It would be my pleasure. Though I couldn’t hope to emulate your limpid prose.
Limpid? she snorted, closing the door and lighting a cigarette. Have we been attending the book club meetings again?
No, no. It’s just a word that always comes to mind in your presence.
I’m not sure how to take that, she said, flopping theatrically into her high-backed leather executive chair, putting her stockinged feet up on her desk.
Don’t. You don’t have to take it. Anymore.
I won’t. I’m not going to take it anymore, damn it!
We paused. We smiled. We were very pleased with ourselves.
Where were you earlier? I asked.
Lunching with some ladies, what else? What’s it to you?
I needed you.
Why should today be any different from any other day?
Yes, but this time I really needed you. Lucky my shrink had a cancellation, or you might be calling an ambulance for me right now.
Why for?
I told her the story of my small triumph in court that morning. My subsequent deflation at the hands of Warwick.
Warwick again, she said.
Warwick again, I agreed.
Ricky, Ricky, Ricky. You’ve got to get over this thing you have with him. You’ve let him inside your head. You don’t have to do that. He’s obnoxious enough from the outside.
Easy for you to say. You didn’t grow up in the business with the prick. And get professionally eclipsed by him.
That’s just what I’m saying. Who gives a shit? What price has he had to pay for that?
Not one I’d be willing to pay.
Precisely. You made your choices. They were the right ones. Live your life.
Damn. If you’d been here earlier today I could have saved myself two hundred bucks.
You’ll get my invoice in the mail.
I’ve got a little T amp; E problem for you, darling, I said, throwing caution to the winds.
I’m back on the team?
You never left it.
God, you know how to make a girl feel good.
If only. Anyway, say I’ve got a trust deed. It leaves x gazillion dollars to my father, another gazillion to me. But I don’t get it until I reach twenty-five. And there are conditions that have to be fulfilled before I get the money. So, I turn twenty-five, but one of the conditions hasn’t been fulfilled. Who gets the money?
Are you pretending I don’t know what you’re talking about?
Yes.
Well, it’s pretty lame.
I know. But given the circumstances, I don’t have much choice.
Those nasty conflicts issues.
You got it.
So. To answer your question. It depends on a lot of things, my dear boy.
I knew you were going to say that.
Of course I’m going to say that. If life were simple, we wouldn’t need lawyers, would we?
Good point. So, what does it depend on?
First, whether the condition can be fulfilled later, and whether the gift is worded in such a way as to allow later fulfillment.
Let’s say it’s irrevocable.
An irrevocable trust?
No, no. The condition. The fact that the condition isn’t fulfilled. Say it says you can’t collect if you’ve been convicted of a felony. And you have.
That again.
This is purely hypothetical.
Right. Well, I suppose there could be cases where that wasn’t an irrevocable event. It gets overturned on appeal. You get a pardon. It depends on the wording, though. It always comes back to that. Did you get the language?
No, I didn’t. I’m working on that, I lied.
The fact was, I couldn’t remember. And anyway I hadn’t turned the page. Could have been all sorts of other clauses I hadn’t seen.
Let’s keep it simple, I said. Let’s assume the conviction stands. I want to know who gets the money.
This is as simple as it gets, Ricky: it depends. I’ve got to see the language.
I don’t have the language. Right now.
Then it’s very hard to answer the question. Because there can be express provisions for that. If there aren’t, then the law is complicated. Heavily fact-dependent. Most of the time, though, it would go to the nearest relative. Whoever would inherit the donor’s estate upon death, if the gift hadn’t vested yet.
FitzGibbon.
Oops.
I didn’t say that.
Right. Anyway, could be. But let’s get the language. Can’t you just call up your buddy Kennedy?
I’m sure he won’t give it to me, I said. It’s a client confidence. Kennedy’s a real stickler for that kind of stuff. He won’t bend any rules. I mean, frankly, if I were Kennedy I wouldn’t give it to me either.
Then we’ve got a problem.
I know.
Ricky, you’ve got a client here. And he’s not about to lose a lousy couple million. The kid could go to jail. And soon.
Good point.
So what are you going to do about it?
I don’t know. I was hoping you’d have an idea or two.
My God, Ricky, do I have to do everything for you?
Well, not everything. But most things.
Jesus, she said, lighting another long thin cigarette.
She took a good haul. Blew a river of smoke to the ceiling. Looked me in the eye.
Okay, she said, let’s get down to it. Hit the pavement. Examine the paper trail. We need more data points.
Data points? You’re kidding me, right?
It’s just shorthand, Ricky. The point is, the more you know, the more you know.
Can’t argue with that. Okay, data points. Such as?
The usual stuff. Credit card records. Bank accounts. Telephone records. Did the deceased have a cell phone?
Who the hell doesn’t?
Phone records are always interesting. We should get everybody’s.
God’s in the details.
And the more details you have, the closer you get to seeing the face of the Almighty.
Yeah. Data points. The Almighty. I’ll see what I can do.
Redemption awaits.
So much better than rehabilitation.
