“This makes me hungry,” Tom said, showing the slip to Elias and telling him about the cookies.
“I remember those,” Elias said. “She used to put them in a jar in the cabinet above the stove so you couldn’t get to them.”
“And she kept putting them there after I could.”
Tom gently shut the book. “How can I throw this away?”
“You don’t have to.”
Tom set the cookie recipe book aside and repacked the box. He’d intended on flying through the boxes, but sitting in the warm afternoon sun, it was more pleasant to slow down and reminisce. Unfortunately, pleasant memories from the past couldn’t completely dispel Charlie Williams’s harsh accusation from the morning. Tom resisted the urge to tell Elias about the DA’s suspicions. As with Esther Addington, the old man would be horribly upset by the news, and sharing the information wouldn’t relieve Tom’s hurt. He looked through a box that contained high school yearbooks for both his parents and himself and set it aside to keep. When he opened the next box he caught his breath.
It contained legal-size file folders.
He pulled out the first one. Written on the tab was “Creswell Estate.” But to his surprise, it didn’t contain records from the probate court. Instead, there were extensive notes by his father that included Bible references. As he read the correspondence he realized it was a case in which his father helped Christians try to resolve a dispute without going to court.
“Did you know he did this?” Tom asked Elias, holding out a Settlement Agreement form that contained Bible verses about forgiveness.
Elias squinted at the papers for a minute. “Oh, yes. I’m the one who told Billy Creswell to call your father. After Billy’s father died, his two sisters who lived in Florida came up to claim an equal share of the estate. It upset Billy because he and his wife had cared for Billy’s parents without help from the sisters for years.”
Tom turned to the back page of the agreement to see what happened. “They gave Billy an extra $20,000 for eight years of care? That’s not much extra from an estate worth over $500,000.”
“Yeah, but Billy got a chance to say a few things to his sisters. I guess the repentance on their part was a bit shallow.”
“Especially if you measure that sort of thing by actions.”
“Which is a good test,” the old man agreed.
Tom continued checking the files in the box. Each one had to do with Christians and churches.
“I wonder why he didn’t keep these files at the office,” Tom said.
“Maybe because most of the meetings took place in the evenings.”
Tom pulled out the last folder in the box. This one was different. The case involved a rural church pastor who’d stolen money for years from the cash offerings received on Sunday morning.
“Do you know Rev. Dennis Mullin?” Tom asked.
“No.” Elias shook his head.
Tom turned over another sheet of paper. “He lived in Floyd County. Reverend Mullin was pilfering money from the offering plates on Sunday. The owner of a local department store became suspicious and started marking the bills he gave at church. The next week, the minister’s wife would use the money to buy fancy shoes or expensive clothes. Instead of seeking a criminal warrant, the leaders of the church tried the peacemaking thing.”
Tom kept reading. “But it didn’t work out. Mullin denied any wrongdoing and resigned.” Tom glanced up at Elias. “How can a man who claims to be a Christian do something so obviously wrong that anyone with half a conscience would say it’s a sin?”
“He divides his mind,” Elias said, raising his hand to his forehead. “One part preaches the gospel and prays for the sick. The other part steals money and justifies it by convincing himself that he’s underpaid for his work as a minister. The same thing happens for other kinds of sins. Many preachers live isolated lives. They hunker down and don’t let anyone get close enough to see what they’re really like. Then when temptation comes along, they don’t have anyone to call on for help or keep them accountable.”
“What kept you honest?”
“A mixture of love and fear. I both loved God and feared him.”
Tom thought about Harold Addington. “You say this happens a lot?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“And it’s not limited to ministers?”
“Any Christian can fall into this trap.”
Tom worked his way through ten boxes. The Addington name didn’t appear. Tom stood and stretched.
“Most of this stuff can go to the Burk family and be put in a yard sale,” Tom said. “Where should I put it?”
“Back in the garage but in a different place.”
Elias used his hands and arms to help himself up from the chair. “Watching you work has made me hungry. Let’s eat.”
______
The following morning Tom was drinking a cup of coffee at the office and talking to Bernice when the phone rang. She listened for a moment and put the caller on hold.
“Owen Harrelson is on the phone. Remember him? He’s the one who hit Randall Freiburger. He must have found out about you investigating the case. Do you want to talk to him?”
“Yes,” Tom responded quickly. “I’ll take it in the office.”
Tom quickly found the file. Getting a statement from the defendant before his insurance company started stonewalling would be a coup for the lawyer who eventually represented Freiburger.
“This is Tom Crane,” he said.
“Arthur Pelham asked me to give you a call about the Addington matter,” Harrelson said. “It’s a sensitive situation, but Mr. Pelham assures me I can speak frankly and confidentially with you about it.”
“Uh, sure.” Tom quickly had to reorient himself. “My interest in the matter isn’t as an attorney but as the executor of my father’s estate. I have to make sure trust account funds are returned to the proper party.”
