Cash Call, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 5

by William Manchee

  Chapter 14

  Lawyer's Lottery

   Personal injury law had never been attractive to me. It wasn't that I was immune to the lure of big money, but I'd never been one to solicit business. I liked people coming to me and asking for help. That's why this case felt so good. It had been dropped in my lap and nobody could accuse me of ambulance chasing. I thought maybe after so many years of financial struggle, God was smiling down at me, so I wasn't going to blow it.

   Keyur Ravi came to my office with his uncle, Amit. He was of slight build, had curly black hair, and wore glasses. His uncle was an inch shorter and obviously liked to eat well. After Jodie got them some tea, she led them into the conference room where I met them. I was a little nervous because I was sure they had been contacted by numerous, more experienced, PI attorneys and would be carefully scrutinizing my every word.

   "I was very sorry to learn of your father's death, Key," I said. "It must have been a terrible shock."

   "Yes, I've been very sad lately," Key said.

   "I can imagine. Were you and your father close?"

   Key didn't respond.

  "The divorce, you know, it made it very difficult," Amit interjected.

   "Of course. Divorces are kind of unusual in your culture, aren't they?" I asked.

   "Yes, it was a terrible thing. Very destructive for the family," Amit said.

   "So, how did the funeral go?"

   "It went very well, thank you," Amit said. "Your friend, Mr. Stuart, was so helpful in making all the arrangements. He has been so generous. We are eternally grateful."

   "Yes, Stuart's a great guy. Is there any other family?"

   "No, Anant was divorced," Amit said, "Our mother is dead, and our father is back in Bombay. I'm the only living sibling, you know. Our sister died very young."

   "Well, under the Texas Wrongful Death Act the victim's father would have a cause of action as well as any children."

   "He's an old feeble man who has no use for money," Amit replied.

   "Well, maybe so, but he does have a right to be a plaintiff in the suit. If he doesn't want the money maybe he would assign his cause of action to you or someone else in the family."

   "I'll try to talk to him and see what he wants to do."

   "Let me know and I'll prepare the paperwork for him to sign."

   "Okay then, so how do we proceed now?" Amit asked. "We've already had three lawyers call us on the telephone wanting to represent Key. Yesterday, two came by our house offering to handle his case."

   I shook my head. "Ambulance chasers. They must have been monitoring the police radio or saw Anant brought into the emergency room. I've got a contingent fee contract right here for Key to sign."

   I handed Key and Amit the contracts and explained, "Essentially the contract says that we will prosecute the case through trial if necessary, but you don't pay us anything unless we recover money for you. If we recover money after we file a lawsuit then we get one-third of the recovery and you get two-thirds. You're responsible for all costs of court. However, we will advance those funds for you if you cannot afford to pay them yourself. If the case is appealed then we get forty percent and you get sixty."

   "What if we don't have to file a suit?" Amit asked.

   "Well, then we get twenty-five percent and you all get seventy-five, but that's unlikely in a wrongful death case."

   "How much money do you think I'll get?" Key asked.

   "Well, that's hard to say. Each case is different. A lot depends on the amount and kind of insurance that the defendant has. If the insurance is not enough to cover your damages, then the value and extent of the defendant's assets become important."

   "What do you mean? I don't understand. I thought when you got a judgment that was how much you got," Amit said.

   "No, unfortunately that is not the case. You may get a million dollar judgment but if the defendant only has a hundred thousand dollars of insurance and no non-exempt assets then you'll only actually get a hundred thousand dollars."

   "How much insurance does the defendant have?"

   "We don't know yet. We haven't seen a police report and haven't talked to the defendant yet. However, he was driving a late model Porsche and comes from a wealthy family so that's a good sign."

   Amit handed the contract back to me and said, "This will be fine. The other attorney's wanted 40% even if we settled out of court and 50% if a suit was filed."

   "Well, that's the standard for personal injury attorneys but it seemed a little greedy to me. I must advise you, though, I'm not a personal injury specialist and I've never handled a wrongful death case before."

   "That's okay. Mr. Stuart told me all about you. If you can handle a murder case, you should be able to handle this case, right?"

   "Yeah. I would think so."

   "Well, now that I've met you, I know why Mr. Stuart likes you. You seem like an honorable man and, if Mr. Stuart says we should trust you then, we will trust you, right Key?"

   Key looked at Amit and nodded, "I just want the man who killed my father to be punished. I don't care so much about the money."

   I smiled. That was a familiar refrain from clients but it was a lie. It was all about money. A good personal injury case was like winning the lottery and clients knew it. If it wasn't about money, Key wouldn't have been in my office. He would have been at the DA's office making sure the bastard who killed his father got prosecuted.

   "Well, the district attorney will be handling the criminal case. The only punishment we can ask for is punitive damages if we can prove gross negligence or intentional misconduct."

   Key signed the contract and handed it to me. I smiled and said, "Thank you. We'll get right on this and keep you posted. In a couple weeks, I'm going to need to spend some time with you, Key, to learn all about your relationship with your father. We've got to show the jury how you've been damaged by his loss. I'll call you and make an appointment."

   A couple of things Key had said bothered me. He'd sidestepped all my questions about his relationship with his father and, what was this nonsense about his grandfather being too old to care about money? I knew most people in India were poor and the prospect of getting a large sum of money would be something of great interest to most. But I was feeling too good to about my financial fortunes right then to let a few anomalies in the case get me down, particularly after Marvin Schwartz had finally come through with someone to sell my Peruvian pottery. I could feel a shift in my financial fortunes.

