by Una Tiers
“Or maybe,” I added, “instead of an error, what if the nurse who made the chart note was the killer?” I suggested. “And what if she put down the wrong time deliberately instead of in error?”
He thought about this but didn’t comment.
“Did you say you’ve been at Know Acres?” David asked.
“Yes.” He didn’t need to know that I had a few potential clients there. A little too late I realized David was sneakier than I estimated. I was particularly careful not to tell him I had been there or that I had clients there.
“Do you sign in at the front desk?”
“I do but usually sign so my name can’t be read. I’m afraid they’ll call the police on me again.” Briefly I described the drama when I saw Eddy, putting myself in an increasingly good light, like a fish tale.
David listened quietly and smiled before he continued.
“Do you know what time everyone goes to bed?” he asked. “I’m guessing they turn in early, but I think I’m stereotyping them.”
“I think it’s natural to guess about groups of people you don’t know. I have my own stereotypes that are falling apart. But to answer your question, I don’t know if there is a lights out policy.
I’ve never been there except for the afternoon. You can come with me the next time I have an appointment.”
“Would I be able to talk to your client?” he asked.
“I can’t talk to my client, he was asleep the last time I was there and I can’t reach him by phone. They keep telling me he is not able to come to the phone.”
“Is that unusual?”
“I think so, but don’t know the client well. It just seems odd that someone who was spry and alert is now sleeping around the clock.”
David picked me up at work so we would get to Know Acres just as the dinner hour was ending. He had shaved and smelled nice. He had on different clothes.
We didn’t talk much in the car. I would tag it as companionable silence.
After we signed in at Know Acres, we went to the wrong room. It was bare of personal items, the bed was stripped and the bleach smell burned my nose and eyes. I checked the names on the next few doors before a nurse stopped us.
“Can I help you,” she asked.
“We’re looking for Mr. Szem, did he change rooms?”
“Are you family?”
“No,” I don’t think Eddy mentioned family. My stomach dropped. Was he dead?
“I’m sorry, we can’t give out information under the rules. Maybe you can contact his family.”
“Did he die?” I asked with my heart pounding and eyes filling with tears.
“I’m sorry, I can’t discuss it with you unless you’re family.” The nurse seemed to like her authority with a side order of mean.
David glanced at me and pulled out his gold shield and asked the nurse, “Can you tell me if he died?”
The nurse didn’t like being badgered. “No he didn’t die, but I can’t give information out. Maybe you should talk to the administrator.”
“Okay, where are the offices?”
“At the front, around from the reception desk, but everyone is gone by 3 PM.”
As we walked toward the lobby, a woman walking slowly with a cane was coming down the hall toward us. She looked at me with recognition and then gave me the keep walking look, avoiding eye contact. Maybe she mistook me for someone else, or saw my picture in the paper.
Next we heard the plot tap of my thirsty friend. He also avoided eye contact and scooted past us. I wondered if he remembered me.
“Am I going to another nursing home too?” He was nearly shouting to no one in particular but trying to make his point. ”Is my grandson coming to see me this evening? Will he take me for a ride in the fire truck?” He turned and caught my eye for a second and quickly retreated down the hall.
“A friend of yours?” David asked.
“A spy I know.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
There were two new messages on my answering machine in the morning.
Peep: “Hello Fiona, this is Liam, Sue’s illegitimate half, Sue said they transferred Eddy out of Know Acres yesterday, but no one knows where. On our matter, Sue has an appointment to see the dentist tomorrow. I offered to drive her, but they said they have to use a companion service.”
Peep: “Ms. Gavelle, this is Chessie, my sister fell and they took her to the hospital. I got a call, and am here at the hospital, but they won’t let me see her. I need your help now. Please!”
Chessie’s call was timed at 9 PM. I guessed she was home now, sleeping.
For court I had a rather understated, elegant argument prepared about attorney access to the client. Sadly, when I walked in, I saw a strange judge on the bench instead of Judge Wizard. The substitute was signing orders and handing them back to the clerk like an assembly line. They could have hired a monkey to do that.
My disappointment brought me to tears.
There are two main types of court calls, motion practice and trials. At a motion practice call there could be fifteen or twenty cases on the list. At trial, there is only one matter scheduled.
When you have a motion on call, you check in with the clerk when you enter the court room. When everyone is there, the case is called.
The clerk told me my case was already continued.
“Without me?” I asked.
“Do you want to have the case called?” she asked impatiently.
“Yes thank you.”
The Judge was just in from another division, because no other judge was available. She listened politely and then said I needed to continue the case.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nearing the first of the month when bills are due, I calculated my money to bills ratio and was two hundred dollars to the good. This will go into my emergency account. This is the third month this year and it makes me think about cartwheels.
