Municipal Blondes
7
Bailed out and over my head
I’VE BEEN SITTING at the courthouse for an hour and they just started the hearing on Brenda’s bail and release. Because it’s federal, she didn’t get the fast release she threatened last Tuesday. I feel so bad for her having to sit in an actual jail for a week! Boohoo.
Catch and release
I said ‘Hi’ to Jordan when I came in, but mostly these court cases are a lot of sitting in the back of a big room in which almost all the action takes place at the front in very quiet voices that no one in the audience can hear. There’s no jury. It isn’t a trial or even a hearing. This is where the two—or if I’m counting correctly, six—lawyers argue with each other over whether it is safe to trust her on her own recognizance and how much bail is adequate to assure she won’t jump bail.
I could give them a tip—she’s going to run. Jordan already suspects that. All they can do is argue about making it as costly as possible for her to leave and then watch to see if they can catch her. A condition imposed was that her passport be surrendered. After another hour of haggling up in front, the judge pounded the gavel and announced bail had been set and paid, and Brenda was released on her own recognizance. There was a stern lecture to the prosecution regarding having an airtight case on the software counterfeiting charge in two weeks or he would dismiss it.
Jordan finally separated himself from the prosecution team and came back to sit beside me. The judge called a recess for lunch with the next case to be heard at two o’clock. Before long we were the only ones still sitting in the back of the courtroom.
“Well, the game’s afoot, as Sherlock would say,” Jordan said. “She’s being followed and I’m heading out to be near Madison Park when she gets there. We don’t want her in the house for long before we move in with the search warrant.”
“She’s going to run, Jordan,” I answered.
“She’s going to try,” he smiled. “This is a federal case and her passport has been collected. She would be stopped at any border.”
“Any wagers on that?”
“No. But, despite what our judge said, we’ve got an airtight case against Barnett, Keane, and Lamb and she is the major shareholder. Bradley Keane’s wife holds a twenty-five percent share now that he’s gone. I’m sorry her retirement fund is looking a little weak at the moment. She seems like a nice woman. With Simon out of the picture, Brenda holds the remaining seventy-five percent.” Jordan paused. “I shouldn’t do this, but do you want to ride along for the search? You’d have to wait in the car until we’re done but I wouldn’t mind the company.”
Was he making a pass? What an exciting date to ask me out on if he was. Either way, I wasn’t in the mood for it at the moment. I just wasn’t able to socialize with business interests right now.
“Sorry, I’ve got an appointment back at the office with Lars,” I said. “Why don’t you call me next time you’re doing a drug bust? I’d really like to ride along for that.”
“You know I don’t do drug busts,” Jordan answered. Apparently, my sarcasm was too subtle. Jordan’s a nice guy but you know what? Sometimes he’s a little dense.
“You know what you could do sometime?” I asked. “Stop by with the file on this case, especially Brenda’s profile and arrest record. I’d just like to scan through it once for clues on where the real money was going and where it was coming from.”
“That’s probably just a little out of bounds,” Jordan said. “But I never turn down help from D.H. Investigations.” I bit back a response that D.H. Investigations was out of business now that D.H. was dead. Jordan didn’t deserve that and it’s really just my bitterness showing through. I want Dag’s last month on earth to have meant something. I was afraid the whole thing was going to blow over and the person he fingered as the culprit was getting away.
I left the courtroom and headed back to the office.
Last will and testament
Everything started popping about the same time this afternoon. Jordan called and told me they recovered the backup disks from Brenda’s home office. She was furious. It was a pleasure to watch her rant about planted evidence but she couldn’t deny those were backup disks for Simon’s computer. They were all neatly labeled and were in the desk.
Unfortunately, the warrant had limited scope. They could search for backup disks to the computer and once they found them, they really couldn’t search the house for anything else. He thought Brenda’s housekeeping was amazing. I kept my mouth shut.
The funeral home called to ask if it was okay for Reverent Olson to lead a memorial service on Wednesday. Why were they asking me? He must have given my name to them. Could I stand another memorial service? I hoped Dag wouldn’t mind the Lutheran minister praying for him.
And then Lars showed up. He hemmed and hawed a bit and insisted we go into Dag’s office to chat. He looked around the room and made a few notes. As executor of the estate, he had to place a value on Dag’s possessions. He’d already ben to Dag’s apartment and knew about the Mustang. He pulled Dag’s little laptop out of his briefcase and set on the desk. He returned to the sofa and faced me.
“His affairs were very tidy,” he said. “He left the list of his accounts and policies attached to his will. He wasn’t wildly wealthy, but he lived simply and frugally. There won’t be much tax on the inheritance.”
I started to mention the vault but Lars cut me off before I could say anything more.
“There’s no mention of a vault in the will. I believe he wanted his ashes scattered.” I started again but he cut me off again. “There is no mention of a vault,” he said with finality. “Now, we should really read the will.” I was totally confused.
“I thought wills were read by the attorney,” I ventured.
“Yes. In fact, it was. I’m the executor of the estate, so I’m the only one who was there for the reading. From that point it is up to me to contact the heirs, report the value of the estate, and distribute it according to Dag’s wishes.”
“Why do you want to read the will to me?” I asked. Maybe I’m dumber than the blonde wig I wear would indicate. I really had no idea.
“Because two weeks ago, Dag visited his attorney and changed his will. The change made you his sole heir, Deb.”
I sat staring at Lars like an idiot. I’d heard those words before. Five years ago, an attorney told me I was the sole heir to my parents’ meager estate. There hadn’t been all that much. The house was mortgaged. Dad had a retirement plan but Mom had drunk most of the liquid assets. The car was wrecked. Because it was a good market, I made enough on the sale of the house to finish paying for college and get into grad school. That was it.
I remember thinking when I got that check, this was all that was left of my parents. Their entire lives had amounted to a check for $50,000 and a collection of rare whiskey bottles.
And me.
I couldn’t bear to see Dag’s life reduced to a few numbers on an accountant’s ledger. Why was he doing this to me?
“Deb,” Lars was saying softly. “Listen to me. I didn’t send you to Dag to get involved with him or to become his heir. I sent you to him because he was the best graduate I had and you are the best student. This inheritance isn’t about money. It’s about carrying on. It’s about becoming all that you are capable of being. It’s not about making you into a memorial to Dag Hamar, either. It’s Dag’s way of saying how very proud he was of you and how much you meant to him.”
“But I can’t even run the business,” I wailed. “I don’t have a license.”
“He thought of that. He called me while he was changing the will and asked me to hold the agency license until your three years is up and you can apply for it yourself. Since I’m fully licensed, I can act as your supervisor, just as I did for the first two years. In May, you’ll be able to take the exam and the State will license you independently. The business license is not the same as the Agency license. As a business, you can continue to do computer forensics in this office as long as you want with no PI license at all. As soon as I file the papers, the business license and all its assets belong to you. And I’m going to file the papers as quickly and as simply as I can. As far as I’m concerned, you are now the owner and operator of D.H. Investigations.”
Lars left the office a little after six. He left me staring out at the Sound in the darkness and the fog that was gathering over the waterfront.
Suddenly, I understand why Dag spent so many hours staring out this window.
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