Girl, Under Oath (Michael Gresham Series)

by John Ellsworth

  He then continued. "The second area I would like to take up is real estate. It appears that Joseph Ipswich owns a house in Evanston, Illinois. Jennifer has put on this paper the house is worth two-point-one million. It just so happens that I've had that house appraised, and I’ve learned the value is more in the neighborhood of six-and-a-half million. So, we are about four-point-four million apart.”

  I stepped in. “Amazing your man could appraise a house without entering it. Did she enter while my client was away at work and didn’t know? Burglary, Wilder?”

  “Again, we will be taking this up with the court next week when the court hears our motion for temporary orders. It is Elise's position, however, that she will accept three million for her share of the house. Failing that, we will establish at the hearing next week that the house should be immediately listed on the market at eight million."

  "Utterly ridiculous," muttered Jennifer.

  "Dr. Ipswich," said Wilder, "you might think it's ridiculous. But if I were you, I would begin packing my suitcases. Long story short, you should stop by U-Haul on the way home and pick up a whole bunch of packing boxes. You’re going to need them. Your house will be sold in the next thirty days because I understand it's a hot market up there. No sooner are houses listed than scrappy buyers grab them. Don't like it? Tell it to the judge next week."

  Jennifer turned to me and said in her loudest voice, "Michael, is this lunatic serious? Does he really think I'm going to allow him to sell my house? Please tell him that's never going to happen. Even if I have to appeal this case to the United States Supreme Court, it's just not going to happen."

  I tried to ignore her. Instead, I said to Wilder, “While we’re on the subject of real estate, I don't see any real estate assets listed by Elise Ipswich in Paris. Or anyplace else in the world, for that matter. Would you care to explain that to us?"

  Wilder shrugged. "That's an easy one. Elise and Joseph owned no real estate together. It’s all in Elise’s name, and she makes the payments, which she can hardly afford since Joseph is no longer helping support his French daughter.”

  I said, “She’s told us she earns next to nothing at LVP Partners. How in the world has she afforded a condo in the heart of downtown Paris?”

  “You’ve just nailed it, Gresham, part of the problem that Elise is facing at this moment. She needs support for herself and her sick daughter. As to the Evanston home, Judge Adamson will immediately see the inequity of the situation and award my client three-point-two million, constituting one-half. It seems to me your client has some serious banking to do to make my client an offer. If she doesn't offer complete payment, we will be in court next week, and I will make my case there.”

  I smiled. “You can try. Can you pull all this off? Impossible, Wilder.”

  “I can promise you Judge Adamson will have no difficulty selling your client's house and splitting the proceeds. Judges do that every day since they see it's the only fair way to divide up marital homes."

  I could only sit there and shake my head. Inside, I knew he was probably right. But this was a contest, and I couldn't totally ignore Jennifer's wishes. So I said, “As far as Judge Adamson, it's going to be very clear to him that you are doing nothing more than trying to run up legal fees with your grab-and-run tactic. This scam might work well for you in other courts, but it's not going to work in this one. My suggestion for you is that you accept the sum of one million for any interest your client might have in my client’s real estate and be damned glad she's getting that. Because, otherwise, she's going to go to court next week and be sadly disappointed when Judge Adamson finds that the real estate in Evanston is my client's sole property.”

  “Pure BS.”

  “Not so.” I sighed. “Moving right along. I see where your client has listed two Mercedes automobiles paid for. She has listed those with a total value of fifty thousand euros. Without going to the Kelly Blue Book, I know that those vehicles are worth a minimum of a hundred-fifty thousand. So, I'm going to put that value in the marital property column and make a claim on my client's behalf for seventy-five thousand euros."

  "Mr. Gresham," said Wilder, "you just said something significant a few moments ago. You made an offer of one million. I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to tell my client to accept that offer of one million in partial payment of what she's owed. I'm going to suggest we then have our appraisers get together, yours and mine, and arrive at valuations for the home.”

  “Appraisers make sense.”

  “If we can do this, we can avoid going to court next week. Also, my client will accept one-hundred thousand in full payment of her interest in those accounts. I have discussed this, and she has authorized me to settle in these amounts. So, it's a steal. Your client pays one-point-one million and gets out from under what she owes on the life insurance of two million and on the bank accounts. Then we will split the difference on the house valuations, and your client can then refinance and pay my client one-half of that valuation. Or we can agree to sell the house on the best terms possible to the best buyer possible.”

  I looked at Jennifer. She was noncommittal. I was exasperated. She should’ve grabbed that offer and run.

  Wilder plunged ahead. “This will forgo a court-ordered sale and will put more money in the pockets of both our clients. I can't think of any way to be fairer than this. And I think you'll have to admit, it's a fair offer. The only requirement is that your client brings a passbook with one-point-one million to my office by five o'clock today.”

  I looked at Jennifer again. She nodded. “Okay on the one-point-one million. No, on the house,” she said.

  “Have the money at my office Monday by five p.m.,” said Wilder. “No bait-and-switch, or I’m calling the judge and the sheriff.”

  “Will do.” Jennifer smiled benignly. “Will do.”

