When The Butterflies Come

by Rosemary Ness Bitner

  The defense counsel should have rightly said, “Hell no. Those companies are worth thirty million. I want a bond of ten million.” But he said, “Okay,” instead, obviously not realizing that the bond could be a barrier to discovery of a multi-million-dollar claim. Solomon was inwardly gleeful, for now he had free run of the books and records of his named defendant and his companies for several months with negligible cost. He quickly fished a Ulysses S. Grant from his wallet and handed it to Judge Sandbone.

  “Done,” said the judge as he snarled at the defendant’s counsel, regarding him an incompetent idiot.

  The staff legal team for the defense sat in the second row, sinking back into their chairs as a hush descended upon the judge’s chambers. With swift strokes of legal genius, Solomon destroyed any chance the defense had to kill the case in infancy by filing a motion to dismiss, based upon the Statute of Wills, had a substantial bond been demanded. Discovery would have never drawn a breath. Now there would be records and depositions. Two law school students who clerked for the judge sat in the back row of his chambers office. One whispered to the other, “The plaintiff now has a copy of the codicil! Can you believe what we just saw? The plaintiff has a heartbeat and this case has legs!”

  “Amazing how the defense blew it. Weirdest case I’ve seen yet. Should be fascinating.” The second law clerk chuckled. The fight was on!

  David’s reaction to the production of the codicil was not what his lawyers expected. Far from showing any hint of anger at their bumbling, he was nonplussed and resolute. From the outset, he’d made it clear to his legal team that he viewed this litigation as a great opportunity to totally destroy a man whom he now regarded as a pretender to his throne. His orders were that no legal avenue of counterattack would go unexploited; no method to delay the proceedings and extract their toll on Bob’s costs would be bypassed; no motion, no matter how questionable, ridiculous, or unreasonable would be omitted; and every attempt to destroy Bob’s relationships would be made.

  David ordered Bob’s new upstart investment advisory firm attacked. All regulatory contacts that David’s law firms had were to be engaged in constantly harassing Bob’s new firm. There would be false complaints filed against him at the assorted securities’ regulatory bodies. He would be investigated endlessly in an effort to drive him from the securities business, thus proving David’s contention that he was not worthy to inherit the companies. David reveled in the anticipation of pitched battle against a weaker, poorly financed foe. It would be like tearing the wings off a fly all over again.

  And so the battle went. Motions flew. Counterclaims were filed. Expenses mounted. Bob’s personal assets dwindled rapidly. His bank account declined to a zero balance in less than two months, his pension plan assets lasting another two. He had two real properties which he sold cheaply for badly needed cash.

  All the while, David kept up the off-court pressure. He bribed Judith to sign a false affidavit that Bob was a worthless whoremonger who had boasted to her that he suckered an old man into giving him his companies. She received a free condominium and season tickets for her beloved Denver Broncos.

  She was soon to learn that she’d made her own Faustian bargain. David told her that in order to keep her job she was required to allow a drug dealer from Columbia to move into her home with her and the children. After a short period of time, Judith was sleeping with a criminal drug dealer who was firmly ensconced in her bed. She was required to make drug drops to local high schools where David’s network of distributors supplied Colorado school children their heroin and cocaine. Meanwhile, marijuana plants were grown in her basement. Her marijuana distribution network soon was expanded to cocaine sales smuggled into Colorado from Columbia. The proceeds were turned over to David, the drug smugglers’ financier.

  Things looked dire for Bob. A counterclaim attack was launched against him. Competing mutual fund firms with multiple funds and a dozen or two dozen wholesalers, combined with multimillion-dollar television and print advertising budgets, and with multimillion commission payment kickbacks to broker-dealers for shelf space, were able to raise billions of dollars compared to Bob’s mere hundreds of millions. By the logic of David’s countercomplaint, Bob should have done as well as any competitor and he should owe David one hundred million in damages and lost profits.

