We tracked down the cab Murdock had picked up on Nob Hill. He’d gotten out at Union Square, and then his trail disappeared. We couldn’t find any trace of him. We figured he had a car parked there and a second identity already fixed up, probably with one of the sleazier insurance outfits.
By Monday it was obvious that Murdock hadn’t fired that shot in a moment of angry passion. Over the previous months he’d quietly sold all his business interests and closed his stock and bank accounts. He’d turned the last of his real estate into cash just the week before. All but one of his bank accounts were cleaned out. He’d even managed to skim some of the cash from his joint ventures with Ackerman just minutes before the banks closed on Saturday. Ackerman hadn’t suspected a thing.
One of his companies remained. The reason emerged when we asked the Insurance Association data bank for information on Gerald Murdock: he had no insurance cover whatsoever in his own name. One reason he wasn’t represented before the adjudicator.
His sole remaining company, GMR Holdings,was insured. With the Mafia Corporation of Washington, DC. They weren’t too cooperative. Never were: just the minimum level to ensure that other insurance agencies cooperated with them when they needed it. It was part of their heritage. At least according to their marketing, they were proud of their history as a private protection agency back when the government kept trying to put any competitor out of business.
As Mafia insured the
And on Monday Annabelle Pearson paid every remaining bill and proceeded to shut that company down too.
All the money was gone. Thousands of gold ounces.
Gerald Murdock’s legal identity had been tied to his company. His credit cards, bank accounts, agreements and everything else. Very clever. He could deal normally in our society and any trace would lead back to his company, not him.
It also meant there were no records of Murdock: no voiceprints, fingerprints or retina scans on file that we could access to help track him down.
We made a voiceprint from Ackerman’s holo of the party. We found fingerprints that were probably Murdock’s. We ran them through the data bank and—as I’d expected—drew a blank.
It was as if Gerald Murdock didn’t exist. No doubt exactly what he had in mind.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” said Wainwright. “We’re here today to adjudicate the accusation that Gerald Murdock murdered Randolph Ackerman. Is Mr. Murdock present?”
When there was no answer, Wainwright asked, “Since Mr. Murdock does not appear to be here, who stands to speak for him?”
Again, no answer.
Wainwright was a stickler for procedures. He already knew that Murdock wasn’t represented. But any missing step could give grounds for a rehearing or appeal. If Murdock ever surfaced to make a challenge.
“Who speaks for the estate of Randolph Ackerman?”
“I do, sir.”
Joe and I looked at each other and I could see he felt as startled as me. Martin Li, the attorney who’d answered, billed more per hour than Wainwright. As usual, I was surprised I hadn’t noticed him before. Strangely for a lawyer, he seemed to disappear in a crowd. Yet he was an extraordinarily handsome man. Eurasian most likely. But you just didn’t see him until he began to use his deep, penetrating voice. From that moment on, I always had difficulty pulling my eyes away from him.
So why did All-Risks want two of the highest-powered guys in the business on
This case had moved at lightning speed. Murder Saturday; evidence all assembled by Thursday morning; hearing today. No defendant to argue with helped. Still, fast in our business was normally two to three weeks between crime and hearing for an open and shut case. Ever since Sunday night, our office had looked more like a student dorm without maid service than a place of business. I don’t think any of us had had a good night’s sleep all week.
“Be it noted that Gerald Murdock has failed to appear to contest the charges against him,” Wainwright said. Turning to Li he asked, “Do you contend that this hearing has jurisdiction over the case?”
“Indeed it does, sir. Mind if I walk around? I think better.”
Wainwright waved his hand in a gesture of assent.
“It is conceivable that by his absence,” said Li as he paced slowly from one side of the room to the other, “from the fact that he is not represented here today the defendant, Gerald Murdock, could argue that this hearing does not have jurisdiction.
“If he did, he would be wrong.
“Randolph Ackerman was a client of All-Risk Insurance. His person and his property, including his apartment, were insured by All-Risk under a general all-risk policy. That policy included legal representation and mediation with other members of the Insurance Association and their clients. That policy was registered with the Association.
“When Gerald Murdock entered Ackerman’s apartment on Saturday night, he implicitly agreed to place himself under the rules of Ackerman’s policy with All-Risk.”
“Was there a notice to this effect?” asked Wainwright.
“Yes, sir,” answered Li. “On all entrances to Ackerman’s apartment.”
These signs are so common the only time I become aware of them is when they aren’t there. They usually read:
This property is insured by XYZ Insurance Co.
By entering this property you agree to be bound by the rules of the policy and the American Insurance Association.
“Has this been attested?” asked Wainwright.
“Yes, sir.” One of Li’s assistants passed a file to Wainwright, who quickly skimmed through it. Though I’d bet he’d read it all before.
“As Gerald Murdock is neither represented here today, nor has he any known contract with any member of the American Insurance Association, or any of the other insurance associations in North America, he is uninsured. And was uninsured at the time Randolph Ackerman died.” Li’s assistant passed another folder to Wainwright. “In that file,” Li continued, “are the results of our search for any insurance cover of Gerald Murdock.
“Being uninsured, any of his actions while upon the property of Randolph Ackerman are to be adjudicated by the rules of Ackerman’s policy with All-Risk Insurance. He implicitly agreed to that upon entry.”
Two more files were pushed across the table to Wainwright. They’d be copies of Ackerman’s policy and All-Risk’s rules.
“In that case,” said Wainwright, “I hereby rule that this hearing has the legal jurisdiction to adjudicate the accusation that Gerald Murdock murdered Randolph Ackerman.”
Every adjudication session began with these formalities. Now they were over, Wainwright turned with obvious relief to Li and asked, “Is there anything you’d like to add to your brief?”
Knowing Wainwright, he’d already mastered every nuance of the evidence the All-Risk team had prepared— including any errors or omissions. Today’s hearing was, other than the decision itself, the final part of the adjudication process.
“No sir,” answered Li.
“Then, please proceed with your summary.”
“The facts are clear,” said Li. “At 11:07 last Saturday evening, Gerald Murdock shot Randolph Ackerman. The time was established from Ackerman’s holo. He died instantly, according to the doctor who examined the body. Murdock left the apartment, hailed a cab, got off at Union Square, and hasn’t been seen since.
“These facts were established from interviews with two of the three witnesses, Sophia Ackerman, the
