by James Ross
“And you’ll listen to your lawyer and not your wife?” Nora crowed. “What kind of fool are you?”
Walter did all that he could do. He had to sit at the dinner table and take it. His wife was right. He should have listened to her years before. “Let’s focus on getting out of this mess,” he conceded. “I’m going to need your support.”
Nora glared across the table at her husband. “Get away from the guy and stay away from the guy! Hopefully we won’t lose our house and you won’t have to go to prison!”
Chapter Sixty
The Morton heirs were having a tough time in court keeping their civil claim alive. They had sued Lew, Walter, and the golf course corporation. So, in effect, J Dub, as a minority partner, was being sued. He didn’t know about the specifics of the lawsuit because all notices had gone to the managing general partner. He only was aware of what Lew had told him . . . that it was some sort of misunderstanding. Lew had hired Grady Patterson to represent the golf course and be his personal defense attorney in that matter.
Grady Patterson was connected into the good ’ole boy network around town. He was in his mid-sixties and had shared cocktails with nearly everyone in the state. He had been introduced to Lew several years earlier by Raymond Parsons. In fact, Grady had been over to Lew’s house once for an afternoon of target practice and drinks.
The heirs had claimed in their suit that the property had been fraudulently transferred. However, the transfer of the property had taken place before Margaret Morton’s death. To combat the heirs and their claim, Grady needed to get the case moved to a more favorable venue and doing so was the first item on his agenda.
“Good morning! May I speak to the Honorable Judge Rowland please?” Grady smiled smugly into the phone and waited for the legal secretary to connect her boss.
“Judge Troy Rowland.”
“Well, good mornin’ Troy! How the heck are you?” Grady leaned back in his comfortable but squeaky leather chair and chit-chatted with his good friend. After exchanging cordial greetings Grady got right down to business. “You know that plot of land where we always go duck hunting together?”
“Sure, we’ve gone there for years.”
“Anyway, that property is owned by Lew Zerrmann and he’s got himself in a little bit of a jam,” Grady continued to explain.
“Yeah, well, it happens,” Judge Rowland replied.
“He’s being sued and we’re not particularly fond of the court and judge where the case has been assigned. I’m going to file a motion to recuse the presiding judge,” Grady put into plain words.
“That’s the proper thing to do,” Judge Rowland acknowledged.
“But I was wondering, since he’s a friend and a client, if your court wouldn’t want to get involved in this little civil misunderstanding,” Grady suggested.
“Ha, ha, ha, ha,” Judge Rowland chuckled. “You know the way the system works, Grady. It’ll be assigned after your motion is granted.”
“But you know what I’m talking about,” Grady implied. “If that motion is granted Troy, then I just want you to git ’er done!”
“I’ll see if I can help you,” Judge Rowland laughed. Grady hung up the phone and checked his first to-do off his list.
With a lot of confidence a few weeks later, Grady sauntered into Judge Rowland’s court to argue that the Statute of Limitations for the Morton heirs had expired. Denny Sneed argued that the heirs were an extension of Margaret Morton based on the last predicate act, but Judge Rowland saw it differently. The case was thrown out of court on a technicality and Lewferd E. Zerrmann felt the winds blow a dark cloud away. The civil case against him and Prairie Winds Golf Course was dismissed.
Denny Sneed and the Morton heirs could see the politics in action when the motion was requested and granted. Even though he and the heirs were greatly disappointed, they still had the suit filed against Walter Hancock alive and well in a different jurisdiction. Denny had filed a separate lawsuit against Walter Hancock for accounting malpractice. Even though Lew and the golf course corporation escaped round one unscathed, Denny was going to try with all of his might to go after Walter Hancock.
Walter had done work for Vern Morton prior to his death. He also had done work for Margaret Morton before she succumbed to old age. In addition, Walter had done work for the Morton Estate which included Lucille Morton and her son, Matt. It was going to be a lot tougher for Walter to get the lawsuit against him thrown out of court on a technicality, despite the number of years that had passed.
Denny stayed with it. He was tenacious. He had filed the malpractice lawsuit against Walter in a different court in a different county. After months and months of filings and motions Denny finally received a favorable ruling. Walter and his attorney, Donald Farrell, weren’t as successful as Lew Zerrmann. In 1996, the time had finally come for Walter Hancock to be deposed.
~ ~ ~
Spring of 1996 . . .
Walter, and his attorney Donald Farrell, had some important decisions to make. They were at a crossroads. It was one thing to plead the Fifth Amendment in criminal proceedings when the IRS came knocking. It was a far different scenario in civil proceedings. Since there was no criminal charge in a civil action, pleading the Fifth was not an option.
Denny started the questioning for the deposition. “In looking at the balance sheet for the estate could you show me where the entry is for the funds that were received from the sale of the golf course property?”
“No,” Walter replied.
“Can you show me what capital gains taxes were paid on the sale of that property?”
“No.”
“Can you tell me why the land is no longer listed as an asset?”
“No.”
“Since the land is no longer an asset, can you tell me why the cash assets didn’t increase accordingly?”
“No.”
