The Tipping Point: A Wainwright Mystery

by Walter Danley

  “What the hell is up with that?”

  “Oh, and look at this. The cover letter is cc’d to Jules Jarvis and Bennie Rubens of Hockney, Jarvis & Rubens. Well, what do you think of that, Tommy?”

  “How much are the checks for?”

  “The key-man policy is two million, like ours, but the addendum policy check is for three point five million. Hey—three and a half million might be a nice reason to have a guy knocked off.”

  “We need to know if Clyburn and Keating both had ‘addendum policies,’ is what I think. Hell, I want to know if the rest of us have them as well.”

  “You know what? Jules still writes the insurance for the company. Let’s ask our former partner and insurance expert what is going on.” Wainwright picked up the phone and speed-dialed the Castle at Lake Tahoe. “Hi, June, it’s Garth Wainwright. Oh, I’m fine, thank you. Say, June, I need to speak to Jules if he’s available. Great, I’ll wait.” Wainwright placed a hand over the mouthpiece and spoke to Tommy while he listened. “She’s got to go downstairs to get him.

  “Oh, hi, Jules. How hav…what’s terrible? The six o’clock news, Jules…I didn’t see it…of course, we get NBC. Yes, I will watch the eleven o’clock…but you said it’s…Arnold, our Arnold? Jesus Christ, Almighty! How? When did this happen, Jules? Hang on a minute, Tommy is here with me. I want him to get on the extension. Tommy, get on with Jules and me. Arnold Chaplain committed suicide.”

  Tommy and Wainwright listened to Jules relate the TV report of Arnold’s apparent suicide. “He was found by his landlord in his apartment, face down on a chess board. She called 911. The TV reporter said the cops found a bag of unidentified capsules near the body. The apartment was sealed and any evidence the police found was delivered to the crime lab. They said the ME estimated the time of death was about noon today.”

  “Oh, Jules. I’m so sorry, sorry for all of us. No, I know…but for the man he once was. Tommy, could you give Jules the rundown about Bennie on the insurance theory? I really need to catch my breath. Sure, thanks. Bye, Jules.” Wainwright took a seat at his desk and hung his head between his knees, trying to get blood back into his head.

  When Tommy hung up, Wainwright said, “I can’t help but feel our prosecution of the Five had something to do with his death.”

  “Yeah, but there is one sure thing. Now, we have one fewer murder suspect. I guess another view might be that maybe he did do them and took his life out of guilt. Arnold’s dead. I can’t believe it.”

  “I haven’t processed in my mind just what he had become, probably from that shit in the capsules he was stuffing in his face. I’ll bet anything it’s an overdose of that damned MDMA Robert described. I’ll just betcha it is,” Wainwright said. “Oh, Arnold, why did you change from the man everyone loved and admired? Did you even know what was happening to you?” Wainwright moaned to the air above his head.

  The next day, the Seattle papers ran a page-three story under the caption REAL ESTATE TYCOON’S SUICIDE. The story was not carried by other news media outside of the city. Wainwright looked in many major city publications and found nothing. He thought, so much for having sought national prominence. If we’d achieved that, the story would be everywhere. In this case, it was fortunate that news coverage was thin.

  A week later, the newspaper reported that the autopsy confirmed the cause of death as an overdose of the illegal drug, Ecstasy. The death by suicide of a partner was not the kind of publicity the firm needed, if it was to have any chance to survive.

  Twenty-five

  “You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.” ~ Mae West

  WEEKEND—DECEMBER | Two lounge chairs were on the beach adjoining the very posh resort hotel where Mr. and Mrs. Avery Dannenberg were registered. The uniformed hotel waiter served cocktails on the sand. The lovely female in the brief bikini, sipping her second Mai Tai, said, “You sure know how to treat a lady, Huggy Bear.”

  “Babe, I’m not getting too much sun, am I?”

  “Yeah, you look a little pink on your neck and nose. Here, let me put some more sunblock on you. Lean up a minute,” she said as she moved from her chair and knelt next to him.