“A duty I fully appreciate in my role as internal affairs officer for Pelham Financial.”
At a company like Pelham Financial, an internal affairs officer was a cross between an auditor and a CIA operative.
“As I’m sure you know,” Harrelson continued, “my job is to minimize the opportunities for employee embezzlement and investigate it when it occurs. Petty thefts can’t be totally avoided, but we’ve never suffered any major misappropriation of client funds. The Addington matter falls in the middle.”
“The middle?”
“Yes, everything is relative when you’re talking about a company that manages over $35 billion. All Pelham employees with access to client accounts are bonded, and I was about to turn the loss over to our insurer when Arthur stopped by my office and said you might be able to help us recover the funds off the record. That would allow us to dodge an embarrassing blip in publicity and a negative entry on our balance sheet. It would also remove the need for the insurer on the bond to recover the funds from Addington’s estate. It’s my understanding he had a very valuable stamp collection, so I feel certain we’d recover the money, one way or the other.”
Tom was impressed with Harrelson’s research. “What can you send me to support Pelham’s ownership of the funds?”
“I’ve reconstructed the transfers. Addington sold certificates of deposit for our bank in Barbados to legitimate buyers but didn’t report the transactions. Instead, he generated CDs to a shell company in the UK. He held the CDs for a monthly cycle, redeemed them, deposited the money in the Newcastle branch of a British bank, then transferred the funds out of the UK back to Barbados, where they ended up in an account for another dummy company he controlled.”
Tom quickly scribbled notes on a legal pad as Harrelson talked. He reviewed the arrows and boxes he’d drawn to illustrate the transactions.
“What did he give the real purchasers of the CDs to make them think their money was in the Barbados bank?”
“Phony certificates that looked legitimate. Because Addington was the only person who knew about the inve
stments, there wouldn’t be any communication from the home office with the customers at the time of purchase. Monthly transfers to Pelham’s bank in Barbados for new CD accounts were averaging ten to twenty million euros a month, so everything looked legit. I’m not sure about Addington’s long-range plans, but he only diverted funds from people and companies that expressed an interest in keeping the money on deposit for longer than a year. It was probably the beginnings of a Ponzi scheme in which he paid interest on existing accounts from funds collected on new ones. It would be impossible for one of our advisers working in the US market to pull something like this off because the deposit information passes through multiple hands; however, Addington was on a corporate island by himself developing a new market. Selling CDs was his job, and he was very good at it. Of course, it helped that we pay among the best rates for bank CDs on the planet. As soon as he died, there was an automatic audit of his accounts, and the embezzlement was discovered.”
“Sounds like a breakdown in organizational structure.”
Harrelson was silent for a moment. “That would be one way to put it. There are safeguards in place to prevent something like this from happening in the future.”
“How did you find out about the phony companies in the UK and Barbados? Wouldn’t that information be protected by privacy laws?”
Harrelson coughed. “We have a close working relationship with the bank regulators in Barbados. Discreet inquiries are allowed if we provide reasonable grounds for obtaining information.”
“It’s a more informal financial world than here.”
“And in some ways more efficient. Hopefully, this is the background information you need. How do you want me to send you the data? I can send hard copies via overnight courier or scan it as an e-mail attachment to a secure server. It’s about twenty pages in all.”
“E-mail is fine.” Tom gave him the address. “Did Arthur mention that I’d like to obtain probate court approval before I turn over the money? I can ask the judge to seal the order after it’s entered. That would also protect me if the state bar association ever makes an inquiry.”
“What would trigger an inquiry?”
“Nothing, unless someone complains. In this situation the only person who might do that would be a member of Addington’s family. Are you going to notify them about the embezzlement?”
“We’d hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. Harold Addington is dead, so he’s not subject to prosecution. Return of the money will satisfy our interests. The only loss to the company is the interest we’ll have to pay to the legitimate holders of CDs whose money never made it into their accounts. If Addington’s widow and children never know what happened, it’s fine with us.”
“That’s generous, but I may have to tell Rose Addington, the executrix of Harold Addington’s estate.”
“Why?”
“She’s persistent.”
“About what?”
Tom suddenly felt nervous. At that moment, he couldn’t remember why he’d decided to show Rose the bank account information and deeply regretted that he had.
“The relationship between her father and mine,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Ms. Addington believes my father was representing her father, which was probably true since the money ended up in a designated trust account.”
“Why did Addington hire your father?”
“Based on what you’ve told me, I believe he intended to use my father’s trust account to launder the money. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“That’s what I concluded too.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Does Ms. Addington know about the designated trust account?”
Tom licked his lips. “Yes, I told her.”
“Why did you do that?” Harrelson raised his voice.
“Because I had to respond to a subpoena. Ms. Addington showed up in court, then we had a meeting in my father’s office.”
“That’s not a reason to tell her about the money.”
“It was a mistake.” Tom saw no way to wiggle out of an admission.
