ZOLA, STILL DRESSED casually, moved from one courtroom to the other, sizing up defendants who appeared without lawyers. The judges often asked them where they worked, were they married, and so on. Most had jobs that were not that impressive. She took notes on some of the better prospects. Using the names and addresses from the dockets for reference, she made a list of names for her partners to call. After a couple of hours, she became bored with the grinding monotony of small-time criminal justice.
It might have been boring, but it was more fun than sitting in class and worrying about the bar exam.
—
AT FIVE, THEY entered The Rooster Bar and found a corner table. Mark fetched two beers and a soda from the bar and ordered sandwiches. He would work the six-to-midnight shift, so the drinks and food were on the house.
They were pleased with their first day on the job. Todd had snagged one DUI client and appeared before Judge Cantu. The prosecutor had mentioned that he had never seen Todd before, and he replied that he had been around for a year. Mark had hustled a simple assault in Division 9 and appeared before a judge who looked him over but said nothing. Within a few days their faces would be familiar.
Their haul was $1,600 cash, with promissory notes for another $1,400. Add the fact that their earnings were non-reportable and tax-free, and they were almost giddy with the prospects of striking gold. The beauty of their scheme was its brazenness. No one in his right mind would stand in front of a judge and pass himself off as a lawyer.
19
At midnight, Mark climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and entered his cramped apartment. Todd was waiting on the sofa with his laptop. There were two empty cans of beer on the flimsy coffee table they’d purchased for $10. Mark got a beer from the small fridge and fell into a chair across from the sofa. He was exhausted and needed sleep. “What are you working on?” he asked.
“The class action. There are now four of them filed against Swift Bank, and it looks like it’s a simple matter of calling one of the lawyers and signing on. I think it’s time to do it. These guys are advertising like crazy but only on the Internet. No TV ads yet, and I think the reason is that each claim is worth so little. These are not injury cases with big values. The damages are not much, just a few bucks for the bogus fees and such that Swift padded onto the monthly statements. The beauty is that there are so many of them, maybe as many as a million customers who got clipped by Swift.”
“I saw where the CEO appeared before Congress today.”
“Yes, and it was a bloodletting. The guy got hammered from both sides of the aisle. He was a terrible witness, I mean the guy was literally sweating, and the committee had a field day with him. Everyone is demanding his resignation. One blogger thinks Swift looks so bad it has no choice but to settle this mess quickly and move on. He thinks the bank will throw a billion or so at the class actions, then spend some real money with a new ad campaign to gloss over its sins.”
“The usual. No mention of Rackley?”
“Oh no. The guy is hiding behind his wall of shell companies. I’ve been looking for hours and there’s no mention of him or his fronts. I wonder if Gordy was right about his involvement with Swift.”
“I’ll bet he’s right, but we need to keep digging.”
They were quiet for a moment. Normally, a television would be on, but they had yet to call the cable company. They planned to piggyback on the line from the bar, but they were not ready for a lot of questions from an installer. Their two flat screens were in a corner.
Mark finally said, “Gordy, Gordy. How often do you think of him?”
“A lot,” Todd said. “All the time.”
“Do you ask yourself what we should’ve done different?”
“Truthfully, yes. We could have done this or that, but Gordy was not himself. I’m not sure we could have stopped him.”
“I tell myself that. I miss him, though. I miss him a lot. I wonder what he would think if he could see us now.”
“The Gordy we once knew would tell us we’re crazy. But that last guy would probably want to join our firm.”
“As the senior partner, no doubt.” They managed a quick laugh. Mark said, “I read a story once about a guy who killed himself. Some shrink was going on about the futility of trying to understand it. It’s impossible, makes no sense at all. Once a person reaches that point, he’s in another world, one that his survivors will never understand. And if you do figure it out, then you might be in trouble yourself.”
“Well, I’m not in trouble, because I’ll never understand it. Sure he had a lot of problems, but suicide wasn’t the answer. Gordy could have cleaned up, got his meds straight, worked things out with Brenda, or not. If he had said no to the wedding, he would have been much happier in the long run. You and I have the same problems with law school, the bar exam, unemployment, loan sharks, and we’re not suicidal. In fact, we’re fighting back.”
“And we’re not bipolar, so we’ll never understand.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” Todd said.
Mark chugged his beer. “Right. What about our hit list?”
Todd closed his laptop and placed it on the floor. “Nothing. I called eight of our prospective victims and no one wanted to talk. The phone is a great equalizer, and these folks are not nearly as nervous tonight as they were in court today.”
“Does it seem too easy? I mean, we signed up three thousand bucks in fees today, and we had no idea what we’re doing.”
“We had a good day and won’t always be so lucky. What’s amazing is the traffic, the sheer number of people who get chewed up by the system.”
“Thank God for them.”
“It’s an endless supply.”
“This is crazy, you know? And it’s not sustainable.”
“True, but we could run this racket for a long time. And it sure beats the alternative.”
Mark took a sip, exhaled mightily, and closed his eyes. “There’s no turning back. We’re violating too many laws. Unauthorized practice. Tax evasion. And I suppose some code section on labor laws. If we join the class action against Swift, we can add that to our list.”
“Are you having second thoughts?” Todd asked.
“No. You?”
“No, but I do worry about Zola. At times I feel like we’ve dragged her into it. She’s awfully fragile right now, and frightened.”
Mark opened his eyes and stretched his legs. “True, but at least she feels safe now. She has a good hiding spot and that’s of the utmost importance. She’s a tough girl, Todd, who’s survived more than we can imagine. Right now she’s where she wants to be. She needs us.”
“Poor girl. She met with Ronda tonight, had a drink somewhere, and told her that she was thinking about taking a semester off, said she couldn’t focus right now on law school and the bar exam. She thinks she sold the story. I talked to Wilson and told him that the two of us would eventually show up for classes. He’s concerned but I assured him we’re okay. Maybe these people will leave us alone.”
“If we ignore them they’ll forget about us. They have more pressing matters to worry about.”