Short Fuse
© 1992/2016 by K Pelle
Chapter 19
As I drove, I was thinking about the time we were wasting and about how I'd rather be back at the cabin instead of fighting my way through all the crap that was going on. I felt I was wasting time when I could be creating the plot of a new book that was almost begging to be written. I decided to detour slightly and go to the Tim Horton's that was just down the street from my bank. That way I could at least kill two birds with one stone and check my bank balances while I was there.
"Arlene, can you take the girls inside and get them doughnuts and whatever?" I asked as I parked in the doughnut shop parking lot. "I'm going to go handle a bit of business. I should only be a few minutes, but it might take a little longer."
"Sure, I can look after the girls for a while, but what are you up to?"
"I'll be in the bank," I gestured. "I just want to check my account balance and get a few bucks cash."
"Oh, I see. Okay, but don't take too long, please. I want to talk about that situation back at your house before we go anywhere else."
"Daddy, could you check the account balance in my savings account too?" Shannon asked quietly.
"I suppose I could," I turned and looked at her. "Do you think something is wrong?"
"No, it's just that with all this stuff going on with Mom and all, I think everything should be checked," she shrugged. "I could come along if you need me to sign anything."
"I don't think you need to," I sighed softly. "You can if you want to though. You're certainly welcome."
"Oh, it's not that important, I just thought that maybe I could help," she managed to smile. "I really don't care about that money myself. It's just that you seemed uptight about it."
"Punkin, right now I'm uptight about everything," I smiled weakly. "Until we get all this stuff figured out, I'll probably be uptight quite often about a bunch of things."
She seemed to accept that because she didn't protest any further. As the three of them headed off for a quick snack, I walked toward my bank, wondering what I was going to find. When I came around the front of the bank building, I saw several people standing there and realised that the bank hadn't opened yet. I'd just glanced at my watch to see if I had long to wait when the doors did open and the people began to file in.
I followed. Instead of joining the lineup of people who were going toward the bank tellers, I headed straight for the help desk and saw that a woman I recognised was working there.
"Good morning Clarice. I was wondering if I could speak to someone about several things and . . ."
"Oh, Mr. Gamble. Of course, of course. I am so sorry to hear about your loss," she was on her feet immediately and waved me around the counter. "May I take you back to see Mr. Wilks, our assistant manager? He's been familiarising himself with your accounts and the situation."
"Thank you," I said in surprise, not expecting anything like this.
Only seconds later I was entering a small office and being introduced to a tall, skinny, sandy-haired man who reached out his hand and offered his condolences as well. After a very feeble handshake he managed a weak smile and waved his hand toward a chair.
"Please Mr. Gamble, have a seat. I've actually been going over your accounts due to several police requests for information in regard to the activities of your spouse before her untimely demise. What can I help you with?"
"Well, I want to know the standing balance and unusual activity on everything in all of my family's accounts. I want my account balance, my deceased wife's balance, our joint balance, my daughter's balance and I want those for both our checking and savings accounts as well as for the investment accounts. I want to know exactly what has been happening to all of our funds in the last year or two."
"I expected that to be the case and I've been investigating the situation since the police made their request for information about your deceased wife's accounts," he sighed and frowned. "Basically, I can give you a quick verbal rundown of the situation and have a printed statement ready for you in about four hours."
"Judging from the way you said that, it doesn't sound good," I said shortly.
"It's far better than it could have been," he smiled weakly. "However, the situation is not ideal. Just recently your deceased wife cleaned out her accounts and your joint checking account. There was only the one withdrawal of five thousand dollars from your joint savings account. That is bank standard for the maximum allowable withdrawal in any one year without the physical presence of all of the customers with signing authority on the account in question. Your joint account has been overdrawn and the automatic overdraft has been activated each month for at least the last six months. I have yet to check back further at this time.
"It appears that your deceased spouse was doing as much as she could to deplete your accounts and . . ." he had a very fake sorrowful look on his face as he shook his head. "I do apologise for this. We should have caught it sooner."
"You had no reason to be suspicious," I sighed. "It sounds to me like she had figured out exactly how much she could get away with without drawing attention to herself. How are the rest of the accounts?"
"Well, your personal checking account has been drawn down drastically in the last few months as well and your daughter's account . . ."
"Hold it, how can that be? I have never written any checks on my personal account and my daughter's account is strictly a savings account and should have had no withdrawals at all. I've been using my credit card for most of my purchases and doing direct withdrawals from the joint account here at the bank. All I asked for then were small cash amounts when I needed it," I frowned at him. "Come to think of it, the credit card is an automatic payment, so are all the utility bills, and all of those are on the joint account. In fact, the last check of any kind that I signed was for my income tax return early this year and before that was the check when I paid for Claire's new minivan and that was a bank authorized check."
"Oh my!" his face looked ashen. "There have been numerous large checks drawn on your personal account and I'm positive that they all have your signature."
