“Maggie Johans,” said the other. I’d never seen her face before, but from the name alone I immediately recognized her as the lawyer Duncan had called in New York to help me-the partner who served as Quality’s general counsel.
“Please, have a seat.” She was evidently taking the lead, which didn’t bode well.
“Thank you.” I glanced at Duncan and Sid Templeton as I settled into my chair, trying to get a sense of any sign of support from the Miami contingent. Sid glanced out the window. Duncan lowered his eyes.
Maggie said, “This committee has been assembled to determine the proper response of our law firm to the dispute that has arisen between Quality Insurance Company and the Rey family. In making that determination, we wanted to afford you an opportunity to express your views.”
“Are you sure you want to hear my views?”
“Why wouldn’t we?” she asked.
“Because my family has been accused of fraud.”
“That’s true.”
“My view is that the accusation is baseless. Quality Insurance Company has acted in bad faith, and I hope that somebody makes them pay for the added stress they’ve put on my mother and for every additional minute my father spends in captivity because of their refusal to pay the ransom.”
She and the other New Yorker exchanged glances. Duncan shot me a look, as if warning me to tone it down a notch.
The skinny ethics chairman asked, “Is it your intention to sue a client of this law firm?”
I measured my response, mindful of Duncan’s nonverbal admonition. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Sid Templeton, the Miami managing partner, jumped in. “Before everybody gets their back up, can we simply talk a few things out?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Whenever there’s a disagreement, I find it helpful to stand in the shoes of the other person. If you’ll bear with me, Nick, you may gain some insights as to where the insurance company is coming from.”
“I’m all for that.”
Sid cleared his throat, then began, “Your father was a fisherman for almost thirty years, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“He never had kidnap-and-ransom insurance.”
“No.”
“Finally he buys a three-million-dollar policy and-bam! — not much later he’s kidnapped. That’s a red flag for an insurance company, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I suppose it might be.”
Sid shrugged, as if giving me an opportunity to explain away the suspicion. Before I could say a word, Maggie took over the line of questioning. “Why did your father purchase three million dollars’ worth of coverage?”
“Maybe that was the most he could afford.”
“Let me ask the more pertinent question. Why do you think the kidnappers demanded exactly three million dollars in ransom?”
“The dollar amount of the ransom is part of an ongoing confidential negotiation. Unless the insurer intends to pay it, I prefer not to share that information.”
“You already told Duncan it was three million dollars.”
I looked at Duncan with surprise. Obviously nothing we’d talked about on Monday had been kept confidential, or “friend to friend” as he had promised. “I don’t know why the kidnappers demanded three million. You’ll have to ask them.”
“Or your father,” she said.
“What are you implying?”
“It hardly seems coincidental that the ransom demand is in the exact amount of coverage.”
“First of all, that doesn’t mean my father defrauded anybody. Second, the insurance company didn’t even know that the ransom demand matched the policy limit until after it denied the claim as fraudulent.”
“Young man,” said Mr. Ethics, “what prompted your father to purchase kidnap-and-ransom insurance after going without it for thirty years?”
“Circumstances change. Kidnapping for ransom is more prevalent these days. And I would imagine that my mother’s pregnancy had something to do with it. He started to think like a future father again.”
“So he jumped on his boat and headed for Colombia. That doesn’t sound like the responsible future father.”
“In hindsight, I’m sure he wishes he hadn’t gone.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes, leaning closer. “Of all the companies out there, what made him choose Quality Insurance Company?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it your recommendation?”
“No,” I said, surprised by the question.
“Did you tell your father that Quality might look more favorably on his claim, given your association with this law firm?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Did you tell your father that you would use the partners in this law firm to pressure the insurance company into paying the claim?”
“That’s absurd.”
“Then why did you ask Duncan Fitz to call me and use my influence with Quality?”
“Duncan offered to call you, I didn’t ask. Tell her, Duncan.”
He answered in a hollow voice, “As I recall, Nick, you came to me.”
“Yes, and you offered to help.”
Sid intervened. “It should be made clear that no one is suggesting that Duncan knowingly participated in any kind of scheme to defraud.”
“There was no scheme by anyone,” I said. “The only thing motivating me or Duncan was the fact that my father was kidnapped and needed help. Period.”
No one seemed convinced, least of all the New Yorkers.
“Is that what this is about?” I said. “You think I told my father to buy a kidnap-and-ransom policy from Quality Insurance so that I could scam them?”
There was no answer, but I could see where this was headed-me and my father, co-conspirators. The warning from Duncan’s secretary was ringing in my ear: Be careful what you say in there. I’ve seen the memos.
“This is a sham. You don’t care what my views are. You’ve already made your decision.”
Maggie said, “I assure you, we came here with an open mind. We had sincerely hoped to hear something from you that would allow a course of action other than the one we must now recommend to the management committee.”
“Exactly what is your recommendation?”
“Suspension without pay until the dispute is resolved.”
“Why?”
Mr. Ethics scoffed. “Your failure to see the reason only underscores the urgency of our recommendation.”
“How do you expect me to get the help my father needs with no income?”
“It’s my understanding that the FBI works for free,” Maggie said dryly. “At least for families who aren’t defrauding insurance companies.”
I could have argued with her, but I saw no upside in explaining that the point of contention between my family and the FBI was not alleged insurance fraud but suspected drug smuggling out of Nicaragua.
I rose and looked each one of them in the eye, allowing my glare to linger a little longer on Duncan. “This is far from over,” I said, shaking hands with no one as I left the room.
30
“Suspended.” That was the word that stuck in my mind when I woke Saturday morning, once the initial anger had passed. I reminded myself that my ego was secondary, that the real fight was for my father. But it was hard not to take a betrayal like this personally, especially from Duncan Fitz, a guy who’d given me nothing but glowing reviews from the day I’d started working for him.
I wondered what the party line would be on my suspension. The firm couldn’t announce that I’d been suspended for pressing a fraudulent claim on a kidnap-and-ransom policy. Quailty prohibited anyone-including its own lawyers-from disclosing the existence of kidnap-and-ransom insurance. Of necessity, the explanation for my departure would be vague, which would only invite salacious speculation on Miami’s legal grapevine. Soon the poor guy whose father had been kidnapped in Colombia would be known only as the idiot associate over at Cool Cash who’d been suspended for sleeping with the managing partner’s sixteen-year-old daughter and kicking a blind cocker spaniel.