The Fallen (Amos Decker #4)(106)

“That’s right. Young man, old man, don’t matter. One wrong pill, you’re dead.”

“How much life insurance can somebody buy?” asked Decker.

“Depends on the individual and what the underwriter will approve. If you want a policy for a ton of money that is out of whack for your personal situation, then that’s going to be a problem. Also depends on what you do for a living. If your job is working in a daycare that’s one thing. If you’re a police officer or a fireman that’ll be a factor. An underwriter may not write that policy, or the premiums would be higher. Or the policy might even exclude from coverage your dying from something related to your profession. So if you’re a cop and get shot in the line of duty, it won’t pay out.”

“My sister is thirty-three and in excellent health, and she’s a homemaker with a young daughter.” She glanced at the overflowing ashtray. “And she doesn’t smoke.”

“Okay, I can’t commit to anything based on that, of course, but how much insurance is she looking at?”

“A million, maybe more? I mean, how much is normal?”

“One person’s normal is another person’s abnormal,” said Norris, chuckling. “But there are basic parameters. Now, there are different types of life insurance. You have whole life and universal. They’re more like savings plans that actually build up cash value and that you can borrow against and such. Now, universal life insurance policies have some more flexibility than a whole life policy, but I think what you’re talking about is good old-fashioned term life insurance. It only pays out upon death. They come with fixed premiums for a certain period of time. Ten, twenty, or thirty years is typical. Now, you got a young kid who’ll need support for many years, you’ll want a higher policy amount. Or if the insured is a high earner, then you’ll want more to continue to support a certain lifestyle in the event they die, that sort of thing. Key man policies are often issued to cover the life of important executives, and the beneficiary is the business. But that’s obviously not your sister’s situation.”

“What would the premiums run for someone like my sister?”

“Don’t hold me to it, but for someone her age and healthy, generally speaking, for a twenty-year policy for a million bucks, you’re looking at four hundred bucks a year in premium payments. For a thirty-year term, a little over six hundred bucks a year. That’s strictly actuarial tables talking. Odds are she’ll live another fifty years or so. Of course, after, for example, the thirty-year term is up, she can keep paying the next layer of premiums. But then your sister would be close to her mid-sixties, and the premiums would be a lot higher, so she might just let the policy lapse. That way, the insurance company has collected twenty or thirty years’ worth of premiums from the insured and not paid out a dime.”

“Nice business, if you can get it,” noted Jamison.

“Selling insurance is a for-profit business, after all,” Norris said, with a laugh tacked on.

Jamison glanced at Decker and then said to Norris, “Thanks, I’ll give these materials to my sister and she can follow up with you.”

“Sounds good.”

Norris rose.

However, Decker remained sitting and said, “We were referred to you by Linda Drews.”

Norris slowly sat back down. “Oh, right.” He shook his head sadly. “That was tough. Her son dying like that. Broke my heart.”

“Yeah. She said he had hurt his back at work and was on painkillers.”

“Right.”

“That didn’t affect his ability to get life insurance?” asked Decker.

Norris eyed him keenly. “I’d love to keep jawing, but the fact is I’ve got an appointment to get to.” He stood. “Jenny can show you out.”

As they left the office and headed to their truck Jamison said, “You really spooked him.”

Decker nodded. “I think he knows we’re FBI.”

“Is this some sort of insurance scam?” she asked.

“Could be.”

“The premiums he quoted are pretty low. I doubt most people would need help to pay them.”

“Maybe not,” he said.

“You’re obviously thinking about something,” she said, staring at him.

“I’m remembering something Fred Ross told me.”

“What’s that?”

“That nothing in Baronville is really illegal.”





Chapter 61



DECKER SAT UP in bed and listened to the rain pouring down outside.

Does it ever stop raining here?

He looked over at the small table under the window. He’d laid his clothes there. And on top of them was his badge.

He rose, walked over, and picked it up.

It wasn’t an FBI special agent badge, because he wasn’t one. But it was a federal badge and it did have the authority of the FBI behind it. And Decker had arresting authority as a member of an FBI task force.

Decker had carried a badge for over twenty years now. He’d had it the night he’d discovered that he no longer had a family.

He’d had it with him when Alex Jamison and then Melvin Mars came into his life.

He carried it now in Baronville, PA.

It had provided him comfort when he’d needed it. It had provided him a means to the only ends he had ever cared about.