   Driving down to Fair Park the next day brought back memories of the Texas State Fair. Every year the kids got a day off from school to go, so Rebekah and I always took them. They loved the rides, and Rebekah and I loved the food and exhibits. As I pulled into the parking lot of the Dallas Museum of Natural History, I felt uneasy. What if my Peruvian pottery was nothing but junk? I considered turning around and going back to the office, but then I'd have to face Jodie.

   After parking my car and taking the box out of the trunk, I went inside and asked the first person I saw where I could find Melanie Dixon. They showed me to a conference room where Melanie had set up a temporary office.

   "Come in,"Melanie said.

   Melanie was at the end of a long glass conference table. The first thing I noticed was her dress was slit down the side exposing a long, slender leg beneath the glass. It was so magnificent I was immediately mesmerized. When I looked up she was smiling. I'd been caught.

   "Nice table," I said feeling embarrassed.

   She smiled wryly,"Right. . . . You must be Stan Turner?"

   "That's me."

   "Excuse the mess. I'm just working here for a few weeks."

   She explained in her line of work she didn't have a permanent office. She traveled around the world and often set up temporary offices in hotels, museums or universities.

   "So, let's see what you have there," she said.

   I put the box on the table, and she opened it. She stu
ck her hand inside and pulled out a large vase wrapped in tissue paper. She opened it carefully and began studying it.

   "Well, Mr. Turner. This is quite a nice piece. Marvin said he'd given you some nice stuff, but these are even better than I expected?"

   "Good."

   "Have you examined them very closely?" she asked.

   "No. Not really. I just stuck them up on the top of my bookshelf as conversation pieces."

   She nodded and stuck her fingers down into the vase examining the inner surfaces. After a minute she removed her hand and smiled.

   "So, is this stuff worth anything?" I asked hopefully.

   "Yes, I should think so."

   "How much?"

   "Well, that's hard to say. There isn't a formal market for these relics. There are people out there who do buy them, but you've got to find them and take bids. It's not an easy task.

   "Oh,"I said trying to hide my disappointment.

  She wrapped the vase back up and placed it carefully in the box. Then she sat back down. This time her long skirt opened even more exposing both legs and a lot of her thigh. My eyes couldn't help but to take in their beauty. I looked up at Melanie and swallowed hard, but this time she seemed oblivious to my wondering eyes.

   "But, if you would like, I'll contact a few people and see what the market looks like."

   "Would you? That would be great. Is this something you've done before?"

   "Yes, from time to time. I usually get a fifteen percent commission, if I find a buyer."

   "That seems fair."

   "Good. I'll get a contract together and call you when it's ready to sign."

   I gave her my card and stood up. She got up and escorted me out to the reception area. She offered me her hand and I shook it. It felt warm and soft. Then she put her other hand on top of mine and held it tightly. A surge of excitement jolted me. Finally, she let go.

   "I'm really glad I met you Stan. I think our relationship will turn out to be very profitable."

   I nodded and left elated at the prospect of unloading the pottery. But on the way home it wasn't the pottery that was on my mind. It was Melanie--those long luscious legs and her soft warm hands. She'd be a dangerous woman to work with and I just prayed I could keep the relationship strictly business.

   Later that day Pam, Don and Jim were scheduled to come in to finish telling me the Golden Dragon saga. Before they arrived, I decided to call Howard Hurst, head of the Franchise Division of the Golden Dragon Restaurants headquartered in Monterey, California. In the paperwork that Don had given me, I had found the Franchise Agreement that Hurst had signed on behalf of the franchisor. I figured he might have some insight into what had transpired. I got lucky and caught him in the office.

   Hurst said,"The first time I actually talked to Luther was just after he had received our franchise package. He was confused about how to proceed with the franchise and called to get some direction."

   "What was he confused about?"

   "He wanted to know when the $50,000 franchise fee had to be paid, how the equipment financing worked, and the approval process for the location."

   "So were you able to answer his questions?" I asked.

   "Sure, I explained everything in detail and he seemed satisfied."

   "Do you think after your explanations that he actually did understand how everything worked?"

   "Well, I was concerned about several items."

   "What were they?" I asked.

   "Legal, accounting, and management."

  "Could you explain?"

   "He said he didn't intend to consult an attorney. I figured that was his business, but we generally like our franchisees to have legal counsel to be sure they fully understand their duties and responsibilities. Secondly, he told me he intended to do his own accounting. That is an invitation for disaster. Accounting is very tricky and time consuming. I doubt he had the ability to do it properly or, if he did, he definitely wouldn't have the time. Which leads me to the final problem."

   "What's that?"

   "He thought he could manage the restaurant himself."

   "And you had concerns about that?"

   "I would say so. He had no experience and no idea how difficult it was to run a restaurant."

   "So with all these misgivings, why approve the franchise?"

   "He promised that if he felt he was in over his head, he would get help. I know he did hire a manager and an accountant fairly soon after the restaurant opened."

   "Did you have any other conversations with him?"

   "A couple days later, I got the completed application back with some proposed sites in Greenville. Luther had retained a broker who had helped him find the locations. I called Luther after our people had looked over the sites and asked him some questions. He explained that he knew the area well since his father used to be a preacher there. Apparently he studied theology and his family had hoped he'd follow in his father's footsteps. That didn't happen, I guess, because he liked women and liquor too much."

   "Really. He said that?" I asked.

   "Uh huh. He seemed kind of proud of it actually."

   I shrugged. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."