***
Hans got in his car and watched the man walk to the corner and join a group of street people engaged in conversation. He glanced at the south end of the courthouse and then back at the men. He looked at his watch and waited. About ten minutes later Hans spotted Matt coming out of the courthouse. He sat up in his seat as Matt waited for the light. When it changed, Matt started to cross the street. The man in the military fatigues moved toward Matt. Matt altered his path to avoid running into him.
"Sir, I haven't eaten all day. Could you spare a dollar?"
Matt frowned and tried to ignore the man. Then the man grabbed Matt's arm and jerked him around.
"What the hell!" Matt said as he tried to pull away. Suddenly Matt was surrounded by street people.
"You can't spare a lousy dollar, you rich bitch!" one of them said.
"Get a damn job, leave me alone," Matt replied. He tried to push his way through the crowd but was repulsed.
"Okay, take my money. What the hell!" Matt said and then pulled out his wallet and threw his money at them. The money fell to the ground but no one picked it up. There was dead silence broken only by a click. Matt saw the big blade sparkle in the sunlight. He looked around for an avenue of escape but he was surrounded. The men started to close in on him. He spun around desperately searching for help. The man lunged at him and he felt the blade graze his stomach. Blood oozed from the wound, saturating the front of his shirt.
"You cut me, you bastard!" Matt shrieked. "Oh God! I’m bleeding." The man lunged for him again but Matt managed to pull one of his assailants in front of him to act as a shield. The poor bastard screamed as the knife sliced through his hand, nearly severing his thumb. In the ruckus Matt again tried to run but was tackled and wrestled to the ground. The street people held Matt down while the man with the knife moved in for the kill. Suddenly a tall, muscular black man came running out of the parking lot tossing the street people out of his way. The man with the knife looked up just in time to see the black man's fist coming down on him hard. He fell back onto the street dazed, then he got up quickly and ran off.
Hans slammed his fist on the dashboard, muttered some obscenities and then started the car. He backed up quickly, came to a stop, and shifted into drive. As he took off, his tires squealed and he left a trail of burnt rubber. Matt watched the car disappear down Commerce Street. The black man came over and helped Matt up.
"Thank you so much, Leon," Matt said. "You saved my life."
"Are you okay? You're bleeding."
Matt looked down at his blood-soaked shirt. He pulled up his shirt and examined the wound. "It's just a flesh wound. Nothing to worry about. Boy, am I glad you showed up. How did you know I was in trouble?"
"I just happened to look your way and I saw those guys crowding around you."
"Boy, I never heard of street people running in packs before."
"Those weren't street people. No way."
"That's what they looked like."
"I've never seen any of those guys before. I know all the street people around here."
"Hmm. I wonder who they were?"
"I don't know, but somebody's doesn't like your ass."
"I guess not."
"I can't believe you risked your life to save me. I'm so grateful."
"Hey, you're one of my best customers. I can't let anybody mess with you. Besides, you helped me out of that jam last Christmas. I'm glad I had an opportunity to pay you back."
"Well I'd like to say we're even but I think saving my life puts you way ahead."
"Don't worry about it. I may need you to file bankruptcy for me. My wife lost her job."
"Oh, no. . . . Well, call my office if you're serious. Tell them you have a free bankruptcy coming."
"Really?”
“Yeah, I think you’ve earned it.”
“Thanks. I’ll call your office. You better go get someone to look at that cut."
"I will. Thanks again."
Matt got in his car. He called Lynn on his mobile phone and asked her to meet him at home. He didn't explain why so she wouldn't be upset. The bleeding had stopped but Matt was feeling a bit weak and light-headed. When he pulled into his spot in front of the apartment, she ran out to see him.
"What's wrong?" she said and then saw his blood-soaked shirt. "Oh my God! What happened to you?"
"A pack of street people tried to kill me."
"What?" she said and then began to inspect the wound.
"Down in front of the courthouse. They came at me with knives. Thank God Leon saw them."
"Leon?"