  The nefarious counterclaim was eventually dismissed, but it achieved its desired effect. Bob needed to pay legal expenses and experts to continue to bring his case forward and disprove the fallacies of the counterclaims. His resources were rapidly dwindling and he resorted to borrowing on credit cards to pay legal bills, food, and rent. He was beyond broke, reduced to selling personal items to keep himself and his case alive. The stamp collection he’d started as a Boy Scout and his coin collection were both sold. If he were a fly, he would’ve known his wings were torn off.

  Every day and nights until 9:00 p.m. Bob made cold calls to retail client prospects to try to generate income. His avenues of employment in the traditional brokerage business were shut off. David had filed, as Bob’s former employer, reports with the regulatory authorities that he was a dangerous and unstable person who had to be dismissed. Things were looking hopelessly bleak for him until, by some miracle, he happened to make a cold call to a former Catholic nun.

  As luck—or divine intervention—would have it, this poor nun had a crippling terminal disease and had left her convent to rest at home. A good-hearted soul, she took in men who were afflicted with the AIDS virus as boarders for modest rents. When her phone rang that night, she was in the anguished throes of trying to decide what to do with the million dollars she’d just inherited from her late father. She knew nothing of finances or money management and actually held money in some disdain, but had prayed for guidance from Almighty God to put her inheritance to good use.

  It was Bob on the line asking her if she might be in need of investment assistance. A person of faith, Nun Bertie was certain the call from Bob was divinely inspired. She listened to him for a while and then shouted toward the kitchen ceiling, as if to peer through all man-made structures and call out to the heavens, “Thank you, God, for answering my prayers. You have sent this man to me just as I was praying for your guidance.” Returning to the phone, she said, “Young man, you come over here right away.”

  And with that, a great relationship was formed. Bob invested Bertie’s monies well. She took in more AIDS sufferers and took out insurance policies on them as well. Bertie and Bob together combined their wits and wills to postpone death for as many sufferers as possible for as long as possible.

  Bertie was not a soul who held back. Every person known to her—and she knew a great many people—soon came to her home to get acquainted with Bob. She declared that Bob was sent to her by God and that her prayers were answered in her darkest hour. As further proof that he was sent as a blessing, Bertie pointed out how much her cat, Tom, loved to rub against him.

  Knowing that Bertie’s good heart operated from divine guidance, friends of hers were soon calling Bob to help them with their investments as well. She had friends over for coffees to meet him. Tom became very attached to him at these get-togethers. Bob was allergic to Tom, but for the goodwill and the good business he overdosed on allergy pills and let Tom rub all over him while he sneezed and snorted into his handkerchief.

  Perhaps miracles beget more miracles. There are things that happen in one’s life that reach beyond human comprehension. Bob received an anonymous phone call one evening about Judith’s new house guest and duty fuck-buddy. He was wanted in Australia on an arrest warrant as an accomplice to a homicide. Bob played sleuth, parking his car several blocks away and watching the house in the evenings. Only two nights into Bob’s detective work, the drug dealer pulled his car in front of the garage and stopped briefly while the garage door opened. That was all Bob needed. He casually walked down the street, passing the garage just as the car pulled in and the door was closing. Unseen, Bob got the license plate and went to the police with what
he knew. Two days later, a county sheriff came to Judith’s, picked up the Columbian, and shipped him off to Australia to serve out a twenty-year prison sentence.

  The next miracle came from Judith herself. Completely unexpected, she called Bob the evening before the case went to trial.

  “I just called to tell you not to get your hopes up about your trial tomorrow. You are going to lose. The judge has been bought and paid for. I got that from the chief financial officer at UGGA. He’s in on all of it and told me all about it. I can’t do anything about what’s happened to you in the past except to say I’m sorry. I did what I believed I had to do to survive for me and my kids. I don’t expect you to understand and I know we can never be friends again after all that’s happened, with the bitterness and all, but I want you to know that I’ll try to do what little I can for you when I can. Just don’t get upset with your lawyer when you lose tomorrow. You two will have lost before you walk into the courtroom.”