  He guessed it was a guy thing, but he couldn’t force himself to wrench his gaze from her fantastic cleavage. The man leaned forward to give her access to the back of his neck, reluctantly terminating the titty tour. She turned his face toward the hotel entrance to apply the cream. That is when he saw the Mercedes limo pull under the hotel’s porte-cocheres. An average-looking man stepped from the rear compartment wearing a white suit with a white Panama hat on his head and white socks with brown-strapped sandals on the other end of his unremarkable frame. His white shirt was open at the collar. The man blotted his forehead with a white handkerchief and said something to the doorman. The man glanced in the direction of the two sun-worshippers on his way to enter the hotel lobby.

  When she finished spreading the lotion on his neck, she massaged the residual lotion on her décolletage. He had a rakish smile and said, “Why don’t you let me do that for you?”

  “Well, if we were in our suite, I’d let you do anything you want with me, Huggy Bear, but out here on the beach, I’m afraid you’d get carried away and embarrass us both. You are such a horny ol’ Huggy Bear!”

  “Then, my dear girl, since you’re feeling coy and shy, let’s head to the room so your horny ol’ Huggy Bear can ravish your beautiful bod. You and your gorgeous tits genuinely have me in the mood. I think I’ll make mad passionate love to you in every way known to man—and three known only to the wild animals of the forest.”

  Before he completed his proclamation, they were grabbing their personal stuff and dashing for their penthouse suite, leaving the hotel staff to clean up after them.

  And he did! After the wicked spirit of erotica was exterminated, Avery Dannenberg showered and dressed in Bermuda shorts, sandals, and a very colorful Hawaiian shirt. His better half came out of her bathroom with a soft fluffy white towel wrapped around her wet hair and another draped around her shapely figure. She could smell the freshness of the ocean breeze wafting in from the open French doors that carried the sweet scent of jasmine. It’s so wonderful to step out of a hot shower and be greeted with this perfumed air. The hotel furnished the suite daily with large bouquets of local flowers which also scented the air with their fragrance. Then she noticed what her roommate had selected to wear for their luncheon date.

  “Is there a tourist bus waiting for you downstairs? If there is, you’ll fit right in with that get-up.”

  “What’s wrong with what I have on?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with it, as long as you don’t intend to be seen with me. Maybe you could pick up a housewife from Kansas in the lobby with that outfit.”

  “You think this is inappropriate?”

  “Bennie Rubens, you were always a class act with your selection of attire. The shirt and shorts are definitely NOT. And for God’s sake, lose the sandals and white socks.”

  “Okay, I’ll change while you get dressed. I’d like to go out for lunch, when you’re ready. Geez, BJ, we’re beginning to sound like an old married couple, don’t you think?”

  “Hey, don’t you dare compare me to that woman you ran out on. Yolanda thinks she got half of what you owned. Wouldn’t she be surprised to learn you’ve been stashing millions offshore for years? And don’t forget who helped you do it, Huggy Bear!”

  “Settle down, babe. I don’t want a fight, especially not after you just screwed my socks off.” Bennie took a step toward BJ, who was holding the bath towel in front of her. “And there’s no one that can out-do you in that department. Come on, get your duds on and we’ll go down for a terrific lunch,” he said as he made a grab for the towel to pull her close.

  In Bennie’s arms, she asked, “What, are you planning to sell me some life insurance or fuck me again?”

  When Bennie didn’t respond, BJ spun away, giggling, she pranced into the dressing room. Bennie stood with his mouth a
gape, holding a wet towel.

  The café in the hotel served a delicious cold lobster salad that worked perfectly with the fine bottle of French chardonnay Bennie ordered. After they finished lunch, Bennie wanted a snifter of Remy and a cigar, his usual. BJ wanted to go shopping, her usual. Even partners in crime don’t always agree it seemed.

  On the day they checked into the hotel as the Dannenbergs, Bennie had given her a greeting card envelope when they entered their suite. BJ opened it and saw that the card’s cover was a photo of a sailboat on a deep blue sea with a sandy beach in the foreground. Bennie had written a message inside: “We sail into our new life together, forever.” Bennie wrote how much he loved her and what a wonderful life they would have together. There was something else in the envelope. It was the universally coveted Black American Express card, issued in the name of Barbara J. Dannenberg.