My servitude hours for the firm were only three over the requirement, still I sent, or hand delivered a statement for the time. Paul doesn’t like this so I know it’s a good business decision. He continuously provides a reverse business barometer for me.
Despite several calls, faxes and snail mail letters to the Department on Aging about meeting with Eddy, they refused to respond. I prepared a petition for a rule to show cause, kind of like snitching to the judge that they wouldn’t follow the court order.
At the same time, I worried about getting paid. Andrew described the process and I didn’t understand when I should ask for fees.
After I finished the first petition, I drafted a response to the Senior Services petition asking to sell his house. We objected to everything. On a roll, I prepared a third petition for Eddy to be examined by his internist as to the need for a guardian. This was Andrew’s idea.
Petitions are the way you ask for things from the court. You give a little background and make the argument. They are kind of fun to write. The opposing party answers paragraph by paragraph. If their case is really bad, they confuse the matter by just throwing allegations into the response and trying to avoid answering.
Since I had three weeks to Eddy’s next court date, I sent a birthday card to him at Know Acres, marking the envelope, please forward. Cousin Alice was the return name I used and I wrote a note with my telephone number inside the folds. Maybe it would slip through to him.
Although I talked to Chessie a few times, she never talked about hiring me. Liam and Sue were afraid to hire me and didn’t have any money. I knew this was not good use of my time. Nonetheless I wanted to at least try to help them.
When I was finishing my grueling work, Annette, the office manager delivered my mail. She smiled, a bit deviant from her usual business like attitude.
“Was that a policeman the other day?” She asked her question with a quiet half smile that sent my baloney meter into the red zone.
“When?” I asked, not too artfully playing dumb.
“The tall good looking one? You know, Paul is very nervous
about him. He asks a lot of questions.”
It was impossible to tell if Annette was on my side or if her loyalty was only to Paul. He, after all, signed her paycheck.
Overall I liked Annette but increasingly thought it was a poor decision. She made a few comments about female camaraderie now and then that were freaky. My best guess was that she was a spy. Was this a sign that my space for services agreement was about to end?
“My boyfriend, but don’t tell Paul, okay?” I lied with my suspicions confirmed when she left so fast she almost walked into the door frame. Unquestionably she was on the way to rat me out to Paul.
We received two more claims against the estate of Judge R. Etapage. Claims are bills. The first was from a surgeon for what sounded like a nose job. The claim was for $7,900.00 and was stamped ‘denied by insurance.’ Silly me, I assumed the judges had health insurance that would cover a pedicure.
A second claim against the estate was for nursing care at Know Acres. The charges were for three weeks at $210 a day for a total, with medications, of $6,900.00.
The reaction I expected from Meghan made me look into the matter before calling her. Luckily, the judge’s insurance card was in the packet of information Meghan brought from the house.
Judges make a very generous salary and benefits. The finer points of their benefits were made public about a year ago when the state legislature asked them to pick up one percent of their health care costs, due to perennial budget crisis.
The judges in a pack not only howled objections, but hired lobbyists to fight the proposal. They took the position that it was a reduction in their pay. One percent, think about it.
They lost sympathy of just about everyone for their efforts although they were successful in not paying the extra cost.
I called the insurance company and was transferred from one extension to the next repeating the story again and again. Finally someone noted that the spouse did not provide proof of marriage prior to surgery as required.
Oh oh.
Meghan melted down as expected when she learned there were medical bills for nearly fifteen thousand dollars.
“But she had health insurance, she had good health insurance,” Meghan whined. “This is terrible, why didn’t you tell me about this?”
I was tempted to point out to her that the hospital bill would likely follow, but decided to wait. I tried to get her to focus.
“The bills came in the mail this morning. Look at the bigger picture for our dilemma, maybe your mother was married.” Neither of us noticed that the reason for denial of the rehabilitation costs was not provided.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Peep. “Ms. Gavelle, this is Bobby from the office of Senior Services. We are aware that you are the attorney for Sue Ulnar and that you are concealing her whereabouts. She is supposed to be heavily sedated due to her suicidal tendencies and we demand that you advise our office of her whereabouts. We will be before the court shortly on this matter to ask for a writ of body attachment.”
David stepped into my office, hearing the end of the phone call and smiled sheepishly. “That’s why I’m here too. Do you represent two people at Know Acres?”
“Now you know I have to keep that confidential, but no, I don’t represent Sue Ulnar.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“No.”
David narrowed his eyes at me. It made me wonder if he’d fall madly in love with me if I let him see who I really was.
The phone rang and as I heard a British accent start the message, I turned the sound off.
“Paul McCartney?” David joked.
“Probably.”
He nodded and smiled.
“Sue eloped?” I validated, flashing back to my meeting with Liam.
“Eloped,” he repeated with alarm.
“That’s what they call it when someone wanders or runs away.”
