Cone of Uncertainty Part II
“Don’t the hospitals have the money and legal muscle to fight your lawsuit?”
“Sure, like a huge Marlin, their gonna’ fight and squirm to get free of the ‘hook’.
“I know their lawyer but Sassy Cassy will slay him.
“Let me do the lawyering, Stuey.”
“I’ll drive out there now and do my customary surveillance so I’m prepared for anything tomorrow.
“If I have to scale fences, camp out, or fight off dogs, you’ll pay the ‘Premium Service’ fee, right?”
“It’s a big fat gooey jelly donut.
“Show up at six pm, sharp. It will still be light out.
“As you enter the compound, walk around the side of the mansion. You’ll see an enclosed patio with the screen door ajar. Walk inside and enter the sliding glass door which will be unlocked. That’s the master bedroom where you’ll find the lawyer to serve.”
I drove out and found a gated mansion with a formidable gardener finishing work for the day. I presumed he lived on the premises because I saw no work truck. There was a pit bull following him about. It didn’t look so “gooey”.
On the day of service, I arrived about five forty-five to allow myself time to get inside the property. I did a drive by and the gardener was working in the yard with the dog. The gate was closed. I parked just out of sight but close enough to make a quick getaway.
For this service, I dawned a brown package delivery uniform and had a tablet I purchased off a retired driver from the same company. I placed the paperwork in the brown delivery package. A can of police officer-strength pepper spray and a retractable baton were discretely attached to my belt. I approached the gate and waived to get the attention of the gardener pushing a loud lawnmower. He wore a machete hanging from his belt.
“Package delivery, Sir.”
I didn’t get his attention but the pit bull took notice and charged the fence snarling which got the attention of the gardener who turned off the lawnmower and motioning me to place the parcel through the locked gate.
“This package requires a signature, Sir.”
He motioned for me to hand him the tablet through the gate to sign. I refused,
“Special papers from his law firm.
“I need his personal signature or the sender will be furious!”
He opened the gate door as the dog snarled viciously,
“Go to front door and ring bell.”
“Leash the dog, man!”
“He no harm you, dude.
“Sientete Asesina.”
He told the dog named “Assassin” to sit and it fortunately complied.
I hastily made it to the front door, waited for the gardener to push the lawnmower out of sight, and scurried around the side of the mansion where Cassy’s Jaguar was parked to my surprise. Cassy may have teed up a big, gooey jelly donut service of process for me. I made it to the covered patio seeing a host of kid’s toys including a grandiose pool. I always detested service of process with kids around.
The screen door was ajar and I approached the sliding glass door also unlocked as Cassy explained. I entered. It was dark inside the master bedroom revealed only by the pulsating strobe light. The entire scene disorientated me. I heard a familiar voice and the lights came on.
I thought I’d seen the encyclopedia of sexual deviation as a sailor visiting foreign ports but this scene was a freaky, kinky, den of inequity loaded with bondage gear. This was a graduate level seminar in sexual depravity.
Cassy was dressed in her full outfit including armor, Kilt, boots, and holding her sword Victory in one hand, and a leash attached to a collar around an old man wearing a tiger suit. His face and fingers with smeared with something resembling cat food from a bowl. The expansive master bedroom was strewn with floggers and sex toys.
“Look at him, Stuey.
“The most influential attorney in San Diego collared and leashed like my cat!
“Serve him!”
“You’re hereby served with court documents filed against four of your clients, Sir.”
“Take that old bastard!
“You want to be humiliated, now you got it!
“Service of process duly witnessed by your secret tiger tamer.
“You’ve screwed me like your whore for years, now I screw you back, big shot corporate lawyer!
“Photo him, Stuey!”
“Sorry, Sir.
“I’m just doin’ my job as told by the attorney.
“Say,‘cheese’.”
I beat a hasty retreat off that estate before the poor bastard could alert his gardener and dog. As I drove down the winding road off the hilltop revealing the pristine Pacific Ocean below, I knew Cassy would use the compromising photo of the attorney in a blackmail scheme, extorting him to negotiate a big settlement from his hospital clients.