  She looked at him with a tear in her eye. “Oh Bennie, this is so much. Thank you Huggy Bear, thank you, thank you.”

  “BJ, I was never able to show you how much you mean to me while we were forced to sneak around in Bellevue. I have so much to make up to you…for all the flowers I never sent. For the jewelry you never got. And for all the trips we never took. This will be the start of our life together, forever.”

  After lunch, BJ took her Black Amex card and had been absent from the café no more than fifteen minutes when the average-looking man sat down at Bennie’s table. He took off his Panama, setting it on the chair BJ recently vacated and said, “You look like a contented man. What was it, that cigar or the piece of ass?”

  Bennie looked carefully at the average looking person across from him. “You are still one crude son of a bitch, aren’t you Larry? But to answer your obscene question, you must know what Rudyard Kipling said: ‘A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke, and a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.’” Bennie puffed his Cuban Hoya de Monterey and blew the smoke toward the uninvited guest. “Didn’t we agree we’d avoid each other in public? We did, and Larry, this is as public as it gets, don’t you think?” He clamped his teeth on the fine cigar and bent to sign the lunch tab, ignoring any response Larry might have offered.

  “I need some money.”

  Bennie did not ignore that. “Don’t give me that bullshit. After the last…err…accident, you collected your ten percent of the insurance claim.” Bennie noticed Larry’s voice was more gravelly sounding than when they spoke a few months ago. It grated on his ears and was uncomfortable for him to listen. Maybe all Bahamian lawyers eventually sound like that. Could be the water, I guess. Bennie understood from his insurance days a crooked lawyer was the best person to have on a flaky deal. “What’s your partner’s name, the trustee of my trust?”

  “Bentley Slocum is the name he goes by now. I’m pretty sure Bentley is not his real name, but that’s what’s on his law degree and license, so who knows what his name is? Maybe he changed it before law school. I think he picked Bentley because it sounds high-tone and all. I don’t really know what it is and, in truth, don’t care.”

  “Did you have my trust fund books audited as I asked? Where’s the report from the accountants? I want to see it.”

  “Bennie, I told you before you left Washington it would take longer. When they’re done, they’re done, and you’ll get the report. Don’t be so nervous, little brother, okay?”

  “Oh, I’m not nervous. Why would I be nervous with your alcoholic partner as trustee of my money? Listen, Lar, I know to the penny how much is supposed to be in that account, and it damn well better all be there or I’m holding you responsible.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, little brother? You gonna have me hit? You gonna get somebody to cause me an accident? You can’t handle that kind of shit your own little lily-white self, Bennie. Well, that I am damn sure of! You might have been smart enough to dream up this insurance scam, but it took your big brother to make it happen, now didn’t it? Who found that ol’ boy who’d do the nasty for us? I did. Who was it that went out to meet with your partners? I did. Who made all the arrangements so the accidents came off without a hitch—don’t bother to answer, I’ll tell ya. It was me, that’s who. Me! Where the hell would you be without me, Bennie?”

  Bennie looked at his brother, this non-person, this man who had been putting him down his whole life through hateful eyes. Larry Rubens was just like everyone else, but Bennie was not going to take it, not anymore. Larry belonged in the same group of disrespectful assholes as his partners, Arnold and Hockney. They never did show him any respect. If they had any opportunity to demean him, they did, and with gusto. They didn’t think Bennie Rubens was their equal. Really? I’ve shown those guys in Bellevue just how equal I am, and I’ll show you too, big brother.

  “Well, that’s not exactly accurate, Larry. How do you suppose we got the key-man insurance policies revised? Did you make that happen? No, you didn’t. And, by the way, that is how the money got into the trust account that paid you your fee in the first place, you dunce!”

