When Men Betray

by Webb Hubbell

  “Sir, your daughter can be pretty stubborn, but I guess you know that.”

  He had a good firm handshake. I looked at Beth, who was brimming with pleasure. “I understand you’re worried about my daughter.”

  “Yes, sir, I am.” He looked me straight in the eye.

  “Well, if she’s not safe, neither are you. Do your parents know you’re here?”

  “Yes, sir. And I’ve told them what’s happened.”

  “Well, you’re certainly welcome. And please call me Jack. No more ‘sirs.’

  We all relaxed a little, and I told him I used to throw a decent fastball—maybe I could show him my knuckleball one day. Beth had told me at dinner that he was the starting catcher for the Wildcats. She eased my fatherly concerns by telling me he had recently been accepted at Emory Medical in Atlanta.

  Beth was twirling her hair between two fingers, an old nervous habit. “You’re not mad? I really didn’t know he was coming till he showed up.”

  I played the stern dad for a moment, and then assured her it was okay. She didn’t look so happy when I mentioned he could bunk in with Clovis and Paul. In truth, I think we were equally pleased that Jeff was here.

  Beth and Jeff went down to the coffee shop to catch up, so I went back to work while Maggie updated Micki on the recent developments with Banks and Tuohey.

  I caught Jerry Prince on his cell phone, driving to the golf course. He was evasive, attributing his sudden decision to retire to a mutual agreement and confirming that Arcade was staying with Banks and Tuohey. I assured him I didn’t need clients, but felt I owed him a call. He laughed and said he’d heard I wasn’t going to make our meeting.

  Now that we were dancing, it was time to lead.

  “I find it hard to believe that on Saturday you offered me a plane ride from Little Rock, and now, two days later, you’ve retired and Arcade considers me a pariah. What’s going on?”

  Jerry hesitated, “Look, I’d like to tell you, but I can’t. I made the decision to retire and in return got a nice little parachute that’s dependent on an ironclad confidentiality agreement. My plan is to enjoy myself, play a lot of golf, drink a lot of gin, and maybe even travel for fun. And that’s it. You have an open invitation to join me at Burning Tree, but don’t ask me about business again. Be careful in Little Rock, Jack. … Remember, I told you to come home.”

  I gave Maggie and Micki an easy summary of the call: “They made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

  I told Micki about the donor list I’d shown Maggie and what had clicked for me last night. More than thirty oil executives, including the president of Arcade Oil, Don McAlvin, were major contributors to Russell’s campaigns as well as significant donors to the Townsend Arts Center.

  Maggie asked, “So you think Arcade is somehow connected to Woody’s behavior? You think Jerry Prince is involved?”

  “I hope not. Jerry’s been a good friend, so I’m going to assume he isn’t involved. He wasn’t on the donor or contributor list. Hopefully, when he realized something wasn’t kosher, he left on his own.” I stopped and thought for a moment. “What puzzles me is that Russell Robinson stood for everything Arcade opposed, yet for some reason, its executives gave him a whole lot of money.”

  “Maybe they were hedging their bets,” Maggie said. “I’m sure big companies give money to their allies and opponents alike. It keeps the doors open, right?”

  I nodded. “And whether this has anything to do with Woody is still an open question. All I know for sure is that Arcade wanted me out of Little Rock from the get-go.”

  As we sat in silence, something new occurred to me.

  “Micki, let me put what we’ve discovered in context—we’ve identified oil executives of five specific companies who contributed to Russell’s campaigns over a long period of time. At the same time, Russell was as pro-environment as they come for a politician. I know these five companies, and it doesn’t make sense that they supported him to the extent they did. None of them explore or drill for oil in the U.S. They’re all importers, so he couldn’t do them any special favors like giving them drilling rights in the state parks. And, as Maggie knows, they’re all currently under an antitrust consent order not to conspire to fix prices or anything else. We represented the biggest company of the five, Arcade Oil, in negotiating the order, and we know its business backward and forward.