She was ruthless and had big “balls” for a “slip and fall” lady lawyer. Cassy wanted to play with the “big boys” and would have to play by their “rules” which was win at any cost, or lose and take your enemies down with you. I couldn’t get the nagging thought out of my mind, however, that I made a powerful enemy with this gig.
I couldn’t put a quarter in a gumball machine and get a prize at the casino. I was blowing all of my money playing Blackjack and was tapped out. The GM of the casino let me park my truck and camper at the back of the parking lot and live rent free.
He gave me privileges at the gym to shower, shave, and use the bathroom. I served as an unpaid night watchman of the parking lot.
I was addicted to Blackjack and realized the only way to get the “monkey” off my back was to leave town or die broke. I preferred to head south of the border where my small Navy pension would have greater purchasing power.
I overslept and my cellphone remained off all night and into the late morning when I heard a frantic pounding and shaking of my camper. I looked out the window to find Cassy and opened the door.
“Get inside!
“I can’t afford to have a woman outside my camper making a scene.”
“It smells inside this tin can.
“With all the process serving and repo’s you’re doin’, I’d think you have the self-respect to get an apartment.”
“It reminds me of my bunk on board ship in the Navy.
“I’ll let Jonny sleep off a ‘Bender’ inside from time to time.”
“Save me the sordid imagery, Stuey.”
“You’re smelling desperation and the dead skin cells floating about my cabin from an old snake shedding his skin, Cassy.”
“I’m crawling out of my skin, too.
“That ‘rat’ Potentate cut a better deal with the old man and is going to screw me out of the class action suit.
“They’re demanding a meeting with me at noon on his boat at the marina and want you there as well.
“Hurry and get dressed. I’ll drive.”
“Jonny lives on his boat at the marina.
“I’ll ask him to remain nearby and keep his eyes and ears open. He can bring me back here.”
It was a long silent drive from the casino on the Rez to the marina. I could hear the “wheels” turning inside Cassy’s mind just as I heard them spin when she sat playing cards next to me. The question remained; what type of “hand” would fate deal Cassy?
“Welcome aboard my boat, ‘Settlement Fee’.
“May I pour you a champagne cocktail, Cassy?”
“I wouldn’t accept a winning lottery ticket from you, Potentate.
“Let’s get down to business!”
“Potentate agreed to dump you and come ‘onboard’ with me because I’m offering him fifty percent of a forty percent contingency fee my firm will earn when we sue the Social Service Agency on behalf of the four hospitals for inadequate funding for the care of indigent patients.
“Forty percent of a settlement worth tens of millions of dollars is considerably more money than a split with you of twenty-five percent if the judge is generous.”
“That’s dirty pool.
“The hospitals will be paid a handsome settlement and few if any of those dollars will make it onto the streets to help the homeless.”
“Since when did you grow a conscious, you vindictive vixen?”
“It’s the right play, and only play, Cassy.
“The homeless problem is too big for us to fix. Maybe the PR regarding the settlement will embarrass the government to take meaningful action to solve the problem.
“You can feel good about that, and feel good about the ‘bone’ we’ll throw you for staying out of the way.”
“The only bone thrown will be upside the old man’s head when I release the compromising photo of him Stuey photographed.
“He has grandchildren and a wife in a long-term care facility dying from Alzheimer’s, not to mention legions of lawyers within his firm and political associates who’ll run for cover!”
“I’ve had the pleasure of your company these many years, and yes, I enjoyed playing out my sexual peccadilloes with you, but I’ve always found you to be a terribly naïve girl.
“As we speak, my ‘legion’ of lawyers is readying the lawsuit on behalf of my clients against the SSA. It will be electronically filed with the court by day’s end. Once filed, no judge will permit your class action to move forward pending resolution of my lawsuit which in fact, renders your ‘case in chief’, moot, darling.
“As far as you destroying my stellar reputation, I’ll simply be another wealthy old man setting off into the sunset driving his Bentley.
“They’ll say the old man developed Dementia and give me a grand retirement party. My law firm will continue to prosecute my cases, chiefly, my lawsuit against you and your process server.”
“Wait a minute, Sir.
