AT THE ROOSTER BAR, the partners huddled in a booth, as far away as possible from the late afternoon crowd. Mark had just finished his Cromley story and they were deflated. Zola asked, “So what happens next?”
Mark said, “Let’s assume the worst. The likeliest scenario is that Cromley looks at the medical records, which I can delay for a few days but he’s not going away, and then he has them reviewed by another expert. If liability is as clear as Koonce says it is, Cromley will know before long that Ramon and his ex-wife had a damned good case. Since he can’t sue the doctors and the hospital, he’ll have no one to come after but us. So he’ll file a $10 million lawsuit against our little firm and then the fix is in. At some point, and we can’t predict exactly when, we’ll be exposed. He’ll check with the Bar Council and learn the truth. The Bar Council will then notify the courts and start an investigation. Our names are on dozens of court orders, so it won’t take long to piece things together.”
“And this will be a criminal investigation?” Zola said.
“Yes, we knew when we started that unauthorized practice is a crime. Not a serious one, but a crime nonetheless.”
“But a felony, as opposed to a misdemeanor.”
“A felony.”
Todd said, “There’s something else, Zola. We were going to tell you but just didn’t get the chance.”
She said, “Can’t wait. Let’s hear it.”
Mark and Todd exchanged looks, and Todd began, “Well, there’s this cute little prosecutor in Division 10, name of Hadley Caviness. Mark met her in a bar a few weeks back and they hooked up. Evidently, she hooks up a lot and likes variety. I met her in court one day, one thing led to another, and we had some fun. Twice. Over a bagel the morning after she lets me know that she’s onto our little fake firm. She says she’s cool, thinks it’s funny, likes to keep secrets, and so on, but in this business you can’t trust anyone.”
“Especially fake lawyers,” Zola said. “I thought we agreed to limit our contact with others.”
“I tried,” Mark said.
“She’s very cute,” Todd added.
“Why haven’t you told me before now?”
“It just happened last weekend,” Mark said. “We think she’s harmless.”
“Harmless?” Zola said, rolling her eyes. “So, we have cute little Hadley to think about and Darrell Cromley to actually worry about.”
“And don’t forget Mossberg down in Charleston,” Mark said. “He’s an ass and he’d love nothing more than to burn us.”
“Brilliant,” she said. “After three months in business, Upshaw, Parker & Lane is going under.” She took a sip of her soft drink and looked around the bar. Nothing was said for a long time as the three licked their wounds and pondered their next moves. Finally, she said, “Signing up the med mal case was a bad move, wasn’t it? We had no idea what to do with it, and we really screwed it up. A disaster for us, but think about Ramon and his ex-wife. They get nothing because of us.”
“They sat on the case for two years, Zola,” Mark said.
Todd said, “We can rehash this forever and get nowhere. We need to focus on tomorrow.”
Another long gap in the conversation. Todd walked to the bar, got two more beers, and returned with them to the table. He said, “Think about this. When Cromley sues us for legal malpractice, the named defendants will be Todd Lane, Mark Upshaw, and Zola Parker. Three people who do not exist. How can he discover our true identities?”
Zola said, “And we’re assuming cute little Hadley does not know our real names either, right?”
“Of course not,” Mark said.
“And Mossberg?”
“He has no clue.”
“So, we have to either hide or run,” she said.
“We’re already hiding,” Todd said. “But they’ll find us. Hell, if Ramon can get this close, I’m sure professional investigators can track us down. Our address is on at least a million of those business cards we’ve been throwing at people.”
“Nothing will happen fast,” Mark said. “It’ll take Cromley a month or so to file a lawsuit. We’ll know when he does because we’ll be watching the dockets. Then he’ll realize he’s sued some people who don’t exist, and that’ll screw him up for even longer. The Bar Council will chase its tail looking for three phantom lawyers.”
Todd said, “I guess we need to stay away from the criminal courts.”
“Oh, yes. Those days are over. No more hustling the poor and oppressed.”
“What about our pending cases? We can’t just drop these people.”
Mark said, “That’s exactly what we’ll do. We can’t close these cases because we can’t risk going back to court. Again, those days are over. Starting now, don’t take any phone calls from a client or anyone else for that matter. Let’s use prepaid cell phones to keep in touch and ignore all other calls.”
Zola said, “I’m already carrying two phones. Now a third?”
“Yes, and we have to monitor all of them to see who’s looking for us,” Mark said.
“And my days as a hospital vulture are over?” she asked and managed a smile.
“Afraid so.”
“You weren’t very good at it,” Todd said.
“Thanks. I hated every minute of it.”
A manager walked over and said, “Hey, Todd, you’re on tonight. We’re shorthanded and need you now.”
“Be there in a sec,” Todd said and waved the guy off. When he was gone, Todd asked, “So, gang, what’s next?”
“We go after Swift Bank,” Mark said.
“And dig a deeper hole,” Zola replied, but it was not a question.
—
MORGANA NASH AT NowAssist sent Mark an e-mail that read,
Dear Mark: I have just been informed by the administration at Foggy Bottom Law School that you have been placed on withdrawal status. I called the law school and was informed that you have not been to class this semester. This is very troubling. Please contact me immediately.
Last installment Jan. 13, 2014: $32,500; total principal/interest: $266,000.
Sincerely, Morgana Nash, Public Sector Representative
Late that night, and after several more beers, Mark responded,
Dear Ms. Nash: Last week my therapist had me admitted to a private psychiatric hospital in rural Maryland. I’m not supposed to use the Internet but these clowns around here are not too sharp. Would you please stop hounding me? According to one shrink here I’m borderline suicidal. A bit more abuse from you and I could go over the edge. Please, please, leave me alone!!
Love, Mark Frazier
Rex Wagner of Scholar Support Partners e-mailed Todd:
Dear Mr. Lucero: I have been informed by your law school that you are now officially considered “Withdrawn.” I called the law school and was told that you have not attended a single class this semester, your last before graduation. Why would any sane student drop out of law school during his last semester? If you are not in school I can only assume you are working somewhere, probably in a bar. Employment of any nature while not enrolled in school triggers either the need for a repayment plan or, in the absence of one, default. Default, as I’m sure you know, means a lawsuit filed against you by the Department of Education. Please contact me immediately.
Last installment: $32,500, Jan. 13, 2014; total due: $195,000
Sincerely, Rex Wagner, Senior Loan Counselor