  Bob related that conversation to Solomon. “She’s crazy,” Sol declared. “The judge can’t be bribed.”

  Bob pondered Sol’s reaction. It made him feel uneasy.

  The third miracle—or turn of fortune, whatever it was—came from Barbara.

  “Bob, I called to talk. It’s time. The fund is going nowhere without you. The salesmen aren’t selling, the assets are dwindling. David is now calling dealers and offering to buy assets to manage temporarily to show that he can grow sales without you, but they aren’t real sales. I hear him crowing that he’s got you pounded into the ground and nearly destroyed, and it’s making me sick to hear it. I just thought I’d call and see if you’re ready for some help over there. It must be hard running a one-man band with no money and no help.”

  “Well, Barbara, it is hard, and I could use the help, but I can’t afford to pay you.”

  “Never mind that. How much money are you managing, and how much do you need?”

  “I could use about twelve million, and I’m about ten million short.”

  “Okay, well, when do you want me to start?”

  “Barbara, I just told you I can’t afford you.”

  “Yes, you can. I’ll bring ten million with me.”

  “Barbara, we can’t rip assets out of UGGA. I have a court order prohibiting that. My lawyer and the judge would both kill me. My case would be lost.”

  “Who said anything about taking from the fund? I’ll bring some of my father’s money with me. Chief has controlling interests in six casinos. He also owns three ranches, water rights in Montana and California, and overriding royalties on twelve gold mines and three hundred oil wells. I’m one rich Indian princess. I’ve just been waiting for the right situation to go into business on my own. Chief said I needed to give it time. It’s time, Bob. It’s time for us. What do you say we become equal partners?”

  “You’re putting me on.”

  “Nope. I’m Big Chief’s only child, and Daddy likes to spoil his Little Sparrow. You want an Injun princess squaw for your very own? She comes with a heap of wampum, Big Horse, and she knows the securities business inside and out. And she can do many other things also. She’s a good trade.”

  “And what’s the trade?”

  “I told you. You be an equal partner with this Injun girl. I own half, and you own half. I’ll bring more to the trade too. We’ll get an audience with tribal chiefs, some of whom have a big heap of wampum. Also, I heard some white men think Injun girls know how to make great whoopee. We might see about that, but the deal must come first.”

  “What makes you think I’m interested in whoopee at a time like this?” Bob teased her. He loved her and they both could feel it.

  “All the girls in the office talk, and the grapevine leads back to me. I hear all. All the girls report white boy Bob looks long and hard at my backside while I walked away. You might as well have put up smoke signals, Big Horse. I heard you looked at my ass many times and took deep breaths after you looked. You’re not very good at concealing your thoughts, white boy.”

  “Barbara, I want children and a woman with a home life, not all business.”

  “That’s okay. I have ranches and horses and bows and arrows. Things work themselves out.”

  “You make everything sound like it’s a business proposition.”

  “It is. Children will come in time. Big Horse is always in a rush. Chief says to give everything time. He’s very wise. This Injun girl isn’t stupid. Sparrow knows what a woman’s role is, but this Injun girl also has a master’s degree in business administration and all licenses for securities compliance. You could do worse, and you did do a lot worse, remember? Now it’s time you try thinking with your big head instead of your little head. Deal or no deal?”

  Bob only paused for a breath. “Deal, but from now on you call me Bob.”

  “Okay, Bob Big Horse. I’ll be at your office tomorrow morning with the paperwork for my stock shares and my license transfers, and some checks to open some accounts.”

  “Checks from whom?”

  “From Daddy. I cleared all this with him ahead of time.”

  “How did you know I’d go for this?”

  “Because I’m Barbara, and I’m a woman. Women know things about men before men can figure out what the woman is even thinking. Trust me and you will never go wrong, Bob. Your decision was never in question; Daddy’s was. He thought dealing with a white boy could end up getting me screwed, but he’s okay with you now. I told him that you were my ticket out of David’s pederast playpen, and that you were very ethical, not like some white men. I told him I’ve known you long enough to know you’re the guy I want to work with and maybe even more someday. Anyway, I told him he could trust you. So we both trust you, Bob. You and I will need to go meet my father.”