"Damn it, that's impossible," I exploded. "It's not something that I do at any time."
"Oh my, oh my, oh my, oh my," Wilks stared at me. "When was the last time you used a check against that account?"
"I told you. I have never withdrawn a penny from that account, not even for my income tax. I don't even have a checkbook for that account. I use that as a transition and investment account and do a bank transfer to our joint account if there is a case when I need some ready cash in a hurry," I said flatly. "Those other checks I mentioned were placed on the joint account for the taxes and on my savings account for the minivan. In the last case, I phoned the bank manager because he knew that I never write checks on my savings account and I cleared it with him before I wrote it out."
"Oh dear," he looked totally crestfallen as he handed me a cancelled check. "I have a check here that has your signature and . . ."
"Oh come on!" I growled instantly, interrupting him. "That doesn't look anything like my signature. Who the hell would authorise this check and accept that as my signature?"
He was leafing through a pile of paper and he finally pulled out one that looked like an agreement form.
"Oh goodness, I have your signature samples here and you are right, there is little resemblance with the signature on this check."
"I think I'll be changing banks," I said quietly. "And I think I will be talking to my lawyer in regard to those illegal withdrawals as well."
"Oh please Mr Gamble, don't be angry or do anything hasty. Let me get the manager, perhaps he can do something to . . ."
"Could you give me one good reason why I shouldn't be angry. Could you give me one good reason why I shouldn't be willing to have my lawyer prepare a lawsuit against this bank?" I growled low in my throat. "I can forgive you for what's happened to my joint account with Claire, but don't the instructions on that paper you are holding in your hand mean anything to you? If you read those instructions, I believe you will find that any check drawn against any other account than the joint account must be preauthorized by a phone call from me to a bank officer, does it not?"
"B-bu-but, your wife had a change made last December and . . ."
"So the bank simply decided that my wife should be authorized to make changes to my personal banking instructions? What part of the word 'personal' don't you understand Mr. Wilks? Is that the part where the bank simply ignores the fact that there is little similarity between my signature and a forgery? Or is that the part where the bank decided it could accept the word of another individual to make changes to my instructions?" I was furious so my voice was extremely low and Wilks was leaning forward, hanging on every word.
Somehow the way he looked at me made me wonder if something was going on. Suddenly I was sure that he was hiding something and it was like a trigger was pulled. I totally lost my cool.
"Now, since you ask, I WANT TO SEE YOUR BOSS, AND I WANT TO SEE HIM NOW!" I bellowed as I stood up.
He snapped backward as if I had struck him and his face went white.
"I-I-I'll s-s-see if he's f-f-f-free," he stammered, slipping past me and scurrying out of the office.
I was seething with anger and I was frustrated, but I managed to control my anger. I forced myself to sit back down and look closely at the two pieces of paper in my hands. One was a fraudulent check and the other was a banking agreement that was at least as old as Shannon. My hands were shaking so much that I could hardly read the words on the paper.
"Wo-wo-would you come this way, p-p-please?" Wilks was back and standing at the door.
"NO! I WILL NOT!" I said loudly. "YOU HAVE ALL OF MY PAPERS HERE AND I'M SURE THAT WE'RE GOING TO NEED TO REFER TO THEM DURING THE COMING DISCUSSION CONCERNING THE ILLEGAL ACTIONS THIS BANK HAS TAKEN."
"But Sir, the manager's office is larger and . . ."
"NO, BECAUSE THE MANAGER'S OFFICE IS PROBABLY SOUNDPROOF," I roared, then continued slightly less loudly. "I'd rather that other people can hear how badly this bank can screw up on their handling of ALL of my accounts. Either the bank manager comes here to speak to me, or I leave now, but before I leave, I want some assurance that someone in this bank won't do a cover-up of what's going on. I'm getting suspicious that Claire had inside help in ripping me off. I'm thinking of speaking to my lawyer to see if he can suggest an auditing company who can check to see if this bank has depleted my accounts intentionally. I'm not about to sit back and let you get away with giving away tens of thousands of dollars of my hard earned money."
He looked at me in panic, then he scurried away again. He was back in only a moment with an older man, one that I recognised from previous dealings with the bank. It was John Dunlop, the bank manager.
"Hello John," I said flatly as I stood up to greet him. "Maybe you can help by explaining to me just what the hell is going on?"
"Hello Dave," he held out his hand. "I realise that you're upset but . . ."
"John, I'm not in the mood to be schmoozed. I WANT ANSWERS AND I WANT THEM NOW," I said flatly and very loudly, refusing to take his hand. "So far this morning I've found out that the bank has done almost everything it could to arrange for Claire to rip me off and I want to know who is responsible and what you are going to do about it?"
"Well, the joint account was handled with standard procedure," he said quietly. "However, I think we will need to look into the signature of the banks representative on the form that Mrs. Gamble had to fill out to make changes on any of the other accounts. Mr. Wilks, would you find those forms for me please?"