“Is it because you didn’t receive any cash for the transfer of that asset?” Denny asked.
“No, no, that wouldn’t be the case,” Walter stammered.
“Can you produce a copy of the check to show that the estate received payment for that property?”
“I’m sure that it is around here somewhere.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know. The sale of that property took place at a busy time of the year for me. I must have misplaced it.”
“Yet, in looking at the balance sheet for the estate the cash position of the estate remained the same, is that correct?”
Walter was clearly getting backed into a corner. “I don’t know why that would be.”
Denny had gotten what he was after. It was obvious that Walter had not received any money for the sale of the golf course land. “If the money didn’t go to the estate, did you keep the funds?” Denny probed.
“No! Absolutely not!” Walter shouted.
“Then where did the money go?”
“I don’t know. There has to be an oversight somewhere.”
“Is it normal for you to misplace several million dollars?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that.”
“That is what it looks like the balance sheet is suggesting, don’t you agree?”
“I’m going to need some time to review the documents,” Walter mumbled. He plainly wanted to stall.
Denny thought that it might be appropriate to shift gears. “Can you produce a copy of the contract?”
“I’m sure that it is around somewhere.”
“Why did you not give a copy of the contract to the heirs of the estate?”
“I’m sure that they received one.”
“Who was the purchaser of the property?
“Lew Zerrmann.”
“What title company closed the transaction?”
“FARMBELT ABSTRACT AND TITLE COMPANY.”
“Who was the principal owner of the title company?”
“The Pierce brothers. Mainly George Pierce,” Walter whimpered.
“Where is George Pierce today?”
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“I don’t know. He left town.”
“Can you produce a copy of the cashier’s check from FARMBELT ABSTRACT AND TITLE COMPANY?”
“Yes, I am sure that I can.”
Can you produce a copy of the contract between the estate and Lew Zerrmann?”
“Yes, I am sure that it is available.”
“You were the executor of the estate, weren’t you?
“Yes.”
“I would very much like for you to submit those documents into evidence. Do you agree to do so?”
“Yes, I will,” Walter said.
Denny had scored some points on behalf of the estate.
Chapter Sixty-One
Later During the 1996 Summer Golf Season . . .
The time had come for J Dub to have another meeting with Booker. It seemed as if the IRS investigators wanted information from him every other day. Some of the data that they wanted were copies of documents that J Dub could easily obtain.
The lounge at LUCKY LADY LANES seemed like the perfect spot for a clandestine meeting between Booker and J Dub. It had worked before and it would probably work again. There was something about the smell of stale beer and a smoky haze in a dark corner that excited J Dub. It made him feel like he was instrumental in catching a crook.
“How’s the investigation going?” J Dub inquired as he placed a folder of documents on the table in front of Booker.
Booker shrugged. “We need more information.”
J Dub produced a sawed off golf club and presented it to Booker. “Here. This will help you teach your eight-year old the basics. It’s never too early to learn how to swing.”
Booker’s glowing smile lit up the corner. “He’s already asking me when I’m going to take him to the driving range.”
“This little club will help his eye-hand coordination.”
“Just the excitement of hitting real balls off of real grass is better than the plastic balls and plastic clubs off of carpet,” Booker explained.
“We all have to start somewhere.”
“It’s the same with us when we start one of these investigations,” Booker offered. “The information that you’re giving us will lead us in the right direction. Some of it is exactly what we are looking for. Some of it opens up other areas that need to be looked at more closely.”
“I’m glad that I can help.”
Booker pried, “How could you not know what was going on?”
“You mean with the business?” J Dub asked. Booker nodded. “First off, I was probably too trusting. Secondly, he told me to work the pro shop from dawn to dusk and keep my nose out of the checkbook,” J Dub put into plain words.
“So he could rob you blind?” Booker asked.
“Hey, he fooled you too,” J Dub countered.
Booker raised his eyebrows and conceded the obvious.
“You know, I’m a licensed golf pro,” J Dub continued. “I’m not an accounting whiz. My job is to serve the public. I need to keep the complaints down on the golf course and keep the pace of play flowing smoothly.”
“Didn’t you wonder why you never got a year-end bonus?”
“I’ve always wondered where the money went. But at the end of the year we never seemed to have any,” J Dub clarified.
“That may have been in part to some creative accounting,” Booker said.
“I’m beginning to realize that,” J Dub admitted. “Can you help me with some other stuff?”
“It depends. If it is about the investigation, I won’t be able to comment,” Booker stated.
“No, it’s about IRS stuff,” J Dub acknowledged.
“Try me.”
“You know that I’m trying to buy the place,” J Dub admitted. Booker nodded. “We’re being sued, so he indicated that nothing can happen until that is settled,” J Dub disclosed.
“That’s understandable.”
“Look, I’ve got twenty percent of the stock in the corporation. The last time that we talked Lew told me that he might want to spin off or spin up or split up the stock of the corporation,” J Dub rambled. “What’s he referring to?”
“It’s a move that he probably wants to make to lower his tax liability,” Booker explained.
“What’s the process?” J Dub inquired.