"Yeah, Leon Cash, you remember. The parking lot attendant at the Federal Building."
"Right. You should go to the hospital."
"No, it's not that bad."
"I don't know. You've lost a lot of blood."
"It looks worse than it is."
"Hmm. . . . Come on inside so I can clean it."
"Okay," Matt said. They went inside the apartment and into the bathroom. Matt took off his shirt and Lynn began to clean the wound.
"How did he stop them?"
"You've never seen him, I guess."
"No, I don't think I have.”
"He's about 6' 5" and weighs 275."
"Hmm. You're lucky he bothered to help you. Not many people would get involved in a street fight."
"He and I are friends. I see him every day."
"Even so—"
"He's married and has three kids."
"Really?"
"Yeah, and last year he bought them all a bunch of nice presents. He spent every extra cent he had for them. He was so excited about it. He couldn't wait to see their faces when they opened all of them. Then two days before Christmas he was robbed and all the gifts were stolen."
"Oh my God, no. That's terrible."
"He was devastated so I gave him four hundred bucks to buy new presents."
"You did? That was sure nice. . . . I'm kind of surprised he accepted it though."
"I told him I had taken up a collection from the attorneys in the courthouse. It wasn't true, but I thought he would be more likely to take the money if told him that."
"Well, that turned out to be a good investment."
"I guess so."
Lynn put a bandage over the wound and then carefully taped it so it wouldn't fall off.
"Okay, all done."
"Thank you. I can't believe my luck lately."
"You should call the police and report this."
"What are they going to do?"
"Find the bastards and put them behind bars."
"I just hate to get any more publicity right now. . . . You know the press is just looking for some way to smear me."
"You were the victim here."
"I know, but somehow they'll twist it into something entirely different. Let’s just forget it happened."
"I don't know if that's wise."
"It's the best thing. I'm sure."
"Okay."
"What time is it?"
"Three o'clock."
"I've got to go back to the office."
"Why?"
"Tom booked an appointment for me at four."
"You're kidding. Why can’t someone else handle it? You should stay home and rest."
"He said it was a complicated case and he thought I had better handle it. I'm fine, really. I'll go do this one appointment and then come right home."
"I'll come with you. You shouldn't be driving."
"Okay, let’s go."
When they walked into the office, a middle-aged man was seated in the reception area. Matt went into his office to clear off his desk. Lynn went to her office to do paperwork while Matt was in a conference. When his desk was clean, he came out and greeted the new client.
"Hi, Mr. Green. I'm Matt Coleman."
The man stood up and said, "Hello, I'm Wallace Green."
"Come on in and we'll get started."
Mr. Green followed Matt into his office and sat down in a maro
on side chair in front of Matt's desk. He scanned the room noting the pictures of Lynn on Matt's credenza. Matt sat down and smiled.
"So, what can I do for you?'
"I'm interested in filing bankruptcy. I saw one of your ads on TV."
"Good. . . . Are you married?"
"No."
"Do you have your own business?"
"Yes, I'm a landscape contractor."
"Residential or commercial?"
"Residential primarily. I've been doing the irrigation and landscaping for Bruce Westerfield Homes out in Arlington."
"So what does the problem seem to be?"
"I lost my contract. Bruce merged with another builder and his landscape guy underbid me."
"Really? That's too bad. Do you have any other customers?"
"No, I'm out looking, but by the time I find another contract and then wait sixty to ninety days to start getting paid my credit will be ruined."
"What kind of debt do you have?"
"A home loan, credit cards, and a few medical bills."
"So, do you have any cash, stocks, bonds, or other investment assets?"
"No, just the cash in my checking account."
"How much is that?"
"About six hundred dollars."
"Well, cash is not exempt so be sure you don't have more than $1,000 on the day you file. Otherwise, the trustee might want it."
"What's a trustee?"
"He's a person the court appoints to oversee your bankruptcy. His job is to collect as much as possible for your creditors, so if you have a significant amount of cash he may want you to give it to him."
