The airplane took off on time, and because of strong headwinds, stopped short of its normal refueling point, Witchita, and landed instead in Little Rock. He spent the night there and, at the crack of the next dawn, continued his journey west. After refueling at Albuquerque, the airplane arrived in L.A. after dark.
At Los Angeles Airport he took a taxi to Beverly Hills and rang his doorbell. No answer. He walked around to the side of the darkened house and peered into the garage through the little window in the door. His car was not there. He got back into the taxi and gave the driver the address of the Santa Monica apartment building.
When he arrived he saw his Buick convertible parked in the little parking lot. He let himself into the vacant apartment and found a pile of suitcases and cardboard boxes neatly stacked in the living room. There was plenty of room for the stuff, since there was no furniture in the apartment, not even a bed.
Sid got into his car and drove to a diner, had some supper, then returned to the apartment. He slept on the floor that night, under his overcoat.
The following morning he rose early and had breakfast at the diner. He visited a furniture store and ordered a bed and a comfortable chair, then stopped at his bank in Beverly Hills to cash a check for a hundred dollars. The woman in the teller’s cage went to a ledger and looked something up, then returned.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Brooks, but your account balance is seventy-six dollars and twenty cents. Would you like to cash a smaller check?”
Sid laughed. “There’s a mistake here; I have in excess of a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in that account.”
She handed him back his check. “Please go and speak with Mr. Merrill, at the first desk on the platform,” she said, pointing to a middle-aged man.
Sid approached the man. “Mr. Merrill? I’m Sidney Brooks; we’ve met before.”
“Of course, Mr. Brooks. Please have a seat.”
Sid took the chair next to the desk. “I’ve been out of town for a couple of weeks, and when I tried to cash a check just now, the teller told me my balance was less than a hundred dollars.”
“Well, that’s substantially less than your usual balance, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is. A month or so ago, I deposited a check for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and there was already around ten thousand in the account.”
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Brooks,” the man said. “Please wait a moment while I investigate.” He got up and was buzzed through a door to the area behind the tellers’ cages. Five minutes later, he returned. “Mr. Brooks, our records show that Mrs. Brooks recently transferred a hundred and sixty thousand dollars from your joint account to an account in her name at the Bank of America. I took the liberty of checking the balance of your savings account with us, and found that she has also transferred forty thousand dollars from that account, leaving a balance of less than ten dollars. Were you not aware of that?”
“I was not. Can you cancel the transfer?”
“I’m afraid not. You see, you and Mrs. Brooks are joint owners of your account here; she’s not just an added signature. She was legally entitled to made that transaction.”
“You mean she can just steal all that money from me?”
“Legally, it’s not stealing. I’m afraid your only recourse would be a civil action to recover some portion of the funds.”
Sid grappled with this for a moment. “Mr. Merrill, my wife has announced her intention to divorce me and has moved my things out of our house into an apartment building we both own. This... action of hers has left me without funds; may I borrow ten thousand dollars from the bank for thirty days?”
“I can certainly take a loan application, Mr. Brooks, but it would require collateral, and approval would have to go to the loan committee, which would take a week. Do you have any stocks and bonds?”
“I do, but those are in a joint account, too, if you see what I mean.”
“Ah, yes. I suppose... Mr. Brooks, I can approve a loan of a thousand dollars immediately, if that will help while you are sorting out these affairs.”
“Thank, you, Mr. Merrill, that would be very helpful.”
Sid signed the note, opened a new account, deposited the loan proceeds and left the bank in a white-hot rage.
25
Sid drove up to his house, hoping to speak to Alice, but there was no one there but the embarrassed maid, who said that Alice had gone to New York and she didn’t know when she’d be back. Sid left and drove over to Wilshire Boulevard to Hyman Greenbaum’s office building and went upstairs.
“Good morning, Mr. Brooks,” the receptionist said. “Is Mr. Greenbaum expecting you?”
“No,” Sid said, “but it’s important that I see him right now.”
She made the call. “Please go right in, Mr. Brooks.”
Hy was on his feet to greet him as he walked into the big corner office. “Sid, I’m glad you’re back,” he said, shaking his client’s hand warmly.
“Thanks, Hy, but I’m not sure I’m glad.”
“Yeah. I know things went badly in Washington. I always thought you fellows had bad legal advice.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Sid said, handing him the letter from Alice’s lawyers.
“Yeah,” Sid said, reading the letter, “these guys are a top firm, but they only occasionally handle divorce; Alice must have a connection there.”
“That’s not all,” Sid said. “I went to my bank this morning to cash a hundred-dollar check, and it bounced.”
Hy’s eyebrows went up. “Uh-oh.”
“I had deposited your check from Centurion, and I had at least another twenty thousand in that account. I haven’t even paid the taxes on the Centurion money.”
“She cleaned you out?”
“Yes, she certainly did.”
“Joint account?”
“All our accounts are joint.”
“That means she probably cleaned out the brokerage account, too.”
“Probably. I’m afraid to call them.”
“I’m sorry, Sid.”
“You warned me she might leave, and I ignored it. Is this legal, Hy?”
“I’m not a lawyer, but I don’t think she can do all that. Trouble is, you’ll have to go to court to get anything back.”
“I’m going to need a lawyer, a specialist.”
“Just a minute,” Hy said. “Let me make a call.” He dialed a number. “David? Hyman Greenbaum.” He explained the situation briefly, then listened. “Good. I’ll send him to you now. All right, half an hour.” He hung up. “Sid, I’m going to send you to a young lawyer I know who will know how to help you.”
“Young? Does he specialize in divorce?”
“He’s young, but he’s very smart, and he has all kinds of connections. He’s not a divorce lawyer per se. He’s more of a generalist, but when you meet him, I think you’ll feel comfortable. Believe me, if he can’t handle it, he’ll know exactly who can.”
“All right, Hy. I’ll go see him. Where is he?”
“He’s on the second floor of this building, and don’t be put off by his offices.”
“All right. Next thing is, I’ve got to make some money.”
“I understand,” Hy said, “but we’re in a new kind of ball game, Sid. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and we’re going to have to feel our way.”
“Do we have the rights to the novel yet?”
Hy opened a drawer. “I’ve got the contract right here. Sign it, and we’ll have the rights; they’ve already executed.”
Sid signed the agreement. “Oh, God, I’ve got to give them five thousand dollars. I borrowed a thousand from the bank, but I’ve already spent, maybe, three hundred.”
“Don’t worry about it; I’ll cut a check and send it with the executed contract by messenger. You can reimburse the agency when you get some things worked out.”