“The first thing that he’ll probably do is contact us to get what is called a private letter ruling,” Booker divulged.
“What is that?”
“Basically, he requests that we make a ruling on his tax liability before he makes the transaction,” Booker revealed. “Depending on what we tell him, he will decide whether or not he will spin off assets or split up the stock.”
“Knowing him he will do whatever it takes to pay the least amount of taxes,” J Dub declared.
“You may not have to worry about it.”
“Why is that?”
“He’s dealing with us right now. The time might not be good for him to ask us for a ruling on his tax liability,” Booker disclosed.
“It’s another thing that I have to deal with,” J Dub lamented. “I need for you to help me.”
“If you want me to help you, then you’ll have to help yourself,” Booker purposely let slip.
“I’m doing all that I can,” J Dub confessed. “What do you mean?”
“If we can’t get either one of them to talk, then we’re going to have problems,” Booker declared.
“What sort of problems?”
“All the evidence will be circumstantial. That makes intent tough to prove.”
“What does that have to do with me helping myself?”
“We need for you to get either Lew or Walter to talk,” Booker blurted.
Chapter Sixty-Two
J Dub and Marcia had work to do for an important catering job. They knew that they would have to work in the kitchen preparing food. So they took the opportunity to invite Curt over for a question and answer session to try to kill two birds with one stone.
Marcia sliced up assorted vegetables for a tray that she intended to put on display and rationed limited tasks to J Dub and Curt. Several baskets needed to be prepared and Marcia figured the guys could load them with bananas, apples, oranges, grapes, and cherries.
“Could you get him to put his offer to you in writing?” Curt asked.
“That’s not the way he does business, Curt. You know that,” J Dub answered.
“Then I don’t think that he is too serious about selling you the course,” Curt replied.
“He’ll never sell it to J Dub,” Marcia interjected.
Whenever Marcia started talking negatively about the golf course, J Dub would get perturbed. “ . . . Why not? I’ve got the option to buy it,” J Dub said.
“He doesn’t care about you, Honey,” Marcia stated emphatically dampening J Dub’s hopes with her dose of reality.
“If he won’t let me exercise my option, then at least I have the right of first refusal to match any offer that he gets,” J Dub stressed.
“By looking at the numbers, I can’t imagine any other fool paying that kind of price for it,” Curt offered. “If they do, then it won’t be a golf course anymore. The next guy will be paying everything to the bank and is liable to go broke.”
J Dub voiced his opinion. “If I can’t operate it as a golf course, then I don’t know if I even want it.”
“You can always take the land and sell it to a developer for a subdivision,” Curt suggested.
“There’s too much of me in the place for that,” J Dub conceded. “It looks like whatever he decides to do will most likely be whatever costs him the least in taxes.”
“Then don’t count on him selling it to you,” Marcia repeated. “I know that isn’t what you wanted to hear, but that is what my instincts are telling me. C’mon, J Dub, I know you’re a bit naive about all of this but you need to listen to reason.”
“J Dub still has rights that are spelled out in the buy/sell agreement,” Curt stated. He didn’t want Marcia to rain on J Dub’s parade
too much.
“Nothing is going to happen until some sort of resolution comes out of the lawsuit,” J Dub declared.
“Which reminds me,” Curt advised, “if he was dishonest with you concerning the financial statements then I wonder what else he was untruthful about.”
J Dub’s attention was aroused. “What else could there be?”
“A lot of things,” Curt responded. “The appraisal could be skewed, the title work might be messed up, or the survey may well be inaccurate. The buy/sell agreement could have a loophole in it. We need to talk to some people and try to find out a little about who this guy is.”
“I think that it’s time to get an attorney,” Marcia recommended.
“I don’t want to spend a lot of money on one,” J Dub said.
“I’ve told you before that a lot of times they are worth their weight in gold,” Curt stated. “We should at least get one so that we can ask some basic questions.”
“You can talk to Hank Lowery,” Marcia suggested. “We go to church with him and I’m good friends with his wife.”
“Lew owes you a fiduciary duty,” Curt interrupted. “He has to be truthful with you.”
Marcia’s suggestion about talking to Hank Lowery suited J Dub just fine. He knew Hank and liked the guy. “It doesn’t hurt to get some opinions,” J Dub conceded.
“Now you two put that stuff behind you,” Marcia declared as she started putting vegetables on a tray. “Help me finish this. We can’t mess this up tomorrow.”
J Dub smiled and said, “It’ll go fine.”
“I hope so. Every big shot in town will be there.”
“Do you want me to borrow the “Big Shot” music from the course?” J Dub offered.
“No!” Marcia exclaimed. “Don’t even think about that!”
J Dub leaned over and gave his wife a peck on the lips. He wanted to assure her that things would go as planned. More importantly he wanted to give her assurances that the purchase of the golf course would happen.
Chapter Sixty-Three
The next day, J Dub left the golf course in the middle of the afternoon. He drove home and helped Marcia load the food and all of the accessories into the car. She was noticeably nervous. Everyone on the local “Who’s Who” list was to be at the banquet. Marcia wanted to make sure that every little detail was carried out to perfection.