"I'll make sure I don't have more than $500 in my account on the day I file."
"You can't have cash in your personal possession either. All your property must be disclosed including cash on hand."
"How would they know whether I had any cash or not?"
"You're going to have to swear that your bankruptcy schedules are true and correct. You don't want to commit perjury and end up going to jail. There's no reason not to disclose everything. The exemption laws are very generous. Your home, cars, household furnishings, IRAs, pension plans, clothing, and jewelry are all exempt up to $30,000."
"Oh . . . okay."
"About how much credit card debt do you have?"
"A hundred thousand or so."
"What about trade debt?"
"Thirty thousand."
"Do you have any income at all right now?"
"No. Not yet."
"Then you'll probably have to file a chapter 7 since you have to have a regular income to file chapter 13."
"Whatever you recommend."
"Do you have any business assets?"
"Not to speak of. I just have my tools."
"We'll take a look at those. We may be able to claim them exempt as tools of the trade."
"Good, I don't want to lose them."
Matt continued to question Mr. Green about his assets and liabilities and then they did a budget. When they were completed with the bankruptcy schedules, Matt explained what would happen next.
"In about ten days you'll get a bankruptcy notice. It will have the date and time for your creditor's meeting. Be sure and put that on your calendar because you'll need to be there. Somebody from our office will also be there to go through it with you."
"Do I have to go before a judge?"
"No, just the trustee. It should only take ten or fifteen minutes. In the meantime, if any creditors call, don't talk to them. Just have them call us."
"Good. I'm sick of those bastards calling and harassing me."
"Well, once you file there's an automatic stay—a court order that goes into effect that prohibits them from calling you anymore. So you should get some immediate relief from the harassment."
"Great. I feel so much better already."
"All right then, thanks for coming in. If you have any questions, please feel free to call us."
Mr. Green and Matt stood up. They shook hands and then Matt saw him to the door. After he had left, Matt went directly to Lynn's office.
"I'm done, honey. Let’s get out of here."
Lynn looked up and smiled. "Okay, just give me a minute to finish this report. Start shutting down the computers and I'll be right there."
"Okay, hurry up. I'm really tired."
"I'll be just a minute."
Matt left and walked around shutting off all the computers and printers. Lynn walked in as he was shutting off the copier.
"Let’s go," she said.
Matt shut the lights as they left each room and then locked the front door. On the way home they stopped at the Black-Eyed Pea for dinner. They had the waitress bring them a couple of strawberry margaritas and then sat back and relaxed.
"What a day," Matt said.
"I know. You must be exhausted. I'll give you a nice massage when we get home."
"That would be nice."
"Tom gave me the month-end reports while you were with Mr. Green."
"Oh really, how did they look?"
"Unbelievable. Filings are up 30 percent since the Bar Association luncheon."
"Jesus, are we getting backlogged?"
"No, the staff is doing very well at keeping up. Tom's been letting them work overtime."
"That's expensive."
"I know, but we don't want to increase overhead until we're sure the volume increase is permanent."
"That makes sense. You and Tom are doing a great job managing the business."
"Thanks, but sometimes I wonder how it all gets done."
"Don't you wish we could go back to Alaska?"
"Oh God, do I. We had a wonderful time, didn't we?"
"The best," Matt said.
"I'll talk to Tom. Maybe we can get away for a few days next month."
"You think so?"
"Sure, remember we promised ourselves we'd enjoy our money."
"That's right. Don't ever let me forget that."
"I won't, trust me."
They laughed and Lynn picked up her drink and began sipping it. Matt stared into her eyes. She put the drink down and said, "What are you staring at?"
"You're so beautiful. . . . I love you."
"Don't get any ideas. You're not in any condition to be fooling around tonight. You're a wounded man."
"This little flesh wound isn't going to stop me."
"It's not? Hmm," She said as she flipped off her shoe and began caressing Matt's thigh with her foot.
"Don't do that unless you want me to make love to you right here."
"You wouldn't dare."