  “I don’t think their contributions would have surprised Woody. Political contributions are routinely reported and made public—Beth found them all listed openly on the donor list. He also mentioned to me that Russell wanted to please his out-of-state backers. So why they gave money to Russell is a complete mystery. I’ve got to believe that Woody discovered something else about these donors and Russell that pushed him over the edge.

  “Don McAlvin, president of Arcade, can be as charming as a debutante, but he is ruthless when it comes to making money. He doesn’t give anybody money without a reason. If we can figure out what they were up to, we could be well on our way to figuring out why Woody carried a gun into the capitol that day. What I need is real evidence, and I don’t have much time.”

  Maggie and Micki pointed out plenty of flaws in my reasoning: The contributions were just big money hedging their bets. We had absolutely no evidence of collusion among the five companies. Even if Woody had discovered that the oil companies were up to no good, what was the link to Russell? Woody was Russell’s right arm; he should have known anything Russell did.

  Every point Maggie and Micki raised was valid, but not enough to sink my theory entirely—maybe because I didn’t have any other theories floating around.

  I had one more phone call to make before our meeting with Janis. I was pleased that I still remembered the DC phone number. Surprised to hear from me after so long, the senior lawyer at the Justice Department gave me some good-natured grief, but she knew where I was, so we got past the “do-you-remembers?” quickly. When I sketched out what I wanted, she told me I’d lost my mind, but said she’d look into it. She dryly noted that she’d know where to find me, since I appeared in the Washington Post every day.

  PAUL ESCORTED MICKI and me to Tucker’s office building to meet with Janis Harold.

  Lawyers come in all sizes and shapes, but Janis may be the shortest I’ve ever met. She couldn’t have been five feet tall—a little dumpling of a person with short, curly hair. However, what she lacked in stature she quickly made up for in personality.

  She introduced herself and shook hands, greeting Micki with, “I’ve heard of you. You sure are tall.”

  Micki opened her mouth to reply, but Janis had already sat down and begun talking.

  “I assume we’re here about Philip Cole—Woody. We’ve got lots to discuss, so let me tell you what I can. May I call you Jack?”

  I nodded yes.

  “And it’s Micki? Please call me Janis. Jack, you’ve been granted Woody’s unlimited power of attorney and are the trustee of the trust he created last week. I understand you are also his attorney. I assume Micki is your associate?”

  I corrected her. “Partner.”

  Janis looked mildly surprised, but continued. “Sorry to be nosy, but you can never be too careful. I represent a lot of businesses, charities, trusts, and campaigns. Most people don’t pay attention to who has the authority to speak and hear, but I do. Enough of that—we’re here to talk about Woody. I’ve known Woody for a long time. He hired Harold & Harold to represent every campaign he’s ever worked on.”

  I couldn’t help myself: “Is the other Harold …?”

  “Husband. Archibald Morgan Harold the third. We’ve been married for thirty-five years. Archie doesn’t meet with clients much. He’s more married to the tax code than to me. Brilliant man, but he’d rather draft documents, listen to opera, and stay out of sight. Archie finds loopholes in tax regulations and crafts words. I deal with the clients.”

  Smiling at her, I asked, “Which one is the first Harold?”

  She gave a wry laugh. “I le
t Archie think he is.”

  “Janis, I know you’re busy, but we’re under the gun. Woody told me he prepared a new will and trust. When did he do this?”

  “Last Tuesday afternoon, Woody came to me and said he needed to get his affairs in order. Those were his words, exactly. When I asked if he had received some bad health news, he said no, and didn’t elaborate. He seemed to know what he wanted. I was skeptical that Woody had that kind of money, but he gave me the last statement from his brokerage account, and I couldn’t argue with the numbers. He was very specific about the terms of the trust—the provisions for his mother, his former wife, your daughter, and the later endowment. He wanted to make sure his former wife couldn’t attack the trust or get more than her monthly allowance. I asked why he wanted to distribute this much money into an irrevocable trust while he was still alive. He said he didn’t need the money and wanted to make sure his savings and investments would go where he wanted. It’s not a very smart move from a tax standpoint, but Woody said he had no problem paying taxes.”