  29

  Michael

  We broke from court on the criminal trial Monday at 12:30. We went over by half an hour because the assistant medical examiner was available to us for testimony only in the morning, and my cross-examination of her didn't conclude until 12:30 on the button. Right after that, when court was recessed, Jennifer disappeared without telling me where she was going or asking whether I needed to confer with her over the lunch hour. I saw her an hour later when she came into court with a smile on her face. She sat down beside me and said, “Well? Are you going to ask me where I've been?"

  "All right, where’ve you been?"

  "I've been to the Bank of America. I opened a savings account in my name and the name of Elise Ipswich, and I put one-half of the life insurance proceeds into that account. Here is the passbook, which I want to give to you and ask you to give to Elise in hopes that we can settle this matter once and for all. I thought about the things you cautioned me about after we hung up this morning. One thing I don't want to do is get into a land war with Frank Wilder after all the things I've heard about him.”

  I smiled and slapped the table. “Smart lady!”

  “Right now, there's one-point-one million in that account, which should be enough to settle all differences between that French hussy and me.” She held up a hand. “I don't really mean that. I know she's a good person, and I know she probably got taken in by Joseph. He had his weak moments, and I have to admit there were times with him when I just had to look the other way and shake my head. ‘Boys will be boys,’ is what I told myself. Anyhoo, the money is there, and now you have the passbook, so please do whatever legal mumbo-jumbo you have to go through and get me out of this little mess. Thank you very much."

  "This is great, Jennifer," I said. I exhaled a great sigh of relief because nobody in their right mind wanted to go up against Frank Wilder while he raped and pillaged someone's assets. Plus, it made sense to me what she was doing. I made a note to myself to call Frank after court that day and try to escape any litigation he might have in mind. We then continued with the criminal trial.

  Later that afternoon, I managed to get Frank Wilder on th
e phone, and we had our back-and-forth about the case.

  "Frank, this is Michael Gresham. To make a long story short and cut right to the heart of the matter, I have in my file a passbook at Bank of America, an account which presently has one million in it, earmarked for your client. I hope that your client will accept this amount in full settlement of any claims she might have against Joe Ipswich’s property. Please let me know if it’s going to settle matters between them.”

  "Haha, Michael Gresham. I’d heard that you’re one of those guys who does like to cut right to the heart of the matter, but only when that heart favors your client. No, Joseph Wilder's assets are worth much more than one million, so consider your offer declined. But we are still waiting for the money, as we discussed Saturday, in full settlement of the insurance policy and bank accounts. Your client should jump at that, or else she’s as crazy as the loon she likes to portray.”

  Portray? I asked myself. At this point, I wasn’t so sure it was all an act. Anyway, I plowed ahead. "Wait, Frank, aren't you even going to take the offer to your client? Doesn't the law require you to do that?"

  "Oh, we've already talked, and she's told me that anything less than fifty percent of Dr. Ipswich's other assets should be rejected."

  "Wait a minute, the assets owned jointly by Joseph and Jennifer include just about everything in her life. What are you going to try to do, put her on the street?"

  "Yes, Michael, that's exactly what I'm going to do if that's what it takes to make her sweetly reasonable and willing to settle this case for fifty percent to my client. As you and I both know, nothing makes a client more sweetly reasonable than restricting their access to their bank accounts, cash accounts, and cash flow. I'm going to ask the judge for a conservator. I’m going to have my runner bring these documents to your office tomorrow morning, and I hope you will stipulate there's no need for formal service of process and that you will file a response without wasting any time. Is that fair enough?"

  “It's fair enough that you can send those documents over to me, and I will prepare and file responsive pleadings. What isn't fair is for you to think you're going to go into court and tie up one-half of all of my client’s assets, just to make her come around and surrender to your client. That just isn't going to happen, and you can be aware from the get-go that I will be seeking legal fees from your client for having to respond to such a ridiculous assertion as the one you're about to make. Your client has no claim against the marriage assets that are in the name of Jennifer Ipswich in her own right. Yet it sounds to me like she will be going not only against joint marital assets but against assets she holds separately."

  "That is exactly right. It's going to be my client's position that even assets held in Jennifer’s name, she earned those assets while in a marriage with Dr. Ipswich, and thus they are assets of the marriage to which my client is entitled to fifty percent. See you in court, old man. Please get ready to get your ass kicked."

  "I'm going to be ready, all right, but I would suggest you prepare to get your ass kicked in return. Goodbye now, Mr. Wilder, you have a good rest of the day.”

  “Have her here by five with the one-point-one million.”

  We hung up at that point, and I instructed my paralegal to prepare responsive pleadings when the Wilder pleadings arrived. I already knew that the guy would be asking for the moon, and I already knew that I was going to be fighting everything he was seeking. Already, this case was going south, and my client stood to lose a huge amount of money in legal fees because Wilder was going to stir this thing up.

  While I was sitting there contemplating appearing in court against Frank Wilder, he called me again—another charge of a ten-minute legal fee.

  "Mr. Gresham, I forgot to say one thing. My client does accept an additional two-thousand euros per week as temporary child support for their daughter, Çidde, who currently needs her medications refreshed. When my runner arrives with the documentation, please have the account book ready to turn over to him. Are we in agreement with that?"