  Bennie drew the sweet smoke into his mouth, held it, then blew a stream toward his blood relative persecutor. “Two things allowed me to amend the policies. Number one, I was the biggest producer for Seattle Life in their history; still am, I think. It’s called name recognition, big brother. Some minimum wage clerk is not about to question an amended application for an approved policy from their Numero uno producer. Number two, I was smart enough to keep Hockney, Jarvis & Rubens letterhead from back in the day. When they get a letter from me, saying this additional form had inadvertently not been mailed, they fall all over themselves to oblige Mr. Bennie Rubens. No one seemed to know or care that good ol’ Jules is the agent of record. I’ve kept my license current and listed under the old corporation, so it all worked. And, by the way, I’m not registered here under my real name, so don’t be asking for me. Hey…how the hell did you find me here, anyway?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. This is the fanciest hotel on Grand Bahama Island. I figured that’s where you’d be staying, so I showed your picture to the doorman. I did that earlier this morning while you and the babe were still doing the nasty upstairs in your penthouse suite. Yeah, they even told me what room you were in, and I already know you’re registered as Mr. and Mrs. Avery Dannenberg. Where the hell did that name come from? I should have been a detective instead of a lawyer, right?”

  “Oh, that would be a great tragedy, since you’re such a marvelous lawyer.”

  “Hey, I’m a damn good lawyer, and don’t you forget it. Those partners of yours, they bought me as Dallas all the way. Kind of ironic, don’t you think? I use Dallas as a moniker, and my law partner is a guy who probably also has a made-up name. Look, Bennie, I’m the one that made this operational. Big diff. I should be a full partner, not just your clever commission flunky.”

  “Clever, yeah, sure. What’s your point, Larry?”

  “Like I said, I need some money. Give me my share of the goddamn money, Ben.”

  “How much more do you think you deserve, Larry?”

  “Half. I want half of what’s in the accounts. And like you, I know how much is in the accounts. I don’t need the damn accountants to tell me.”

  “Really? How much is in there?”

  “The two accounts combined, around twenty-three million and change. I figure I should get at least eleven million for all I’ve done for you.”

  “Tell you what, big brother. You bring me the auditor’s reports so we can confirm the numbers, and then we’ll split the insurance proceeds, right down the middle, okay?”

  “You mean it? Down the middle?”

  “Sure, down the middle. You’re right. You did earn half, and I’m sorry. I should have seen it before you had to point it out to me. Just to be fair, though, your half of the insurance isn’t half of what’s in the accounts. Around eight million is from the three insurance policies. The rest was from another venture I’ve been working. You’ve already taken a percentage up front, right? So we ded
uct that and there are other expenses. You paid the hitman, so you know, as well as I do, how much that was. If memory serves, the four hits….”

  “Hey, hang on just a goddamn second. There were three, not four contracts; just three. I argued with that guy about taking out the hooker, but he said it needed to be done. Collateral damage, he called it, but no way should that be deducted out of my part.”

  “Larry, to ignore the facts does not change them. You said you wanted to be an equal partner, right? Okay, then, that means you must also be equal on the expenses, not just the revenue. We did two hits at seventy-five thousand, one at one hundred fifty, and the hooker cost us thirty, so that’s, what? Half of the three-thirty plus the eight hundred thousand you already drank…sorry, I mean spent. Now, if I’ve got the math right, that’s…let’s see…so we’ll subtract nine hundred sixty-five thousand from your half and give you the difference, right? You know, doing this stuff in my head isn’t easy, but…that will make it…oh, shit. Let’s call it three point one million. Not a bad payday, Larry. We’ll fix this as soon as I can go over the reports, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure, thank you, Bennie. I appreciate you hangin’ in there for me. Hey, this makes up for all the little brother crap you used to dump on me when we were kids. I’ll get those papers over to you no later than Monday. I’ll stay on the auditors to make sure it’s done.” Larry Rubens, aka Dallas, left the hotel in his new Mercedes, confident his little brother would do the right thing.

  So too was the younger Rubens confident the right thing would be done. Bennie would consider the situation—he was always careful about the situation—and come up with his plan to do the right thing. He remembered a Mark Twain quotation that seemed applicable to this particular situation: “Actions speak louder than words, but not nearly as often.”