Chapter Nine
The Lurker being a mostly unknown factor, I left Bear and Fitz to watch over Tripp.
The Valkyrie was world-class protection, and from inside the castle, with all the magical defenses watching over it, she should be able to hold off a medium-sized horde of villains if it came to that.
The potions Fitz had brewed up should take Tripp off the supernatural radar, making it more difficult, if not impossible, to magically direct Lurker-infested creatures at him.
Of course, my address was pretty public, it being a castle and all. But if we decided to move Tripp places, we would want to be able to do it with subtlety. Bunkering down was hardly ever a good long-term solution. And I didn’t like Tripp enough to want him to move in.
I showed up to Max’s office to find him already speaking with a slightly overweight young man in his early thirties wearing designer casual clothes that cost more than some people’s cars.
He had blond hair and a face that an unkind observer would call petulant, and Max introduced him as Norman Hathaway, Esquire, so I was the only non-lawyer present—except for Peppermint, who had one shoulder shaved bare and covered in one of those clear plastic bandages and was wearing a plastic cone around his head.
The basset was asleep in his box and snoring, the sound somewhat amplified by the protective cone.
We all sat down in chairs like civilized people.
“So,” Hathaway said without preamble. “You’re the people siding with the con man who swindled a mentally diminished woman out of her fortune.”
“Nice pants,” I said pleasantly. “What kind of plastic is that?”
Max gave me a reproving look. “Dresden, please.”
I waved a hand and said, “Objection sustained.” I moderated my tone. “Mr. Hathaway, no one here is interested in helping a con man. Mr. Gregory has had a past, but he’s trying to turn over a new leaf. His charitable organization is legitimately trying to do some good for the city.”
“Which makes it all right to exploit my mother in her failing days?” he asked. “I hardly think so.”
“What makes you think he has exploited her?” Max asked.
“His record as a pimp and a drug dealer, mainly,” Hathaway replied. “Did not you, yourself, defend an educational organization from a predatory lawsuit from this same man only six months ago?”
Max spread his hands. “The point of this meeting,” he said, “is to avoid a costly and possibly lengthy proceeding in court if we can find some middle ground.”
Hathaway sneered. “I see little reason to seek such ground. I’ll be able to produce a number of her doctors who will testify as to the amount of pain my mother was in during her final days, and how much medication she required as a result.
The fact that in the last few days of her life she donated the bulk of her estate to this criminal will speak for itself. ”
“It might,” Max allowed, “but it might not.” He cleared his throat gently. “My inquiries to the hospice she was in showed that she received no other visitors than Mr. Gregory during that time, sir.”
Hathaway’s face darkened. “Meaning what, precisely?”
“Meaning that you have no firsthand knowledge of her mental state during that time,” Max said.
“Even if you were qualified to assess such a thing. I have spoken to several of the nursing staff who cared for Mrs. Hathaway in her final days, and have found several willing to testify as to her foundational mental competence, even if she was in pain.”
“How much did that cost you?” Hathaway asked nastily. “For nurses? Not much, I suppose.”
Max’s pate turned a little redder, but his expression didn’t change.
His eye twitched a couple of times, and since I’m a professional observer of people, I could sense a sudden and tightly controlled anger.
He folded his hands and gave Hathaway a professional smile.
“The point,” he said, “is that the outcome may not be nearly so cut-and-dried as you might like to believe. I’ve been doing this kind of work for fifty years, sir. I know what I’m talking about.”
I didn’t know if Max knew what he was talking about or if he was bluffing, but it took some of the wind out of Hathaway’s sails. The pudgy man scowled at Max. “I wonder if Ms. Abernathy and the IRS will agree with your assessment.”
Max’s expression was serene. “I have negotiated with Ms. Abernathy on a number of occasions. I have found her to be entirely reasonable.”
“I’ll have the money back,” Hathaway said, his face darkening.
“Every penny. If your pimp returns it before the TRO hearing date, I will dismiss the request and that will be the end of it. Otherwise, I will pursue absolutely every avenue available to me to see to it that charges are pressed, civil and criminal, and make sure that your man spends whatever is left of his youth in a jail cell.” He leaned forward.
“I have friends in the State’s Attorney office as well as at the IRS.
I can cause your client—and yourselves—a great deal more trouble than the pimp is worth. ”
I arched an eyebrow and glanced at Max for his reaction.
The old man seemed to actually relax. His smile became genuine.