“Why are you dragging me into this mess?
“I was hired to serve you with process.
“It happens every day, sir. You know that.”
“Neither of you have the financial or legal resources to mount a defense against my law firm bringing charges of ‘Conspiracy to Commit Criminal Trespass’, ‘Trespass’, ‘Unlawful Entry’, ‘Defamation’, and ‘’Libel’ against you two swindlers.
“The District Attorney is a member of my country club who will look disapprovingly of your deceiving my groundskeeper with your appropriated parcel delivery uniform and tablet.
“He’ll likely elevate the trespassing charges to a felony which carries with it up to three years and a ten thousand dollar fine.”
“Cassy, get me out of this mess!”
“Cassy can’t help you. She has her own worries.
“My firm will prosecute her civilly for defamation and libel when she publishes or speaks about our ‘playtime’ together.
“I’ll seek general, specific, and punitive damages. It will take years to make its way through the court. I may even be dead by the time the case is heard.
“I’ll imprison and bankrupt you both!”
“You’re a sad old man.
“Bring your lawsuit.
“I won’t spend a dime defending it. I’ll simply not respond and you’ll get a ‘Default Judgement’ when I don’t file my ‘Answer’ to your complaint.
“When you get a judgement against me, I’ll file bankruptcy and you’ll never see a dime.
“I’m a tough chick, you old bastard, and I’ll start all over again in ‘Rectum’, California, if I’m forced to.”
“Don’t be so certain of your ability to practice law in California, darling.
“My complaint filed with the California Bar will charge you with ethics code violations, misrepresentation, and ‘Moral Turpitude’.
“Extorting a fellow member of the Bar in a defamatory manner will have you disbarred, and, the unscrupulous herding up and bribing potential plaintiffs as class representatives, alone, is grounds for disbarment.
“The disbarment will follow you like an ‘STD’ and no state will license you to practice law.
“I was a former member of the Committee of Bar Examiners and maintain many friendships with current members.
“How do you think they’ll come down on your case for disbarment?”
“You’ve been dealt a losing hand, Cassy.
“It’s time to ‘fold’.”
“Potentate is correct, darling.
“I’ll invite you out to the bash we’ll throw when we settle against the SSA. I’ll give you the ‘bone’ on board Potentate’s fishing boat while we fish for Marlin off the coast of Baja, Mexico.
“One last detail.
“Cassie will sign my non-disclosure agreement relating to my perverse playtime with her. It will have ‘tiger’s teeth’ my dear so, if you violate it, I’ll send you back to that rock you crawled out from under inside the white trash zoo you escaped from.
“As for your ‘swabbie’ process server, he’ll sign my NDA and if violated, my Washington political connections will foul up the payment of his Navy pension for years!”
“Send me your NDA’s before you drop dead from old age, you prick!”
Cassy was fuming and I could feel the heat rising off her as I escorted her back to the Jaguar. I knew it was just a matter of time before she devised a rotten revenge and I recalled the saying,
“Hell, hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
“I’ll screw that old bastard and Potentate to death.
“You screw Cassy, I screw you back, harder!”
Jonny drove me back to the casino. I was wiped out by facing my destiny resembling the devil directly in the eyes. His stare back was pitch-dark and bleak like a shark. I couldn’t work today and would drown my worry in booze and losing hands.
“I was hiding on a friend’s boat berthed next to the meeting, Stuey.
“I heard everything.
“The old man has Cassy on a leash.”
“I have a story for your production company, ‘Content Pipeline’, Jonny.
“It’s about an attorney and sports fisherman who invite another lawyer aboard for a celebratory fishing trip off Baja.
“They meet with unexpected consequences.
“Who do you know in Baja?”
“Heidi felt bad about the arrest at the border and promised me a favor.
“She’s ‘dialed into’ some Cartel cat’s who’ll descend upon a fishing boat filled with ‘wealthy Americans’ with ‘suitcases of cash’ or a ‘rival drug dealer’.
“We’ll let ‘nature take its course’ as far as the fate of the old man and Potentate.”
“Heidi is ‘dialed into’ dangerous dudes, Jonny.”
