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Authors: James Lepore
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and managed by Bryce Powers & Company. He thought it possible that Herman Santaria did not even exist.
“How did they get your name, John?” Jay asked.
“They called to retain me, actually, to quash the
subpoena, if that became necessary. I know Reid McKenzie from American Bar Association business. I told him I represented Chemical Bank in the case, and so couldn’t handle a suit against you. I calmed him down, Jay. They need to know it won’t happen again, that’s all.”
“It won’t.”
A pause ensued. Jay, his reputation in mind, would like to have told Parker why he sent the subpoena out. Actually, he hadn’t been exactly sure why he had done it. Until now.
“Who’s Herman Santaria?” Parker asked.
“He’s a managing partner,” Jay replied, “in one of Bryce Powers’s properties in Texas, Lantana Gardens.”
It was not hard for Jay to guess what Parker was thinking. Chemical Bank would be applying for a huge executor’s commission when the Powers estate was ultimately settled, and would receive trustees fees many years into the future. Only two partnerships of a total of forty-four were involved in the current lawsuit. If any of the others were unhappy, if they had claims that had merit to them against Bryce Powers, the corpus of the estate could be substantially reduced, and Parker’s client’s cash flow with it.
“I’m sure you had your reasons, Jay,” Parker said. “But I assume I am authorized to tell McKenzie that the subpoena was a mistake, and that it won’t happen again. Am I right?”
“Yes, of course,” Jay replied.
“Good,” said Parker. “We’ve got enough on our hands, don’t you think?”
“I do,” said Jay.
Jay put the phone gently down onto its cradle, and slowly looked around his office. The legal files that needed attention in September were still lined up next to Kay Del Colliano’s plant. Others were piled on each of the client chairs facing his desk, and more on a table under the window to
his left. In front of him on his desk was the memo pad that Cheryl used to record his telephone messages, opened to the Thursday before. For a moment he could not remember the current day of the week, and then realized it was Friday. The top message on the pad was from an assistant county prosecutor asking him to call her back to discuss the possibility of a deal in a drug case he was handling. Cheryl had written “# 2” under it in parentheses. The next message was from a law clerk at the federal court in Newark telling him that the adjournment he had requested in a product liability case had been granted. Under this Cheryl had written “Notify client, expert, etc.?”
Earlier in the day, Danny’s mother had called to tell Jay that the police were allowing access to Dan’s office and apartment, and to ask him to go through both, and to do whatever had to be done to wind up Dan’s affairs. Jay had quickly agreed. It would give him something to do. Looking at the barely touched law artifacts lying around his office, the irony of this thought had not escaped him, but subtleties, like irony, had not been very important to Jay in the last two months. His work ethic had turned out to be a fraud, betraying him when he needed it most. Although, thinking about the strangely menacing quality of the call from John Parker, the dormant lawyer in him stirred. Herman Santaria had something to hide, and had the juice, or thought he did, to keep it hidden.
Before leaving the office, Jay went online and Googled Reid McKenzie, who, he quickly found, was a name partner in Smith, Dillon & McKenzie, a Houston firm of some 430 attorneys, with offices in Dallas, Austin, and Mexico City.
12.
6:30 PM, August 25, 1991, Mexico City
Herman would have preferred to break Isabel gently into her new life. After all, she would be in it a long time. But Rafael, when he saw her in Herman’s apartment the day she arrived from the convent, still wearing her school uniform—a pleated navy blue
“How did they get your name, John?” Jay asked.
“They called to retain me, actually, to quash the
subpoena, if that became necessary. I know Reid McKenzie from American Bar Association business. I told him I represented Chemical Bank in the case, and so couldn’t handle a suit against you. I calmed him down, Jay. They need to know it won’t happen again, that’s all.”
“It won’t.”
A pause ensued. Jay, his reputation in mind, would like to have told Parker why he sent the subpoena out. Actually, he hadn’t been exactly sure why he had done it. Until now.
“Who’s Herman Santaria?” Parker asked.
“He’s a managing partner,” Jay replied, “in one of Bryce Powers’s properties in Texas, Lantana Gardens.”
It was not hard for Jay to guess what Parker was thinking. Chemical Bank would be applying for a huge executor’s commission when the Powers estate was ultimately settled, and would receive trustees fees many years into the future. Only two partnerships of a total of forty-four were involved in the current lawsuit. If any of the others were unhappy, if they had claims that had merit to them against Bryce Powers, the corpus of the estate could be substantially reduced, and Parker’s client’s cash flow with it.
“I’m sure you had your reasons, Jay,” Parker said. “But I assume I am authorized to tell McKenzie that the subpoena was a mistake, and that it won’t happen again. Am I right?”
“Yes, of course,” Jay replied.
“Good,” said Parker. “We’ve got enough on our hands, don’t you think?”
“I do,” said Jay.
Jay put the phone gently down onto its cradle, and slowly looked around his office. The legal files that needed attention in September were still lined up next to Kay Del Colliano’s plant. Others were piled on each of the client chairs facing his desk, and more on a table under the window to
his left. In front of him on his desk was the memo pad that Cheryl used to record his telephone messages, opened to the Thursday before. For a moment he could not remember the current day of the week, and then realized it was Friday. The top message on the pad was from an assistant county prosecutor asking him to call her back to discuss the possibility of a deal in a drug case he was handling. Cheryl had written “# 2” under it in parentheses. The next message was from a law clerk at the federal court in Newark telling him that the adjournment he had requested in a product liability case had been granted. Under this Cheryl had written “Notify client, expert, etc.?”
Earlier in the day, Danny’s mother had called to tell Jay that the police were allowing access to Dan’s office and apartment, and to ask him to go through both, and to do whatever had to be done to wind up Dan’s affairs. Jay had quickly agreed. It would give him something to do. Looking at the barely touched law artifacts lying around his office, the irony of this thought had not escaped him, but subtleties, like irony, had not been very important to Jay in the last two months. His work ethic had turned out to be a fraud, betraying him when he needed it most. Although, thinking about the strangely menacing quality of the call from John Parker, the dormant lawyer in him stirred. Herman Santaria had something to hide, and had the juice, or thought he did, to keep it hidden.
Before leaving the office, Jay went online and Googled Reid McKenzie, who, he quickly found, was a name partner in Smith, Dillon & McKenzie, a Houston firm of some 430 attorneys, with offices in Dallas, Austin, and Mexico City.
12.
6:30 PM, August 25, 1991, Mexico City
Herman would have preferred to break Isabel gently into her new life. After all, she would be in it a long time. But Rafael, when he saw her in Herman’s apartment the day she arrived from the convent, still wearing her school uniform—a pleated navy blue
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