“Look, you son of a bitch, I don’t know who the fuck you are and don’t care. Whoever told you to deliver your message, you tell him that I’ll practice wherever I damn well please. If he doesn’t like it, shove it. That clear?”
Hawk smiled. “Just delivering the message, Mr. Bryant. You have a good day.”
Jack turned to walk across the street just as the light changed to yellow. Shit, the stakes can’t get much higher. I’m on my way to try to convince the judge we need the other dead peasant policies, evidence that may get the charges against Colby dismissed and win June’s case. I’m confronted with the guy that matches the sketch done by the New Orleans police department. It can’t be a coincidence. Someone wants me to drop this case and this motion. That narrows it down to one man. When he got to McDowell’s courtroom, he saw Leyton and beckoned him out into the hall.
“What the fuck are you and Allison trying to do?”
Leyton looked at him with blank eyes. “I don’t have a clue what you are talking about.”
Jack relayed what had just occurred, sparks flying from his eyes.
“Look, I didn’t have anything to do with it, and I can guarantee you that my client didn’t either.” Leyton stared at Jack like he had lost his mind and returned to the courtroom.
Jack entered the courtroom and realized that there were no lawyers present on other matters. For whatever reason, his motion was the only one set. He walked through the gate to the counsel table opposite Leyton and laid his cane on the table. Then he opened his briefcase and took out his motion. When he took his seat, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, requiring him to take a few slow, deep breaths before the thumping disappeared. The judge came out of his chambers without an announcement by the bailiff. Both lawyers rose as McDowell climbed to his bench.
“Mr. Leyton and Mr. Bryant, you may come forward.”
When they approached the bench, Judge McDowell asked, “Mr. Bryant, are you feeling all right? You’re sweating and your face is flushed. Should we wait a few minutes before we hear your matter?”
“No, Judge,” Jack said. “I’m fine. May I proceed?”
McDowell nodded his head.
“Judge, we have filed a motion for production of any dead peasant policies…I apologize, Your Honor…I meant life policies on former employees of Allison Southwest. It’s a simple motion. In fact, I’ll settle for a computer run of the names of the persons insured, the amounts, when the policies were taken out and current status. Should be able to be produced with a few computer strokes.”
“Mr. Leyton?” Judge McDowell said as he turned to face the other lawyer.
“Judge, there are a multitude of problems with this request. First, there are privacy issues with the persons insured and their beneficiaries. Next, what possible relevance could there be about other policies on other Allison Southwest employees? We’re here dealing with who is entitled to the benefits of one policy on William Davis.”
“Judge, if I can explain,” Jack said, his voice rising. “Discovery is permissible in this state if the results of the discovery may potentially lead to relevant evidence. We have pled under the Insurance Code and the Deceptive Trade Practices Act that Allison Southwest has engaged in a pattern and practice that is illegal and can lead to punitive damages. The only way we can prove it is to know the names of other employees who Allison has insured and then discover whether they or their loved ones knew if the policies exist. As to the beneficiaries, we believe that the only beneficiary on all of the policies will be Allison Southwest. We can also determine whether the other employees actually signed these so-called employment agreements as Allison claims that Willie Davis signed. And, of course, we will agree to a confidentiality order, restricting my team from disclosing the names of the employees and any personal information about them until the court approves such disclosure.”
“Mr. Bryant,” the judge said, making no effort to control the volume of his voice. “It looks to me like this is nothing more than a fishing expedition with no hope of ever landing anything other than a couple of minnows. Besides, I promised Mr. Leyton that we would be going to trial in two weeks. If I grant this motion, all it will lead to will be more discovery and a delay in the trial. That’s not going to happen. Your motion is overruled. Good day, counsel.”
Jack knew when he was beat. It suddenly hit him that Leyton had set up this early morning hearing with the judge to avoid other lawyers and litigants from hearing the discussion about the dead peasant policies. Was it also set up at this time so that he could be threatened on the street without anyone overhearing? He turned on his cane, went to counsel table where he loaded his briefcase, and banged the railing gate as he left the courtroom.