“She’s kinky for bad boys.
“I’ve known plenty of Heidi’s.”
“We can’t afford any ‘blowback’ on this scheme, Jonny.”
“The only ‘blowback’ will be the hurricane season winds off Baja which will flush a crime scene down the toilet leaving no evidence.
“It’s worth the risk because Cassy took out an insurance policy on the old man for a million dollars knowing one day he’d die.
“She hoped it would happen during his playtime with her so she could humiliate or blackmail his family.”
“What type of game are you playin’ with Cassy?”
“I’m letting her play ‘tiger tamer’.
“The chick enjoys playin’ her superhero character.
“I enjoy wearing that tiger suit with the collar and leash.”
“What’s your ‘angle’, Jonny?”
“I’ve learned she’s the sole beneficiary of the insurance policy.
“She showed me the policy.
“She had the opportunity to name a ‘Substitute Beneficiary’ and I convinced her to name me.”
“Why would she agree to that?”
“She’s all alone in the world, Stuey.
“She has nobody. It’s sad.
“She told me,
‘I climbed out of the gutter without a lending hand and made myself into a superhero. When I leave this world, I leave without anybody or anything so why worry about an estate plan?’”
“You have a copy of the insurance policy stashed away, Jonny?”
“You bet. Sign, sealed, and notarized.”
“You have a way with women.
“First Zondra, now Cassy.”
“Zondra named me in her trust to receive the Sunshyne Shak upon her death.”
“You’re a real ‘hustler’, Jonny.”
“I just give ‘em what they want but these babes with big balls believe they’ll live forever.”
“Women are the stronger gender, Jonny.
“Survival is ‘baked into’ their DNA.”
“I’ve got a ‘survival mentality’ in my DNA, too.
“Here’s the caper, Stuey.
“We can arrange for Cassy to arrive late to Potentate’s boat when it reaches Baja.
“I’ll take her down in my boat and she can watch the evil events unfold with binoculars. Her revenge will include a beating, theft, destruction of the boat, and reaping the proceeds from the insurance policy payout if the old man croaks for any reason.”
“Will she go along with it, Jonny?”
“Hell, yes.
“She’s bloodthirsty for revenge. She’ll agree to pay me a fee from the life insurance proceeds if it pays out which I’ll split with you.”
“Why share the insurance proceeds with me, Jonny?
“You set up the ‘Pidgeon’ and plucked the ‘bird’.
“It’s rightfully all yours.”
“We’re a team Stuey.
“Always have been, always will be.
“Just like your favorite ‘pigs in a blanket’.”
“Better call our team ‘penicillin and gonorrhea’.
“What should we do with the split from Cassy if the policy pays out, Jonny?”
“I always hoped to go into business with you, Stuey.
“Head south of the border and run a sportfishing tour boat, bar, whorehouse, anything.”
“We’re salty ‘ol shipmates sailing the seas of slime, Jonny.
“It’s time to change our compass point to somewhere south of the border named “Margaritaville”.
…You raise up your head and you ask, "Is this where it is?"…
…And you say, "Oh my God, am I here all alone?"…
…But something is happening and you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?...
“We’re on the final chapter of this dog-eared beaten-up pornographic paperback.
“Pour you another?”
“Pour a double and turn the page, Stuey.”
“It’s your caper, Jonny.
“Tell him the story.”
“Better wear a life vest, friend!”
The hurricane season off Baja is May through November giving us seven months for them to settle the case and head down to Baja and celebrate. I wanted to make certain my boat was operating within “The Cone of Uncertainty” representing the probable track of the center of a hurricane.
They settled the case during prime-time hurricane season and Cassy received the invitation to join them. They would be fishing about thirty miles off the Baja Coast in Mexico. I provided Heidi their whereabouts who assured me the Cartel would be crawling about the boat like ants on a “floating sugar bowl”. Just before they sailed, Cassy phoned and said she’d be late but would join them at sea after chartering a boat.
I was aware of a storm approaching with hazardous ocean swells. We’d both wear life vests but vest or not, falling off the boat would mean drowning to death. I heard the explosion and Cassy watched through binoculars as Settlement Fee burned and sank.