“I want to thank you, Mr. Hathaway,” he said genially. “You remind me why I got into the law in the first place. Because it is such a pleasure to defeat greedy, corrupt pigs of men such as yourself.”
“Excuse me?” Hathaway said, going tense.
“A man who doesn’t visit his own mother in her final days and then feigns outrage about her donating her estate to a good cause so that he can acquire the money for himself instead, despite his obvious financial security, seems an excellent sort of person to beat the stuffing out of in open court,” Max said pleasantly.
“Do you know who I am?” Hathaway seethed, rising.
“I do,” Max said calmly. “I do my homework. Perhaps you should have done the same. Good day, sir.”
Hathaway slammed his hands on Max’s desk, leaning over it. “You pathetic old man. Do you think you can dismiss me like some kind of schoolboy?”
I rose lazily.
I was bigger than Hathaway. I made sure he knew it.
“Maybe you ought to back off of Max, Norman,” I suggested. “You look a little aggressive. There could be a misunderstanding.”
Hathaway glanced at me and really looked at me for the first time. I’ve been through a lot. Some of the scars show. I do not look like a pleasant person. I have resting wizard face, which is to say I often look like I have had it up to here with everyone’s nonsense.
“This isn’t over,” he said quietly, to Max and to me. He maybe didn’t sound as confident as he thought he did. “You do not know the trouble you’ve walked into.”
I couldn’t help it. I tittered a bit.
“Norman,” I said. “You don’t know the kind of trouble I’m used to.” I stepped forward a little, crowding the limits of his personal space, and said, very quietly, “Good day, sir.”
Hathaway swallowed. Then he left. He slammed the door behind him.
Peppermint’s long ears stirred in the plastic cone. The basset hound opened bleary eyes and looked at the door, then at me, then Max, then huffed out a sigh and went back to sleep.
Max waited until Hathaway’s car started and drove away, and then he blew out a breath.
“Well,” he said. “That could have gone better.”
“How much trouble are we in?” I asked.
Max shrugged. “The benefit of living an honest life is that no one can drag any surprise skeletons out of a closet to torment you with,” he said.
“Hathaway makes his way on deals and settlements, not on going to trial. However, the man does have a certain number of connections in City Hall. He can make a considerable annoyance of himself if he chooses to exert his political capital in our direction.”
“Can you beat him?” I asked.
Max shrugged. “Temporary restraining orders aren’t usually too hard to get, by their nature.
It will depend largely on how convincing his evidence is versus our own.
Mr. Gregory’s record will not help our cause, and we have not had a great deal of time to prepare.
” Max shook his head. “I am an excellent attorney. Hathaway isn’t. I give us perhaps one chance in three.”
“You sure didn’t sound like that when you spoke to him,” I said.
“No,” Max said. He cleared his throat apologetically.
“I’m afraid my judgment is at times subsumed by my passions.
Accusing me of bribery was …” His hands closed into fists and then relaxed again.
“I believe I may take steps to make him answer for that. I do not care for bullies. What kind of luck have you had on your end of things?”
“Practically speaking,” I said, “Estevez’s organization has to pay off the bet or no one will lay any more with them and that part of their business is done. But everyone knows you can’t get that much cash moving around easily. And if something happens to Tripp in that grey area between, well.”
“I understand,” Max said. “I assume they are capable of doing Mr. Gregory harm?”
“In more ways than usual,” I confirmed.
“I see. Then you must protect his physical safety while I find some way to provide some kind of safe landing ground for him, legally.” He shook his head.
“Ms. Abernathy’s recommendation will carry a great deal of weight with the State’s Attorney office when they decide whether or not to prosecute Tripp for his actions.
I believe it will be necessary to meet with Ms. Abernathy.
Mr. Gregory will need to be present—and he will need to make a good impression. ”
“Hell’s bells, Max,” I said. “I’m a wizard. The impossible is just Tuesday for me. But that might be asking for what is beyond reason.”
He smiled briefly. “It is not too late to abandon Mr. Gregory to his fate. Are you sure he truly seeks to be reformed?”
I frowned and thought about it for a moment. Max waited patiently, a look of approval on his face.
“I’m sure,” I said slowly, “that he deserves the chance. And I’m sure that I don’t care for bullies either.”
“So be it,” Max said. “I assume he will be in danger if he is moved from wherever you have him placed.”
“He will,” I said.
“Then what would you suggest?”
“You set up the meeting,” I said. “I’ll figure out how to get him there.”