“Oh, I’ve never heard that phrase unless someone was getting married. No, it was more like she disappeared into thin air or left in a Groucho Marx disguise. She was at lunch in a robe and house slippers and the nurse asked her to return to her room because they have a dress code for the dining room. When the nurse brought the lunch tray to her room, Sue wasn’t there.”
“She left in her robe?” I asked quietly. The coincidence with Dorothy Daisy was not lost on me.
“No one saw her leave. About the same time a medic van arrived to drive a patient to an outside medical appointment. It caused some confusion.
The receptionist said the companion was in front of her desk as if she had materialized.
The woman said she was from a familiar companion agency and they were to escort Eddy Szem. To an outside appointment. The receptionist explained that all the patients were at lunch and she went to look for Eddy.
The nursing supervisor told the receptionist that Mr. Szem was no longer at Know Acres. When the receptionist went back to the front desk, the companion and ambulance were gone.
“Did the receptionist get the name of the van company?” I asked.
“That’s another thing that doesn’t fit, the receptionist said it was a city ambulance.”
“Do they do that?”
“No. Only private ambulance companies move patients like that. The city ambulances are there for 911 emergencies. Later the receptionist said the companion was dressed in scrubs, wearing sunglasses and a scarf and was carrying a large bag. It didn’t seem unusual to her until we asked for a description.”
“A purse?”
“A large plastic shopping bag,” David answered. “It only seemed odd that someone would bring a bag in from the van.”
Sue was a nurse before the guardianship. Was this important? Was not telling wrong?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Andrew was in the law library and saw me before I could avoid him gracefully.
“Fiona?”
I smiled weakly.
“I’m sorry, I should have been more generous but I got burned on fees with the Senior Division. I half wanted to avoid them and half wanted to save you from the grief. Those…jerks delayed my fee for almost a year when there was money available to pay. I must have made fifty calls before they decided to act.”
“So we let them walk all over these people? What about tilting at windmills?” I tried to sound as if I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t doing a good job.
I had to admit I pushed the fee issue to the back of my soapbox issues. If I was going to be a successful capitalist I would need to pay attention to getting paid.
Andrew was embarrassed, “I asked around and got some information that might interest you.”
“About what?”
“Judge R. Etapage.” As he answered, he pulled out a chair for me.
I sat down.
“It seems that she has or had a very small group of lawyers that she appointed to investigate the guardianships. Many of them used to work at the Senior Department.”
“Is that unusual?”
“I think so, the other judges appoint from a long list that includes private attorneys who practice in guardianship court.”
“Is there money in the investigations?”
“Sure, and generally there is no one to object. A lot of the people in guardianship really need someone to handle their decisions.”
“And what about trials?” I wondered out loud. “How much would an attorney representing a respondent make on a trial?”
“Funny you should ask, in the two years she was on the probate bench hearing guardianship cases, the lawyers I spoke to said they never went to trial.”
“No one objected to having a guardian?”
“From what a few of them said, strictly off the record, she insisted upon settlements.
I thought about the guy you told me about. He didn’t understand what was going on because the attorney didn’t explain his rights to him. Who wakes someone up late at night to tell them about a lawsuit?”
“And then tells the same person he can’t go to court.
..” I chimed in.
“My bet, Fiona, is that the lawyer never told him all of his options. Think about it, who would know?”
It was a poor reflection on lawyers. I was not happy to be in the group again. As Pollyannaish as it sounds, I thought being a lawyer meant helping people, and making a good living. Maybe the law was solely about chasing the almighty dollar.
“Fiona were you able to get another medical opinion for your client?”
Embarrassed, I explained how the Senior Division had outmaneuvered me by transferring Eddy to another nursing home and concealing him. The idea that he was drugged was too farfetched for me to repeat. I just sat and worried.
“And think about this,” Andrew continued, “there are at least a thousand new guardianship cases filed each year. If you divide that by five judges, each judge gets maybe two hundred new cases a year. She can steer them to her friends. It would amount to a lot of attorneys fees. That would build up a lot of goodwill at reelection time.”
I looked at him with disappointment.
Andrew made it worse, “A few other issues were raised. However, I swore I wouldn’t repeat any of what they said.”
“But you are,” I pointed out.
“I feel like I should have helped you when you got that nasty letter. But can you keep this information and me to yourself?”
I looked at him, questioningly.
“Agreed Fiona?”
“Sure.”
“Think about what a scam this could be. If the senior objects but doesn’t go to court, the snake investigation attorney could say there was no objection, they get paid and the senior is screwed. No one questions that the senior doesn’t come to court because why come in unless you are objecting?”
I left our conversation nauseated. Was he exaggerating? Should I be more suspicious?
When I tried to use my cell phone to check for messages at the office, I realized I left it on the charger. Stewing, I walked back across the loop to retrieve the phone. I didn’t play the message earlier because I knew it was Liam asking for help or money.
