Chapter 12 #2
Dan said that the arraignment was set for Monday, and exceptionally, the judge had refused to allow Alex to post bail until after the arraignment, so he would have to spend the weekend in jail.
Jason wondered if Mickie was shocked, furious, or sympathetic.
Mickie wasn’t long on empathy at the best of times.
She would be thinking of how Addison’s fall from grace and exposure would affect her.
His accounts had been frozen by the judge so Mickie would have to post bail herself, or someone else would.
No one could pay his employees, unless the judge allowed money to be released from Alex’s accounts to do so.
But his medical office was closed forever.
Dr. Alexander Addison IV no longer existed.
His patients who were so dependent on him would be in a panic.
Joe McCarthy asked Jason to write the preliminary article that day for the headline on Saturday.
Billie couldn’t stop herself, when Jason told her Addison had been arrested.
She sent Mickie a text from the car on the way to work.
It took her mind off Tom for a few minutes.
She just said, “I’m thinking of you, call if you need me.
Love, B.” The response from Mickie was swift.
“I don’t need you, and never did. Did your boyfriend do this?
If so, tell him to go fuck himself and you too.
M.” Billie knew from a lifetime of past history that Mickie was incapable of human kindness.
She could only fake it if she wanted something.
The rest of the time it was not in her skill set.
She was everything Billie had always thought she was, completely narcissistic, a liar, and cruel.
She wondered how Alex was showing up on Mickie’s radar, as friend or foe, someone to love and support, or whether he had been erased off her radar the moment his bank accounts disappeared.
Mickie had never said she loved him, nor had he said it to her. They weren’t capable of it.
Jason’s headline article about the rise and fall and arrest of Alexander Addison was an exquisite piece of journalism.
There was no speculation, no guesswork, no judgment or ventured opinion, just straight, pure reporting of the highest order.
The revelation that Alex was not a doctor, had never gone to Harvard or any med school and had no medical license, and the charges he was accused of, were the essence of the piece.
It was an astounding article and when Billie read it, she was sure Alex’s patients and most ardent supporters and investors in Bellissima would be in shock.
Roger Hodges had called his own lawyer for him and instructed him to post bail after the arraignment, to keep his wife happy, and Marilyn had gone to see Alex in jail in tears on Saturday afternoon.
She and Alex had sat across from each other with the glass between them, speaking through a phone, and they both cried.
She was surprised not to see Mickie there, and she wanted to know from Alex who had started this smear campaign against him, and he swore he didn’t know.
Roger’s lawyer had a different story when he called Roger to fill him in on the charges, explaining that five women had been disfigured by Alex’s treatments and the substances he had injected into them, both counterfeit Botox and liquid silicone, which was illegal and potentially lethal, and possibly other unsuitable substances which remained to be seen.
It was a sobering conversation, and it impressed Roger, along with the other charges, that Alex had been a fraud, a charming, brilliantly impressive one, who had pulled off an incredible scam.
He was a hairdresser who began as a high school dropout, had been posing as a Harvard-trained plastic surgeon for years, and had gotten away with it. His luck had finally run out.
At Marilyn’s insistence, Roger agreed to leave the bail in place, but he was sobered by the charges.
Addison was clearly a sociopath, not just a criminal.
Marilyn said that Alex assured her that none of it was true.
To keep peace in his already troubled household, Roger agreed to what his wife wanted, but his attorney told him that ultimately, Alex’s only choice was to plead guilty.
The evidence was too damning against him. And there was no doubt of his guilt.
Roger’s attorney made the appearance with Alex at the arraignment where Alex pleaded not guilty, and bail was set at three hundred thousand dollars, which Roger paid.
He knew that life with his wife would be unlivable unless he did.
It was a small price to pay for peace, given her other justified grievances against him, including the girl in Newport Beach.
Jason attended the arraignment as part of his story, and with some misgivings, Billie went with him, in part so she would be there for Mickie if she wanted her.
At first Mickie was nowhere to be seen in the courtroom, and then Billie spotted her, far from Alex and well behind him.
Marilyn Hodges was in the front row, looking encouragingly at Alex, stoic in a black suit, shirt, and tie, as he pleaded not guilty.
It was over very quickly once bail was set.
He was returned to the jail until Marilyn paid the bail bondsman, and she was at the exit from the jail when he was released.
She had also paid for a bungalow suite for him at the Beverly Hills Hotel.
She had gone above and beyond for him with her total faith in him.
And as he walked out of jail, looking badly shaken, he saw Mickie in the crowd behind Marilyn, waiting for him.
He thanked Marilyn profusely, hugged her, promised to repay her as soon as things were straightened out, as he was sure they would be, then he walked toward Mickie waiting for him in the distance, as Marilyn left.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could think of to say to Mickie when he stood in front of her. She didn’t hug him as Marilyn had, but she was there. He had had no idea if he would ever see her again. She hadn’t answered her cellphone when they let him call her.
“Now what?” was all she said to him.
“Where have you been?” he asked her.
“Where have I been?” she almost shrieked at him. “Not in jail.” She had read Jason’s article two days before, on Saturday. She didn’t know what to say to Alex. He was a fraud. She didn’t know what to believe now.
“Marilyn rented us a bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Can we go there and talk?” She nodded and he followed her outside to the car and driver she had hired to come to court.
She had paid for it with her personal bank account, which had a few thousand dollars of her own in it, and some money Alex had given her.
They seized everything that Alex owned and had frozen all his bank accounts.
Alex looked respectable in his black suit, and he had a paper bag with his belongings in it.
“Where did you stay last night?” he asked her again.
“Wendy let me stay at her place. We both cried all night. We didn’t understand what had happened until we read the paper on Saturday.”
“I thought you might have gone to your sister’s,” he said, very subdued as they got into the car.
“My sister and that creep she lives with are dead as far as I’m concerned. They started this. I’ll never see her again.”
“She didn’t start it,” Alex said quietly, as they rode to the hotel.
“This isn’t her fault. I knew it was coming and I didn’t want to face it.
I don’t know how I got it, but I think I injected some bad Botox into some women a few months ago.
It nearly killed them. They sent me registered letters and I ignored them.
Five of them want to bring criminal charges against me.
There may be more, and they’ll sue me civilly.
And we have a bigger problem.” He looked at her and she could see that he was frightened.
“We have to make a deal with the guys from Hong Kong. The Koreans are going to want their money back and we’ve spent a lot of it.
The boat, the plane, some other things. I was happy to get their money, but I don’t know how clean it is.
They’re kind of a rough group, and I think they may be in the drug trade.
I have to pay them back. We need the Hong Kong money to do that. ”
“And do what? You’re not a doctor anymore. What are they going to pay us for? You were a hairdresser, Alex, and you pretended to be a doctor. Are you insane?”
“Maybe I am, or I was. But it worked for a long time. My patients love me. Maybe I can still do their Botox shots or some of the tamer treatments they rely on.”
“Alex, if what the paper said is true, you’re going to prison, and I’m not going with you. I’m getting out of this mess.”
“Then why are you here now?”
“I don’t know,” she said as they reached the hotel.
“Maybe I’m addicted to you. The police left me a message.
They want to talk to me tomorrow. What am I supposed to say to them?
I knew you did things you shouldn’t have.
I lied too. I just didn’t know you’re not a doctor.
But they could charge me with fraud. I’m not going to prison for you.
” They had arrived at the hotel, checked in at the desk, and a bellboy showed them to their room.
It was an adorable bungalow, with all the lavish comforts of the Beverly Hills Hotel and their own pool.
The bungalow was costing Marilyn a fortune.