  “Where and when? Don’t tell me he lives in a teepee.”

  “No, silly, we have a huge ranch in Montana, but Father does keep a teepee out behind the house. He goes there to think sometimes and to meet with the other chiefs, like the chiefs did in the old days. We’re not reservation Indians anymore, but we do belong to the Cane Breaks Cherokees and we are true to our roots and our people.”

  “How did Cherokees get from Georgia to Montana?”

  “It’s a story that might make you cry. I’ll tell you about it, but this is not the time.”

  Within an hour, Bob’s firm became Bob and Barbara’s firm. Its assets instantly grew six-fold and Bob went from wondering where he was going to find money for food and rent to becoming a viable business. He woke that morning a lonely pauper, contemplating the surrender of his licenses and closing his business, possibly even running away to Alaska or South America and starting life over from scratch. He went to sleep that night with his mind leaping with future possibilities for the firm and anticipation of a life shared with his heartthrob Barbara. As he fell away into slumber, he visualized her braided hair swinging rhythmically back and forth across her mesmerizing backside while she walked before him the first day he met her. She was mysterious, smart, and savvy and had a beautifully innocent savageness about her. She had more of life’s spirit within her than anyone he’d ever known, including Marty. Barbara was an enigmatic soul who was slowly absorbing his soul into her own. He could feel it happening. He noticed he didn’t like being apart from her. He began dreaming and wondering what she really thought of him, not as a business partner but as a man.

  Barbara made her call to Bob on a Friday and was at his office, unbeknownst to David, on Saturday morning, working on affecting her transfer of licenses and allegiances. Meanwhile, David sat on his veranda that Saturday morning looking at his rose garden. He had Dolly in his bedroom that morning in her position box. He had the highest regard for Dolly. She never complained nor asked for any payment, and their business matters settled quickly.

  He smelled the sweet wafts of rose fragrance and reflected on his genius in pulling off a perfect murder, very pleased at the robust canes his bone-nourished rose plants produced.

  David won
dered how the authorities could have possibly gotten wind that his Columbian macho man was shacked up with Judith. He decided to cut her loose as soon as his litigation settled. He had all the lawyers and she had none. Still, her kids were just kids, and kids could talk. The more he thought about it, the luckier he felt that they had not been busted selling drugs. It was a stupid idea. Besides, if something happened to Judith or her kids, it could open up the possibility that he was linked to Marty’s disappearance.

  What was he thinking? For the first time in his life he doubted his own judgment. What made him so sure that her kids would actually want to be involved in his drug distribution business? Not all kids were like he’d been. He remembered how he hated his parents and how he rejoiced when he learned Marvin was dying.

  Judith showed signs of wavering loyalty. Barbara left him to work for Bob. He always suspected the Indian girl wanted his top salesman. Was he going to be fighting Barbara too? He had too much on his plate at one time. As much as he admired Hitler’s ruthlessness, when it came to battle tactics the man was an idiot. How smart was any man to get involved in multiple fights at the same time? David felt the world closing in on him.

  As he sat on his veranda, his thoughts turned to torturing Bob slowly through the legal processes and how that goal could be accomplished at no cost to himself. David naturally hated lawyers. He didn’t trust any of them, especially the ones who worked for him. He’d reasoned it all out years before—every lawyer, no matter which side he represented, was really only representing himself. Every law school student, he learned, took a class day where one of the professors, a part-time professor and a practicing lawyer, told the students that the legal profession was a business.

  The first duty of every lawyer businessman was to make sure they were paid and paid well, regardless of what happened to their client. The client was just a venue for payment and the case was just a piece of business to milk to the maximum. As a lawyer, they were not supposed to be thinking about ethics. They were supposed to think about money. The ethics stuff was just for the movies and television for the dummies in the public who believed what they saw on Perry Mason reruns.