Matt slid out of the booth and slipped over to Lynn's side. He put his arm around her and began kissing her passionately. She broke away laughing, "Matt, not here! Are you crazy?"
Matt laughed. He was embarrassed as he looked around and saw half a dozen people watching them. He let Lynn go and sat up straight.
"Get on your own side!" Lynn said. "God, you're a maniac. I can't take you anywhere."
"It's your fault. You provoked me," Matt replied and then returned to the other side of the booth. A second later the waitress showed up with some bread and took their orders. After dinner they went home.
Matt took a shower and then Lynn gave him the massage she had promised. By the time she was done Matt was sound asleep. She sat and listened to him breathe for a while, then covered him up, got undressed, and put on a nightgown. She looked at the clock radio and saw it was 9:55. After taking one last look at her sleeping husband she went into the living room and turned on the TV. The ten o'clock news was just coming on.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Marsha Smith here with Donald Seidman with the Channel 4 News. Donald."
"Yes, Marsha. Financial stocks continued to take it on the chin today on Wall Street as bankruptcy filings in North Texas soar. Quarterly reports for many Texas banks came out today and earnings are down from a year ago. Some banks even reported losses for the quarter. An analyst with Merrill Lynch told Chan
nel 4 News today that the situation is likely to get worse unless Congress takes measures to stop the flood of bankruptcy filings in Texas started by Dallas attorney, Matt Coleman. . . . Back to you, Marsha.
Marsha continued, "Senate Banking Committee hearings on the subject are scheduled for next week, and on the witness list is Dallas’ own Matt Coleman and Professor Swensen from SMU. The fear on the Hill is that the bankruptcy crisis in Texas will spread to other parts of the country. Hopefully, Congress will develop a strategy to avoid that catastrophe.”
"Fires continued to rage out of control in Southern California's Angeles National Forest. The fires have already destroyed five homes and charred twenty thousand acres of precious watershed. Today fire fighters built a fire break between the southern perimeter of the fires and the Silver Creek Resort and Hotel. When the blaze reached the fire break helicopters dropped thousands of gallons of water on it and, fortunately, the Silver Creek Resort is still standing. Firefighters hope to have the fire contained sometime tomorrow. . . . Donald."
"Well Marsha, we have another story tonight involving attorney Matt Coleman. In Dallas today police found the body of a young prostitute drifting down the Trinity River. The coroner has identified the woman as Monica Sommers. Ms. Sommers, a known prostitute, was recently in the news for allegedly drugging Dallas attorney Matt Coleman, in an apparent blackmail scheme. Police have commenced a homicide investigation but have refused to speculate as to who might be a suspect in that killing."
"Oh my God!" Lynn said. She ran into the bedroom and turned on the light.
"Matt! Matt!"
Matt sat up, shaded the glare from his eyes and looked at Lynn curiously.
"Huh. . . . What's wrong?"
"Monica Sommers is dead."
"Who?"
"Monica Sommers."
"She's dead? What happened to her?"
"She was murdered and dumped in the Trinity River."
"Oh shit! . . . I wonder who did it."
"The same person who wants you out of business. Oh Matt! I'm so scared. What are we going to do?"
"Don't panic, honey. It may not be as bad as it looks."
"Matt! Those street people were probably hired to kill you! And now Monica has been murdered. Somebody wants you dead!"
"I know, I know. I guess we better call the police."
Matt went to the telephone and picked it up.
Lynn said, “Did you know you’ve got to testify before the Senate next week?”
“What?!”
“It was on the news. They’ve subpoenaed you for next week. You haven’t got served yet?”
Matt hung up the phone. “No. Shit. That’s all I need.”
Lynn gave Matt a sympathetic look. “You won’t be alone. They’ve subpoenaed Professor Swensen too.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
“It will be okay. This will give you an opportunity to tell your side of the story.”
Matt sighed. “Yeah, if I live that long.”
Plastic Gods, A Rich Coleman Novel Vol 2 Page 18