  "Yes, we will turn over the passbook. While I'm not sure the estate of Joseph Ipswich owes child support to your client, the agreed money will be turned over. Just let the record show that the money turned over is not for child support. At this point, there is no proof whatsoever that Joe Ipswich was the father of that child, and we’re not going to go into this thing admitting parenthood from the get-go. That's something you're going to have to prove to me. Now, you want to play hardball, how about that hardball?"

  "My my, you must've been reading some of my articles, Mr. Gresham. Proving that Joseph Ipswich is the father of Çidde Ipswich is a very simple matter. But the issue will increase the legal fees your client is going to owe to me, so I can only say you're making a mistake by taking that position. For now, thank you and goodbye. I’m billing your client three-hundred and seventy-five dollars for this call.”

  "Thank you, too. Goodbye."

  30

  Jennifer

  Bank of America, Schaumburg branch, was on Golf Road just off the freeway. I took the Golf Road off-ramp, went up two blocks, and pulled through the drive-through banking. When it was my turn at the teller window, I put the Jennifer Ipswich–Elise Ipswich savings account passbook into the tray. The woman inside the bank booth asked what I would like done.

  "I would like you to move the money out of that account and back into my personal account. I'm going to send you a deposit slip for my personal account."

  The teller called right back. “Ma’am, this one-point-one million was just moved into this account this morning earlier. Is there some problem that you’re moving it right out?”

  “Not at all. Just do as I say, please.” I then placed a deposit slip into the transfer box, but the agent made me enter the bank. When she was finished, she put the savings account book and the receipt for a $1.1 million deposit into my personal account back into my hands. I went back out and drove away.

  I turned my car around at the intersection and headed back toward the freeway, where I went underneath and then made a left curve to head home.

  It was just too much to ask of me, to give away a piece of myself.

  The money was back where it belonged.

  31

  Michael

  After criminal court Monday, around 5:30 p.m., Wilder called me. It seemed like the impossible had happened. Jennifer had failed to show up with the savings account book.

  I called Jennifer. “My God, Jennifer, what have you done? You actually took the money out of the savings account and put it back into your own account? What in the hell are you thinking?"

  "Well, I'm not going to support her love child. When I heard that it was going to be used for child support, I decided hell no. I wasn't going to play that game. Funny thing is, I might have done it before if she had come to me in a civilized manner and asked me for it. But, so far, all she's done is demand, demand, demand. I'm not gonna let her get away with that. She already stole half of my husband; she's not going to steal half of my money. So yes, I put the million back in my account, and they can sue me."

  "They've already sued you! Get ready for that dam to burst! This is not a smart thing to do."

  The line went dead. She had hung up on me.

  It wasn't fifteen minutes later that I got a call from Frank Wilder. I could tell at the beginning that this wasn't going to go well. He was furious. "Will you please effing tell me what your client is thinking, taking the one-point-one million away like it was a baited trap?"

  "Frank, I'm still trying to get a grip on that myself. I just want you to know that it was against my advice. And it certainly wasn’t done after consulting with me. After we hang up, I mean to talk to her. I'm going to strongly encourage her to put that money back and go ahead with the original plan."

  "Ha ha, Gresham. That offer’s off the table. I'm preparing an amended affidavit for Judge Adamson right now. I'm gonna tell him what kind of games your client is playing with my client’s life. Knowing Judge Adamson, he
's gonna be pissed and won’t let your client get away with it.”

  “Give me until tomorrow at noon. I need to talk to her in person.”

  “Too bad. There could even be a fine involved. Maybe even jail time. At the very least, the court will sequester one half of Doctor Ipswich's assets and grant my motion. I want you to know that I'm also going to be amending all my pleadings and asking for a conservator over the medical practice, too, at this point. I want someone appointed to take full control of all of Jennifer and Joseph's assets. That way an accounting can be done. Then I can set the matter for hearing and ask for a fifty-fifty division. Your client isn't going to play any further games, Gresham, not on my watch. Tell her to pull her head out of her ass before I pull it out for her."

  The phone went dead. I looked down at the phone, and the button was red. Terminated.

  I then called Jennifer.

  When she picked up, I didn't wait to charge in. "Congratulations, Jennifer, you just started World War Three. Frank Wilder is totally pissed, and he's going after blood. If I were you, I wouldn't hesitate to give me authority to give Elise one half of Joe's assets. If you don't, the court is going to do it for you, and you’re gonna wind up paying one-hundred to two-hundred-thousand dollars to Frank Wilder's in legal fees because you wouldn't cooperate. I can't urge you strongly enough to authorize me to make that offer. What do you say?"

  "Michael, I think the court will take notice that this woman entrapped my husband. The court will know she's nothing more than a common leech. It will send her away with nothing. In fact, I'm wondering why we aren't going for one-half of her assets? Isn't it possible we could file a pleading and ask for half of what she has?"

  "Yes, we could do that. If you really mean it, you need to send me an email telling me to do it. You need to confirm to me in writing that it was your idea. Because believe me, it is going to cost you more money than you ever imagined if you do something as foolish as ask for half of her assets."