70
Jack called Colby as soon as he got out of court and told her about the threat. She promised to lock herself in the house with the alarms on. Next he called Joe to report the incident and told him just to take a look at the New Orleans sketch to identify the man. Jack was steaming when he got back to the RV and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that there were no pro bono clients lined up in the parking lot. He needed to focus on the Davis case and the threat made on him in the street. After unlocking the door he tossed his briefcase on the passenger seat and sat at the table, pondering what to do. How could he deal with the threat from some unknown person? It almost surely came from Allison, but he couldn’t be certain. He considered Quillen and the other dozen or so financial institutions he and Van Buren had sued. Obviously, they were suspects, but his mind kept coming back to Allison and Leyton. Somehow he had to address the threat. Finally, he concluded that he could only leave it in Sherrod’s hands. For him it would be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack.
Then his mind drifted to McDowell’s ruling an hour ago. There had to be a way to put pressure on McDowell so Leyton didn’t win every battle. If these rulings continued throughout trial, he knew he was going to lose, leaving appeal as his only hope. Even if he got McDowell reversed on appeal, it would be too late for Colby.
At last he had an idea that he thought might potentially solve both problems. He picked up his cell phone and called Hartley Hampton.
“Star Telegram, Hampton here. How you doing, Jack?” Hampton said as he glanced at his caller i.d.
“Could be doing better. Can you drop by my RV sometime this afternoon. I may have a story for you.”
“Hell, Jack, after the props I got on that last series I did on you, I’m not waiting until afternoon. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes.”
Twenty minutes later a car pulled into the parking lot, the door opened and Hampton climbed the steps. Hampton stuck out his hand. “Ace reporter at your service.
What do you have for me?”
Jack invited Hartley to take a seat at the table and retrieved a bottle of water for him from the refrigerator.
“To start, let’s keep this on background at first. When I get through talking, we’ll decide what you can use.”
Both men understood that background meant the information was confidential until Jack said otherwise. Jack walked Hartley through the lawsuit from the very beginning when June knocked on his door with the envelope and check from the postal department, his unsuccessful meeting with Allison, the filing of the lawsuit and the morning’s hearing.
“Of course nearly all of that is public information, except my confrontation with Allison, which I don’t want you to use. For some reason you guys in the media haven’t picked up on this story.”
Hartley nodded. “Up until this very moment it was just one more civil lawsuit. We media types usually aren’t much interested in civil litigation unless there’s a bigger story surrounding it.”
“I tried to get a computer run on Allison’s dead peasant policies this morning, and Judge McDowell denied my motion almost before I could finish talking. You can have a copy of the motion.
“Wait a minute,” Hartley interrupted. “Isn’t there something about an insurable interest? Where is t
hat when one of Allison’s employees quits or gets fired?”
“Leyton found an old employment agreement from thirty years ago that he says gave Allison the right to continue coverage on Willie Davis even after he retired. I suppose they will claim the same thing on all of the dead peasant policies.”
Hartley was scribbling as fast as he could on his steno pad. “Anything else?”
“Oh, we’re not through. I’m getting fucked by McDowell every time I go in his courtroom. I’ve been around courtrooms long enough to know when the judge is intentionally favoring one side. Best guess is he’s gotten a lot of money from Leyton’s firm, maybe Allison, too. I figure that Leyton and Allison have decided to pull out all stops to win this one to discourage other such lawsuits. It’s common practice with big corporations. If they think there’s potential for a bunch of lawsuits, they’ll throw the kitchen sink at the first one. Whatever it takes to win, they’ll do it.”
Hartley raised his hand. “Only we have contribution limits. No one can give more than $2,000 to the judge’s campaign in one election. That’s not enough money to buy off a judge.”