The Cartel did Cassy’s bidding but she got more than she bargained for. I was certain all were dead. I expected her to be happy, instead, she retreated to the cabin and looked like she had just been notified her steed, Justice, who had been declared the winner of the race, lost by a “nose” in a “photo finish”. She was remorseful saying,
“I thought they’d be beaten, robbed, and the old bastard would suffer a fatal heart attack but I didn’t expect absolute annihilation.”
On the way back home, the boat was traversing high waves and forceful winds. We were up and down like a rollercoaster ride. I feared Cassy might fold under pressure if an investigation ensued. She was a street-smart shyster who could bend the facts of this caper and wiggle out of the jam while layin’ it all on me. I could see it comin’ like the eye of this storm. At sea, there’s no insurance policy vending machine like you find inside an airport terminal. I decided to write my own policy.
Cassy didn’t eat before sailing despite my warnings to thwart off seasickness with a light meal. She was belting Tequila shots all the way down and back. I warned her to stay inside the cabin or face getting blown overboard by the fierce windstorm.
I told Cassy if she needed to vomit, to lean over and “heave” from the “stern”. She ran from the cabin and to the back of the boat to vomit. My “policy” was delivered by a massive wave heading right for my boat. I knew instinctively to turn the boat beam directly into the wave to avoid capsizing. I turned the boat sharply throwing Cassy into the waves. Sassy Cassy rode the crest of a twelve-foot wave with the same smile on her alter ego’s cartoon character’s face while riding Justice. The wave came crashing down like the ferocious flush of a bus terminal toilet, and Cassy disappeared.
I reached for the ship-to-shore radio,
Mayday, Mayday, Mayday,
This is fishing vessel ‘JonnyBGood’, ‘JonnyBGood’, ‘JonnyBGood’
Mayday.
JonnyBGood
Lawyer, I mean person, overboard.
32°19'01.7"N 117°18'35.8"W
I installed an onboard video and audio system to record the floating orgies my charter’s paid handsomely to remember. It paid for itself many times over when I used it for extortion opportunities.
The Coast Guard and the Mexican Navy conducted a search and investigation. They wanted to nail me for Cassy’s death but my hidden onboard cameras taped the entire trip showing us wearing vests and my audible warnings to Cassy to stay inside the cabin. I presented them with the video and Cassy’s written charter excursion contract including warning disclosures she signed. They concluded it was an accidental overboard drowning during a storm.
It was an “open and shut” case. Cassy was never found. I was questioned whether I had seen a missing vessel named “Settlement Fee” which was presumed destroyed with all aboard in the storm. My cameras couldn’t pick up the carnage several miles away but the sound of the explosion was recorded. I told them we heard an explosion somewhere in the distance but saw nothing. The Cone of Uncertainty erased all evidence of the Cartel’s piracy.
“Why would Cassy blow the scheme and rat Jonny out, Stuey?
“Afterall, she got her money and revenge.”
“We’ll never know but Jonny correctly played his hand. I’ll take this story to the ‘finish line’ with no ‘photo finish’ required.”
I believe that despite her flaws and zealous self-promotion, Cassy wanted to win fair and square in court and regretted the outcome at sea. She was a good lawyer at heart. In the end, the legal system wasn’t built for lawyers like Cassy struggling to earn a living scraping by earning justice for their ordinary clients. It was created for wealthy clients and corporations who could hire powerful law firms. She was and always would be, an “outsider”, a small-time shyster.
With Cassy missing at sea and presumed dead, I consulted the only attorney I knew, a customer from the Sunshyne Shak who operated “Tom’s Traffic Ticket Fixit & DUI Defender Law Office”. He said Jonny had full rights as beneficiary to the one-million-dollar insurance policy payout. Like all life insurance companies, they didn’t want to pay, but Tommy convinced them to pay with a threatened lawsuit.
The old man’s law firm settled with the SSA. It was reported each hospital received about twenty million dollars earmarked for the release of homeless patients into convalescent homes and group homes who, in turn, dumped them onto the streets after the payments dried up from the hospitals. In the end, only the hospitals and the attorneys were the victors. The homeless problem around town got so bad, me and Jonny decided to get the hell of town and settle here.