“Obviously, and because of it you’ll have to tell her about the theft. Arthur was willing to spare Addington’s family the pain of disclosure, but that’s no longer possible. Can I trust you to handle it?”
Tom felt like a guilty schoolboy. “Yes, sir.”
“And will you be able to obtain a sealed order from the probate judge without generating any publicity?”
“Yes.”
“I hope so. The supporting data will be in your in-box within thirty minutes.”
“Should I communicate in the future with you or Arthur?”
“Me. You’ll have my contact information in the e-mail.”
The call ended. Tom felt stupid for telling Rose Addington, but as executor of the estate he’d not done anything wrong. His error came in making the powerful men at Pelham Financial uncomfortable about his actions.
A few minutes later he received an e-mail from Harrelson’s administrative assistant. Tom printed out the information. It was the type of clear-cut evidence he loved to receive in cases at Barnes, McGraw, and Crowther. Harrelson’s staff had done their homework. The dates, documents, and amounts matched. The identity of the European investors was blacked out to protect their privacy, but Harold Addington’s name appeared at every crucial juncture.
It felt odd reading confidential bank records released without any judicial action or notification to the owner of the accounts. Money poured into Addington’s Barbados account over a two-week period from the Newcastle bank and was withdrawn five days before John Crane opened the designated trust account. Harrelson was right when he said the lax island ways were more efficient when it came to catching bad guys. Of course, the same attitude also made being a bad guy easier. Tom put the information in the empty Addington file and placed the folder in the bottom drawer of the desk.
That evening Tom didn’t look through any more boxes in Elias’s garage. Nothing could trump the information that streamed through cyberspace.
After supper, he and Elias sat on the front porch in a pair of weathered wooden rockers. It was cool but comfortable. Rover ambled off the porch and sniffed around the yard.
“He won’t wander off, will he?” Elias asked. “When I’ve gone for walks with him, I always put on his leash.”
“It’s okay. He considers this home now.”
“How about you?”
“You keep bringing that up. Are you trying to forget about the great job offer I received in Atlanta?”
“Have you accepted it yet?”
“No, but I will.”
They rocked back and forth in silence for a few minutes.
“I wish I didn’t have the pressure of shutting down my father’s office,” Tom said. “A few weeks of vacation sitting on this porch in the evenings would be nice right now.”
“What kind of pressure? I thought you were just calling clients and helping them find other lawyers.”
“That part is easy. The pressure has to do with Harold Addington. I can’t tell you the details, but it’s a serious situation, and I’m about to be at odds with Rose.”
“You need someone like your father to step in and be a peacemaker.”
“I don’t have a problem with Rose. The wrongs are in the past, and she didn’t do them. But I’m going to have to tell her some very hard things that are going to hurt her and devastate the rest of the Addington family if she chooses to let them know.”
Elias stopped rocking. “That’s why you asked me the other day how a serious Christian could commit an obvious sin. You were thinking about Harold Addington.”
“Yeah,” Tom admitted, “but please don’t ask me any details.”
“I’m too old to be curious, but I’ll pray for you to have wisdom.”
“And that Rose will be able to accept the truth.”
chapter
TWENTY
The next day Tom decided it would be best to call Rose as soon as h
e reached the office. There was no use putting off the inevitable. He took out the Addington folder and stared at the number for a few seconds with a heavy heart before picking up the phone. Rose was a nice young woman who loved her father. To permanently soil his memory with a stain that couldn’t be removed was sobering. Tom could only hope Elias’s prayers proved potent. He placed the call.
“Hello,” Rose said.
“It’s Tom Crane. I have some information to go over with you.”
“Me too,” Rose responded. “When can we get together?”
“Uh, any time today.”
Tom doubted anything Rose had found would prove relevant.
“I’ll be down to see you in a couple of hours. Mum isn’t feeling too well, and I have some things to do around here first.”
“Okay.”
After the call ended Bernice arrived at the office. Tom saw that she still moved slower than normal. Leaving the Addington file on his desk, he stepped into the reception area.
“Did your back flare up again?” he asked. “I thought it was getting better.”
“I raked a few leaves yesterday, which was a big mistake. It will loosen up.”
“You can go home early if you need to. Rose Addington is coming in to meet with me in a few hours.”
Bernice eased herself into her chair. “I won’t go home until she leaves. My back may hurt, but I’m more uncomfortable with the idea of leaving you alone with her. She’s a clever thing, and when she starts flapping her eyelashes at you and jabbering away in that accent of hers, you’re likely to buy whatever she’s selling.”
Tom sat on the edge of Bernice’s desk. “I appreciate the offer of protection, but this is going to be a very painful conversation that should be handled privately. I have information that confirms some bad financial dealings by her father. My guess is that I’m going to need a box of tissues, not a witness to a meltdown.”
“At least leave the door cracked open. I can position my chair—”
“Nope,” Tom interrupted, then stood up and eyed Bernice suspiciously. “Did you ever do that when my father was meeting with a client?”
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