Sparring Partners(74)
“Of course not. Stu controls it and he keeps it hidden. Here’s the rub. That money belongs to this law firm, not to Bolton Malloy. He’s been disbarred, disgraced, sent to prison, and he’ll never practice again. It’s against all manner of ethics for this firm to split fees with a non-lawyer. That’s understood. What worries me is that he and Stu are hiding the money and evading taxes. What if the IRS comes in with guns blazing and wants to dig through the books? What if they find the hidden loot? Guess who gets indicted. Probably not Bolton, though I’d point the finger at him pretty damned quick. It’s more likely that they’ll come after the two of us.”
“Agreed. What are you saying?”
“I’m saying exactly what you and I have been thinking ever since the tobacco money hit the table. We are entitled to a chunk of it. We were partners in this firm when the tobacco litigation was settled and we should get a share.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. You got a number?”
Rusty stood and walked to a credenza where he riffled through a briefcase. He pulled out some papers and dropped them on the table in front of Kirk. “I ran some numbers last night, something I’m sure you do all the time. At the settlement, the court approved fees for Malloy & Malloy to the tune of twenty-one million. The old man wisely deferred his share and structured a deal to postpone it for ten years, hoping of course that our dear mother would pass in the meantime. We all know that story. So for ten years the money churned at a rate of about five percent a year. Five years ago, the annual payments of three million hit home, or hit somewhere in Stu’s world. At that moment, the pile was just over thirty-five million. Now, assuming the money is earning only five percent a year, and paying out at three million, then the payments will continue for another fourteen years. Bolton is almost seventy-two. What the hell is an eighty-year-old man going to do with that much cash?”
“I know all this, Rusty.”
“Sure you do. I’m just repeating myself so I can justify taking some of the money now.”
Kirk frowned and looked out the window. “What about Stu?”
“We make him rich. Give him a slice, enough to get a smile, enough to let the old fart quit and go home and water his roses. The conspiracy will take the four of us working together.”
“Diantha?”
“Of course.”
Kirk stood and paced to the door and back, rubbing his jaw with every step. “I had a long talk with her last night. The meeting with the old man was not a good idea. It brought back a lot of old issues that I thought they had resolved. Evidently not. To put it bluntly—she wants some of the money. She figures she’s entitled to it after all these years.”
“How convenient,” Rusty said.
“Whatever. She’s determined and she will not be denied.”
“Great. Let’s cut her in. How do we get Stu to cook the books for us for a change?”
“She thinks it’ll be easy. She thinks Stu might be getting cold feet with all the money he’s hiding and the taxes he’s evading. He even mentioned something about not going to prison on behalf of the old man’s schemes.”
Rusty smiled and said, “I love it. What’s her figure?”
“We’re equal, okay? All four of us. We take a million each to start with, keep it offshore where it’s hiding right now. Next year we take half a million each and leave one mil for the old man. Same for the following year. If it goes well, and there’s no reason it shouldn’t, we’ll split the fees until the payments stop, or until he gets out of prison. We can adjust the distributions any way we like. But we gotta stick together.”
“How do we snooker the old man?”
“Get Stu to dummy up the monthly financials. As long as Bolton’s in prison he won’t know the truth. When he gets out, he’ll certainly cause trouble, but we’ll have the money. What’s he gonna do, sue us for taking fees we’re entitled to?”
Rusty stopped smiling and said, “He’ll evict us from his building.”
“So what? If he does, we’ll go somewhere else, or maybe just shut it all down. That’s not a bad thought. Take a break from the law.”
“While we count our money.”
For the first time in years the Malloy boys enjoyed a moment together. The gorilla in the room had finally gone away. They had confronted Bolton and his monstrous fees, and they were not afraid. Driving home, Kirk was all smiles as he listened to Bach and dreamed of a far more pleasant life away from Chrissy and away from the law.
Rusty decided to hang around the hotel. He’d paid for the room, no sense hustling back home to an empty house. At five he entered the hotel lounge, got a drink at the bar and kept one eye on the door, ready to pounce on the first attractive prospect.
(26)
But Old Stu would have none of it.
He listened somewhat attentively as Diantha walked him through her tortured history with Bolton. She thought she was convincing but his homely old face became stone cold when she broached the subject of money. Damages. Compensation for sexual harassment. Since there was never spare cash lying around the firm, at least not above the table, Old Stu knew immediately that she had her eye on the treasure being accumulated offshore.
She plowed on and explained that the “boys” were getting restless and needed an “increase” in their compensation. He was nonplussed.