Chapter Eleven #2
“The wheels of justice grind slow but never inexpensively,” Ms. Abernathy concurred.
“Add to that the cost of what doesn’t happen,” Max said.
She arched an eyebrow.
“Put simply, a great deal of money that could help many young people recover from the aftereffects of the terrorist attack does not get used for that purpose,” Max said seriously.
“Heloise and I have looked into the data exposed thus far. The situation is quite serious, with long-lasting effects for tens of thousands of future taxpayers—whose taxable income is likely to be far, far less.”
Abernathy narrowed her eyes. “I’m beginning to see the direction of your reasoning.”
“I know the language the IRS speaks,” Max said modestly.
“Max,” I said gently. “If I may?”
My lawyer looked at me for a second before giving me a cautious nod.
“Ma’am,” I said, nodding to Ms. Abernathy. “My client is a ding-dong.”
“Hey!” Tripp said.
“Shut up, Tripp,” Max and I said at exactly the same time.
“But I believe he’s genuinely trying to do some good here,” I said. “I’m not saying he hasn’t screwed up. I’m saying he’s new at trying to behave like a productive citizen, and he needs a little help to get going.”
“We are the IRS,” Abernathy reminded me. “Not Santa’s Little Helpers.”
“Which is why I am arguing dollar amounts rather than legal or ethical points,” Max said, taking the reins of the conversation again.
He opened his briefcase and drew out a few bound pages.
“This is Heloise’s conservative estimation of the difference in income for the city, state, and federal governments in this area over the next thirty years, should Mr. Gregory’s charity have a modest beneficial effect on the education and therefore the incomes of the affected children. ”
Abernathy took the report and scanned the pages. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “These are Heloise’s numbers?”
“Indeed,” Max said.
“How is she, by the way?”
“Rather annoyed with me for taking cases again, and quite well,” Max said.
“I’m sure you are capable of recognizing the effects it will have over the long term if Kid Power is more successful than her pessimistic projections.
I’m sure that the SA’s office will take your recommendation very seriously when it comes to pursuing an actual prosecution. I’m here to ask for your help.”
Abernathy’s mouth curled at one corner. “Of course, all of this hinges on you convincing me that your client’s intentions are genuine and that this isn’t a scheme to at the very least hobnob with Chicago’s wealthy and influential while soothing their guilty consciences for profit.”
“I was rather hoping,” Max said mildly, “that my own presence here might help convince you of that.” He leaned forward.
“Connie, we both know that the law does its best to create a safer and better society and, because of its nature, often falls short. Perhaps in this town more than others. I believe this is one of those situations. I’m asking for your patience and understanding in helping us do the children of this city some good. ”
“This would hardly be the first time villainy cloaked itself in the guise of doing good for children,” Abernathy replied. Her gaze went to Tripp. “Mr. Gregory,” she said firmly. “Given your history and actions, why should I believe that your intentions are good?”
Tripp swallowed and looked at me.
“Tell it to her straight,” I said.
Tripp took a deep breath. “Lady,” he said, finally, without any of his sales-pitch voice, “I got a gun put to my head a few months ago. I told God if He let me live, I’d turn things around.
And the cartridge misfired. Odds were maybe one in ten thousand, and I ain’t ever been that lucky in my life.
Now I gotta make good. Or God’s gonna get me another bullet, and I don’t want that. ”
Abernathy blinked slowly.
“That,” she said finally, “did not make much of a case at all.”
Tripp gulped.
She picked up a pen and tapped it against her lips. “It did, however, sound sincere.” She exhaled and gave Max a wry look. “I see why Heloise is upset with you. I thought you’d finished tilting at windmills.”
“So had she,” Max said.
She tapped the pen against her mouth some more and then said, “Let us suppose you recover the funds from Mr. Gregory’s betting. They will need to be taxed as income and the entirety of the remainder given back to the charity.”
“Naturally,” Max said.
Tripp sat up straight and blinked.
“Additionally,” Abernathy said, “I will need assurances that no such behavior will recur in the future, and that future spending of the charity will adhere strictly to the letter of the law. I will want you and Heloise personally involved in Kid Power to ensure it happens, and on a pro bono basis as well.”
“I’ll have to speak to Heloise, of course,” Max said. “But I feel that should not be an issue.”
“Then under those circumstances, I might be less inclined to recommend prosecution.” Abernathy nodded and looked at Tripp.
“Sir,” she said, “I hope you appreciate the kind of personal capital Mr. Valerious is expending on your behalf. It is something that cannot be stolen, swindled, or bought. It must be earned.”
“Wait,” Tripp said. “You’re gonna help? Me?”
“I’m going to help an associate I respect and the future interests of the governments of the city of Chicago, Cook County, the State of Illinois, and the United States,” she corrected him firmly.
“You are going to help the children of Chicago, sir. Or so help me, I will see to it that you are made miserable for the rest of your days.”
Then she turned her eyes to me. “Of course, all of this depends on being able to recover a great deal of money from some very, very bad people who don’t want to give it to you,” she said.
“Whether or not the judge grants the restraining order or the SA’s office begins a prosecution, none of this works without the money.
” She smiled, and I was viscerally reminded of a shark.
“Which is where I assume you come into the picture.”
I shrugged modestly.
“I’ve asked around about you, Dresden. Your reputation is, shall we say, quite murky.”
“Nature of my job,” I said.
“It is,” she confirmed. “As a private detective, you maintained a lengthy relationship with CPD. You are also living in a home that was, until it was sold to you for one dollar, the property of a company run by John Marcone.” She tilted her head, considering me.
“You can’t seem to decide if you are a cop or a robber.
Mr. Valerious is a longstanding associate, a person I respect, and, if I may be so bold, a friend.
It is a combination I find quite rare in this town.
By standing with you, he is vouching for you, but I find Max to be a softhearted idealist. Should I suspect that you are abusing his good nature, be assured that the consequences I can bring to a man who is suddenly able to afford the expenses of running a household the size of your own after years of barely scraping by will be extremely unpleasant. ”
I don’t react well to threats. I have and will lip off to semideities and demons and monsters alike.
But this was the IRS.
A man’s gotta know his limits.
“How do I make sure that doesn’t happen?” I asked frankly.
The shark smile widened. “Prove Max’s faith valid. Recover the money. Keep none of it for yourself. Help the children.”
“No pressure, huh?” I asked.
“We are the IRS,” Candace Abernathy said. “Pressure is what we do.”