  “That’s Woody. Did he give you a deadline for creating the trust?” I asked.

  “That was the only problem. He wanted it all done by the next day. He seemed anxious to get it taken care of, and he offered to pay extra for the time crunch.”

  “Did he give you a reason for the rush?”

  “He said if Cheryl got a hint of the trust, she’d be in court in a New York minute to claim at least half. I told him he was wrong, but he said I didn’t know Cheryl. Actually, I did. I represented Woody in his divorce. She assumed he had no money, so she took everything else—the house, the furniture, even the car. Big mistake—but I’m getting sidetracked. Woody gave us all the information we needed, and he signed everything Wednesday. There are forms I’ll need you to sign, but that’s about it.”

  Micki queried, “Did he act strange, confused, maybe like he was on or off medication?”

  “If you’re asking me if I thought he was sane or if these were the acts of a sane man, the answer is yes. Archie thought he was crazy because he could have saved taxes by doing it differently, but when he signed these documents, Woody was as sane as you or me. I’d swear to it, which I suspect I’ll have to do.”

  “Were you concerned that he might shoot the senator? Did he appear angry or violent?”

  “Absurd,” Janis responded to Micki’s question. “Woody was blindly loyal to Russell. Did I wonder what he was really up to? Yes, of course, but he seemed to have his reasons. He certainly wasn’t emotional. He was quite calm.”

  It was time to get to my issues. “All this estate planning amazes me, and I’m sure I’ll have a lot more questions after I review the documents, but I’d like to ask you about something else. It’s my understanding that you represented Russell’s campaigns and are in possession of files containing opposition research. I’m not sure the power of attorney gives me the authority to access them, but is it true that without Woody’s permission, Lucy can’t access or acquire those files?”

  “I wondered when those files would come up. I do have them, under multiple lock and key. Woody, and now you, have the authority to access them. As Russell’s executor, I can access them after I probate Russell’s will, but I wanted to wait until after the funeral. Lucy isn’t going to like it, but the fact remains—you and Woody have access, she doesn’t.”

  “Woody wants to turn them over to Lucy. Can he do that?”

  “Damn.” Janis crossed her arms. “I was looking forward to telling that bitch no. She made my life hell during the campaign, and I know Russell didn’t want her to have them. I’ve been having fun with her lawyer. But yes, Woody can do that, and it sounds just like him. He’s too damned nice.”

  “I also understand you did the legal work for Russell’s campaigns—watched over all the filings, etc. Did you do the work for his Senate campaign?”

  She said she had.

  “I take it since you are the executor, you represented Russell personally?”

  “I did.”

  “Did you do the legal work for the Super Pac that Russell was setting up?”

  She gave me a curious look. “You know, Woody called and asked me the same thing a few weeks ago. I didn’t know anything about it at the time. When he came into the office, I asked him about it, and he said he’d found out that a DC firm was doing the work.”

  “Did he specify which firm?”

  “Hell, Jack, it’s your firm—Banks and Tuohey. When he told me, I assumed they’d hired your firm because of your connection to Woody. After all, he’d given you power of attorney, named you trustee of the trust and executor of his will. Didn’t you know about it? Didn’t Woody tell you?”

  You could’ve picked me up off the floor, but I replied evenly, “Woody’s not talking, but I had no idea my firm was involved with Russell at all until you told me just now.”

  “Really? Woody never told you?”

  “Not a word.”

  “I always thought the world of Woody; maybe I still do. I can’t imagine why he would … Well, anyway, I brought you a large file with everything from the trusts, the papers I need signed, the bank account statements, signature cards, and a few other papers you might find interesting.”

  “Thanks. About the money in the brokerage accounts—are there any recent deposits or infusions of money? Did a third party give Woody a lot of money recently?”

  “You should ask. The prosecution certainly will. The answer is no. Woody appears to have done exactly what he said, deposit over half his pay each month into the account. He had one of the most successful investment strategies I’ve ever seen.”

  She gathered her papers and rose.

