juncture, the whole thing would go to hell. For now, she believed she had to stick with it. She believed that she was uniquely qualified to finish the dance with Peters and bring this one home without litigation against her company. Even if she ultimately failed to settle the claim, she wanted to try.
After the Fire Page 17
