“Installation go smoothly?” asked Ridge.
“Smooth enough. They sent two installers. An experienced guy in his fifties and a young assistant, early twenties. The assistant followed the older guy around like a shadow. Nice enough young guy. I felt sorry for him. I think he must have been in a car accident recently.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Eyepatch over his right eye. A bandage around his right hand. He moved slowly, almost like an old man. Strangest thing, though, was how Mister acted.”
“Strange how?”
“When the young guy walked in the door, Mister started yowling, like guttural wailing. His fur stood on end, his tail shot up, and he started turning in tight circles near my feet. The guy with the patch jumped behind the older guy. Begged me to put Mister away. Said he was allergic to cats and, as a result, they hated him.”
“That’s a new one,” Ridge said. “What’d you do?”
“Put Mister in the den. But he kept pushing and scratching at the door. Making these unearthly sounds. Demonic. Until they left. Then, he seemed OK. Go figure.”
“Probably, the guy with the patch hates cats and Mister, as only Mister can, sensed it. You know, it’s his way or the highway.”
“Still, it was weird,” she said. “He’s never acted that way before.”
“Well, hopefully they’ll send out a different guy if anything goes wrong with the system.”
When Ridge arrived at the office, things continued crazy, busy. He had to start the day with a 9 a.m. teleconference with a Court in Nebraska, and then took a call from Todd at the L.A. Times.
“Eric, you owe me. I spent yesterday afternoon and evening tracking things down. Got nowhere with the Goleta address. But could have a lead in the Santa Barbara area.”
“Fire away,” said Ridge.
“Well. Coming up zero with newspapers, databases, and internet searches, I turned to on-line court records. Since the Hulk told you to get off the case, I searched your name as attorney-of-record.”
“That’s why they pay ya the big bucks. But not to burst your bubble, we tried the same thing. Came up empty.”
“Figured that too,” said Todd. “So, I narrowed my search to new filings. Found you recently substituted in as attorney-of-record in Pao v. Constant Coverage Insurance Company in the Santa Ana courthouse.”
“Right, that’s the case I took for Terry’s Uncle Cho.”
“Well, I went on a quest with that. Took me hours, but I tried to link ‘Constant Coverage’ to the Santa Barbara area.”
“And?”
“Got a hit. Constant Coverage is a subsidiary of a company called ‘Friends Insurance, Inc.’ Part of an insurance conglomerate called ‘King Field Enterprises.’ Headquarters on the island nation of Nevis. Part of the Dutch West Indies in the Caribbean.”
“OK, and that led where?”
“Well it led me to learn everything I could about King Field Enterprises.”
“Don’t tell me…they have branch offices in Goleta, California?”
Todd laughed. “No, nothing’s that simple. But the character behind King Field Enterprises is an insurance mogul at the top of the food chain. Name is Richard Chesterfield. And guess where Richard lives? Right. Santa Barbara.”
“Tell me the address, and I’ll send you flowers.”
“It’s 100 Royal Hill. But make it chocolates. I’ve got a sweet tooth.”
As soon as he hung up, Ridge asked Kate to get Terry on the phone, and to send chocolates to Todd. Just then, another incoming call came through.
“Mr. Ridge,” the voice on the other end started, “I’m John Gryme of Words & Gryme, attorneys for Constant Coverage Insurance Company in the Pao case.”
“Good morning, Mr. Gryme. What can I do for you?”
“Please, call me John. As you know, with Judge Millsberg’s death, this case is waiting reassignment to a new judge. But we, here at Words & Gryme, have already fully evaluated this matter. Although we see absolutely no merit or chance of success for Pao, our principals are businessmen.”
“As executives of Constant Coverage, I assumed that would be the case.”
Mr. Gryme didn’t miss a beat. “As businessmen, Eric, my principals have decided to offer you and your client the money they’d spend anyway on the cost of defense.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be much, would it John? I mean since Words & Gryme has determined it’s a meritless case anyway, right?”
“That’s true, Eric. But you know as well as I do that even frivolous lawsuits cost money to defend. We here at Words & Gryme leave no stone unturned in defending our clients, and we estimate our cost-of-defense at $200,000. That’s our offer. Take it or leave it, Mr. Ridge. But I’m sure you realize it’s a great deal for you and your client.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. Gryme, for your invaluable insights and the offer. But my recommendation will be to reject it—although the final answer, as you know, will come from my client, Dr. Pao. I’ll get back to you next week with his decision but please, don’t get insulted if the answer’s X-rated.”
“Wait a minute then. Maybe we should talk—face to face?”
“About what?”
“Maybe we’ll see your side better, and vice-versa after a short get-together. Off the record.”