  “Janis, before you leave, I’ve got a favor to ask. Can you prepare an affidavit going over your legal relationship with Woody and Russell, including the campaigns, the estate planning, and how Woody behaved at your office on Tuesday and Wednesday? Please include what you just told me about the Super Pac.”

  “You know I’ll have to say he was of sound mind when he executed both the will and the trust.”

  That’s okay. I don’t want anything but the truth. Say whatever you need to say, but the more detail the better. I’ll pay whatever it costs.”

  “There’ll be no charge, and you’ll have it before the hearing tomorrow morning.”

  She was in the doorway when she turned back. “You know, I’ve worked with Woody and Russell a long time. Russell relied on Woody’s judgment, and Woody adored Russell. I thought Woody would do anything for Russell, even take a bullet for the man. But I never thought he’d put a bullet in him.”

  33

  “YOU KNOW,” MICKI reminisced, “to the female attorneys in Little Rock, that woman is a pioneer, practically a hero. She married Archie back when they were both students at Harvard Law. She’d been on law review, and Archie was ‘Old Little Rock,’ so she assumed she’d go to one of the established firms when they moved here. She didn’t expect the unwritten code of Little Rock society back then. Rule number one: Little Rock ‘ladies’ don’t have careers. Men do the work; women raise the babies.

  “She interviewed with the big boys, but no one would consider her. Behind closed doors, they wondered how they would introduce her to clients, and heaven forbid, what if she got pregnant? Archie received several offers, but Janis put her foot down, and they formed Harold & Harold.

  “You should hear her stories. One judge ordered her to appear in court wearing a dress or a traditional woman’s suit. She refused, and there was a bit of a standoff, until the judge backed down. She’s worn pantsuits ever since. Another time, the opposing lawyer in a divorce kept calling her ‘sweetheart.’ She put up with it, until he put his hand on her behind. He found her knee right where I kicked your attacker. She was one of the women who helped break that old code—and all she said to me was that I was tall.”

  “Well, you’re making your own history right now,” I said, hoping she’d live to see it. “If we get there, she’ll make a great witness
for Woody. She can put to rest all that rot about his being a hanger-on and a flunky. I’d hate to be the one to cross-examine her.”

  “Agreed, but we only have Woody’s word about his role in a new committee. Although Janis does help. Did you really not know that your firm was doing legal work for Russell? How’s that possible?”

  I had nothing to say to that.

  “It’s too bad—if you hadn’t been fired last night, you could find out what the Super Pac’s agenda was, what role Woody was to play, and who was the money behind it. I’m not sure where that would have put you ethically, though. Representing Russell’s killer may not be unethical, but it would have put you in a tough spot.”

  “Well, it’s water under the bridge now. Let’s talk about moving forward. It’s pretty clear that presenting an insanity defense is untenable, although I do believe her testimony supports Woody’s story that he planned to kill himself.”

  Micki responded with a good point. “Yeah, but I’m not sure it helps with the accidental shooting scenario. Woody could have been planning all along to shoot Russell and then turn the gun on himself. That would be consistent with what happens all the time—one spouse killing the cheating partner and then committing suicide. I’m afraid it even plays into your oil conspiracy theory, which I still don’t buy.”

  She had a good point, and as I watched her absorb her own argument, I wondered why Ron had never mentioned that we represented Russell. Why had I been kept out of the loop?

  Rubbing my eyes, I leaned back and tried to focus on our immediate problems. “Let’s talk about court.”

  Micki nodded. “All right. What are you thinking?”

  “Well, without Woody’s cooperation, it’s hard to do much of anything. I need time—both to convince Woody to let me defend him and to throw Sam and the bad guys, whoever they are, off track. You’ve been in Marshall’s court before, so this afternoon, I want you to take the lead. If the judge asks you to waive something, you can honestly say you’ve just been hired, and until you’ve had a chance to meet the client, you’re not in the position to waive anything. I can’t bullshit Marshall, but I think you can. However, if you take the lead, you become the focus of the media, and whoever wants me gone may turn on you.”