Since Jonny was the beneficiary of Cassy’s policy, we agreed to keep less than what Cassy promised to pay us for our help in her class action suit. We bought this dive with the money and we’re partners.
“What about the remainder of the million?”
After receiving the one-million-dollar payout, I expected Jonny to set sail and skip town without me. I went to the marina and sure enough “JonnyBGood” was nowhere to be found. I headed over to the Sunshyne Shak where I found Zondra nursing Jonny’s swollen split lip with an ice bag. I asked him,
“Where’s your boat?”
“Getting overhauled in drydock before our move to Baja, Stuey.”
“Who beat you up?”
Zondra patted Jonny’s head,
“Jonny and I had a minor disagreement on how he’d spend his insurance money.
“He saw it my way.”
Sy was an old hippie I’d see around the Sunshyne Shak wearin’ tye-dyed shirts, sandals, and what was left of his long grey hair in a ponytail.
Zondra made an introduction to the former Watergate prosecutor and civil liberties lawyer who made a career getting death row and life sentences commuted. After retiring, he decided to teach law. The opportunity to channel his hatred for the managed-care medical monolith he blamed for killing his beloved wife by denying cutting-edge chemo which might have prolonged her life culminated in a proposal.
Sy proposed Jonny donate the insurance money to fund a new homeless legal advocacy program he would spearhead. Jonny agreed and donated the money in the name of,
“The Cassy McClintock, Esq. Legal Advocacy Project”
Sy found a cause which energized him prosecuting the hospitals like a dog after a bone. He assembled the best and brightest law students and idealistic lawyers up and down the state into a formidable legal commando squad. They brought a lawsuit against the four hospitals forcing an audit of their spending of the SSA settlement proceeds with embarrassing implications for the hospitals and their boards.
The lawsuit resulted in a “claw back” of the money from the hospitals paid by the SSA to a “Special Administrator” who ensured the settlement money was paid out to grassroots homeless outreach providers. The old man’s law firm was shamed and “donated” their legal fees to the Special Administrator.
The success of Sy’s lawsuits spread like a wildfire up and down California creating legal precedents benefiting the homeless the courts couldn’t deny and the powerful couldn’t prevent. Sy found peace with his wife’s death knowing he was fighting the “good fight” although he admitted the homeless problem would persist. He often mentioned the valuable donation made by Cassy to the media and, in the process, “slaying” her ridiculous cartoon alter-ego and creating a principled legal philanthropist.
I hope Cassy would be proud.
Sometimes when I’m polishing glasses or pouring a drink, the hairs on the back of my neck will stand up. I’ll look towards the door expecting to see Sassy Cassy walk in.
“What happened to Heidi?”
“She got too cozy with the Cartel and fell off the ‘radar screen’, friend.”
“We’re all ‘judged by the company we keep’, I suppose.”
“Ain’t nobody judging us, friend.
“Me and Stuey are ‘two peas in a pod.’”
“We’re more like a couple of dice comin’ up ‘snake eyes’, Jonny.
“That’s it, ‘The End’.
“I hope we entertained you with a lurid tale you didn’t bargain for when you walked into this dive.”
“I’m drunk and my heads spinning from your picture-perfect, punctuated, pornographic tale.
“I’ll wake up tomorrow onboard the cruise ship and remember only a nightmare.”
“If you have to vomit, remember to do it from the stern, friend.”
“Here’s your tab.
“Credit card or cash?”
“Cash.
“Definitely, cash!”
“Want a complimentary limo ride back to the ship, friend?”
“I’ll get a cab.
“God help me!”
“What’s your name, friend?”
“Mr. Jones!”
“Look at him run for the exit, Jonny.”
“He reminds me of the dude dashing for the door after you added the ‘secret sauce’ to his ‘Polynesian Pearl Diver’ cocktail as punishment for groping the stripper, Stuey.”
“You were tough on ‘Mr. Jones’, Jonny.”
“I’m just given’ ‘em what they want, Stuey.”