Jack shook his head. “I’ll bet if you go to the public records, you’ll find that a lot of money has been flowing into McDowell’s campaign, most of it from people associated with Allison or Leyton.”
Hartley was already reaching into his briefcase to retrieve his computer. “You’re wireless here?”
Jack nodded.
Hartley fired up his computer and clicked a few keys. When he got to the screen he was looking for, he scrolled down as his eyes grew big. “Shit, McDowell already has about two hundred contributors, all for the max. That raises a bunch of red flags right there. It’s really early in this election cycle to have those kinds of contributions in a local judicial race. Of course, they give only home addresses, not employment.”
“I’ll bet you’ve got search capability that can identify their employers. Care to place a small wager that most of them are working for Allison or Leyton’s law firm?”
Hampton closed his computer as he thought. “Wow, this could be big, maybe bigger than that last story I did on you. I knew I should have just camped out in your parking lot and waited for the stories to roll in. Anything else?”
Jack put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands as he debated the last two issues. Then he spoke. “This is definitely background. We think that Allison may have caused the deaths of twenty of his former employees and had dead peasant policies on all of them. One of them was Robert Jones. He was suffocated in a nursing home just two weeks ago. Colby Stripling is a friend of mine and was his wife. You know she’s been charged with the murder. She didn’t do it. Allison did. Of course, the charge against her is public, but I’d appreciate it if you would leave her out of your story for now. That case hit the headlines and then disappeared. Colby can’t handle any more publicity.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Hampton said. “We’ll leave her out of the story provided I get an exclusive when you’re ready to talk.”
“Done.”
“Okay, I’ll ask one more time. Anything else?”
Jack nodded. “One more thing. I had parked my car in that lot across the street from the courthouse this morning and was waiting at the light. McDowell scheduled us for eight o’clock. No one else was around until I hear this guy behind me saying in a low voice I better quit practicing law in Fort Worth. He threatened me. I told him to go fuck himself, but it shook me up. Someone tried to kill Colby while we were in New Orleans for the Sugar Bowl. An eye witness gave the New Orleans police enough of a description that they did a sketch. It looks like the same guy threatened me this morning.”
“You think he was working for Allison?”
“Don’t know and you can’t suggest that. Besides the case with Allison, I’m involved in close to five hundred lawsuits involving multiple banks and mortgage companies. Seems I’ve managed to make a lot of enemies in a very short time in Fort Worth.”
“Can I just say that your life has been threatened?”
“That’s okay. In fact, I want you to do it. Maybe the publicity will back them off for a while. But, you also have to understand I called you because I’m trying to level the playing field with Judge McDowell.”
“I get it. When does your trial start?”
“Two weeks.”
“You can bet my story is going to get McDowell’s attention as well as that of Allison and Leyton.”
“I appreciate it, Hartley. At this point, I don’t care if I bring them all down.” Jack paused. “They have it coming.”
71
Jack got home that evening and was surprised to find J.D.’s pickup beside the garage. He found his son in the man cave, leaning back in a recliner with crutches beside him.
“J.D., what the hell happened?”
“I pulled a goddamn hamstring in my left leg at practice this afternoon. Hell, I’m in better shape than anyone out there. You know I worked my butt off all summer. Nobody stretches more than me. Then this happens a week and a half before our opening game.”
“Could have been worse. How long are you on crutches?”
“Trainer says about a week. I go in for therapy every day during the next week. Then, I may be able to do it on my own. I may be back for the third game of the season. Shit! Why couldn’t this have happened six weeks ago?”
Colby had come downstairs to fix a sandwich. “I told him that all major sports athletes sustained injuries. J.D., you might as well calm down and accept it. A few weeks isn’t your entire career.”
J.D. relaxed. “Both of you are right. Let’s change the subject. What’s going on with the charges against Colby and June’s lawsuit?”
Jack shook his head. He recounted the events of the day, including the threat on his life as he paced in front of the blank television. He finished with his interview with Hampton.
“Damn, Dad, you’re pulling out the heavy artillery. You really think McDowell will change his attitude?”
“Put it this way, he couldn’t be any worse.”
Colby had remained silent until Jack finished. “Look guys, I’m not worried about some damn motion, even if you do say it’s important. You received a threat on your life this morning. Someone’s trying to kill me. On top of that I’m charged with murder. None of us are safe. Is this ever going to stop? I feel like I’m confined to a bunker as it is. I had a peaceful, pleasant existence until you set foot in my life, Jackson Douglas. Now my life’s hell and you don’t seem to give a damn.” Colby bolted from the room and up the stairs.
“She’s right, of course,” Jack said in a low voice. “I really have screwed up her life, ours, too, to some extent. I could use a little help, though. Since you’re out of football for a few weeks, you want to be my trial paralegal?”
J.D. pulled his dad into a bear hug. “Damn right I do. You think one of us ought to tie one arm behind his back to make it a fair fight?”
Jack broke into a laugh. “That’s the Bryant spirit. Now, I need to go make amends with Colby. Maybe I can talk her into getting out of her bedroom a little more.”
Jack climbed the stairs and tapped on Colby’s bedroom door. Ten minutes later J.D. heard his footsteps and Jack joined him in the man cave.
“Colby okay?”
Jack shook his head. “About as well as can be expected. She’s calmed down for now, but the pressure is really getting to her. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better.”
72
Jack crawled out of bed and found a T-shirt and some cut-off jeans. He shut the bedroom door behind him and found Killer sleeping in the kitchen. With the events of the night before, no one let him out; so, Jack hooked a leash to his collar to take him for a morning walk before he retrieved the newspaper from the driveway. When they approached the front door, Killer stopped and growled, baring his teeth at something on the other side. Jack opened the door to find a handful of reporters on the lawn. Killer started barking and strainin
g at his leash. There were strangers on his lawn, and he would vanquish them.
Jack knew what was happening even before he got his paper. Hartley had put a rush on his story. He wanted it on the front page.
Before he could retrieve the paper, he had to come to an understanding with the reporters. “Heel, Killer.”
Killer stopped his barking and stood alongside Jack. “Morning, ladies and gentlemen.”
“Mr. Bryant, what can you tell us about Allison’s dead peasant policies?” one asked.
“Is it true your life was threatened yesterday?” a woman chimed in.
“Did you know that Judge McDowell had taken nearly $400,000 in contributions from Allison and his law firm?”
Jack put up his hands. “Truce, guys. Let me grab my newspaper so I’ll know what the hell you’re talking about. Then I’ll take a quick shower and put Killer out in the back yard so he can take a leak. I’ll be back here in thirty minutes.”
Jack returned to the kitchen where he let Killer out in back, knowing he would immediately make a beeline for the driveway wrought iron gate where he would warn the strangers to keep their distance. He poured a cup of coffee from the automatic brewer and sat down to read the Star Telegram. It was the lead story.
Headline: JUDGE ACCEPTS $400,000 FROM LITIGANT AND LAW FIRM
Headline: JUDGE REFUSES TO RELEASE DEAD PEASANT POLICIES
Small Banner: LAWYER’S LIFE THREATENED
My God, Jack thought, seeing it in bold print and all caps makes it sound even worse.
Judge Bruce McDowell, a long time Tarrant County District Judge, has received $400,000 from two hundred contributors in a campaign for re-election that has only just begun. The Star Telegram has traced the contributors to employees of Allison Southwest and its national law firm. Phillip Leyton is head of the firm’s Fort Worth office. Allison Southwest is embroiled in litigation in McDowell’s court with June Davis, a widow whose husband was once a porter for Allison. The lawsuit stems from a life insurance policy on William Davis. In court papers Ms. Davis said neither she nor her husband ever knew about the policy until a postal error delivered a $400,000 check to her. The check was payable to Allison Southwest.
Dead Peasants Page 21