"C-c-certainly sir, b-b-but I c-c-can t-t-tell you right now that it was m-m-me, s-s-sir," Wilks quavered.
"JOHN, I DON'T WANT THAT MAN TO TOUCH EVEN ONE MORE FORM OR PIECE OF PAPER THAT CONCERNS MY ACCOUNTS FROM THIS MOMENT ON," I barked even more loudly. "As of this moment, I don't want him even close to me. He's a . . ."
"Now Dave, please. Mr Wilks is . . ."
"JOHN, RIGHT NOW, I AM MAKING A STATEMENT THAT YOU HAD BEST LISTEN TO CLOSELY," I interrupted and by then I was bellowing so that everyone in the bank could hear me. "I BELIEVE THAT MR. WILKS MAY WELL HAVE BEEN IN COLLUSION WITH MY WIFE IN DEFRAUDING ME OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS, PERHAPS HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS. I BELIEVE HE HAS THE ABILITY TO COVER HIS TRACKS IF HE HANDLES ANYTHING TO DO WITH MY ACCOUNTS AND I AM REQUESTING THAT YOU PREVENT THAT FROM HAPPENING. I AM REQUESTING THAT YOU COOPERATE NOW BECAUSE I DO NOT WISH TO INSTIGATE A LAWSUIT AGAINST THIS BANK FOR FRAUD AND ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES, HOWEVER I AM WILLING TO DO SO IF NEED BE."
Suddenly Wilks was scurrying away and John turned to stare after him.
"Oh, my goodness," John said softly, then he shouted. "SECURITY, DETAIN THAT MAN! Grab Wilks and hold onto him! Miss Parkinson, call the police."
Wilks saw the security guard move his way and he spun around. He came dashing back our direction, shoved John out of the way and sprinted toward a door that I suspected opened into the parking lot.
He didn't quite make it.
I managed to weave past John Dunlop's flailing arms, then had three paces to build up speed before I left the ground in a flying tackle that caught Wilks well above the waist, then wrapped my arms around his rib cage. That tackle had dropped much bigger men on the gridiron and in this case, it threw both of us against the emergency door. The door sprang open because of the panic handle, setting off the bank alarm, then spilling the two of us out and down a small set of steps into a sandy parking lot. Thankfully Wilks's body protected my body from any sharp gravel, but I did suffer a few minor bruises and abrasions to my forearms.
Since Wilks was out cold, I simply rolled over and sat up. In fact I was sitting there, calmly picking tiny bits of gravel out of my arm, as the bank's security guard came rushing out the door. In seconds he was followed by John Dunlop.
"Now do you believe me?" I growled as I looked up at John's astonished face.
The next few moments were extremely hectic. In that time, John Dunlop offered me his hand to help me to my feet, and the security guard took up position over Wilks's comatose body. He was just asking what he should do with Wilks when a black and white police car showed up and in minutes the police had cuffed the skinny crook. Then just as I was going back inside with John Dunlop, Dick Fairchild came driving into the parking lot.
"Oh hell. John, see that detective? Will you talk to him and keep him busy for a while? After ten minutes or so, will you tell him that I've gone over to Tim Horton's to have coffee with my family?"
"But what about your accounts and . . ." John asked.
"I'll be back, but I need to calm down first. Besides that, my family will be getting worried."
I broke away from him and walked through the bank, then out the front door and down the street. Inside Tim's, I saw Arlene and the girls sitting at a booth near the far end. I waved, then went to the counter to order a double-double and a glazed doughnut. As soon as I was served, I walked back to sit down at Arlene's side as she slid over to make room for me.
"What took you so long?" she asked.
"Oh, it's a bloody mess," I sighed. "They're making some progress on sorting it out now though. I'll have to go in and find out exactly what's going on later."
"Did Mom rip us off, Dad?" Shannon asked quietly.
"Yeah, I think she tried, but it could have been a lot worse," I nodded. "I think things might be looking up now though. I sorta stirred things up a bit."
I was stirring my coffee when Cindy reached over and touched my hand.
"Why are you scratched up and bleeding?"
"Oh, I sort fell down and I guess I skinned my arm a bit, but it's okay."
"Both of them?" Arlene asked.
Just then Dick Fairchild came bursting in the door.
"THERE YOU ARE!" he bellowed. "I want to talk to you!"
"Fine, get yourself a cup of coffee," I said quietly. "Girls, scooch over and make room for the detective."
"Now just a minute . . ."
"Dick, you have a choice; get yourself a coffee and sit down, or go back to the bank and wait for me. I'm not moving and I'm not talking to you about anything to do with ANY of the crap that I've become involved in recently until after I've had my coffee."
He stared at me for several seconds, then he simply sighed and went to get a coffee, coming back to slide in at Shannon's side. He stared at me for a bit, then after a few seconds, his gaze shifted to Arlene.
"Do you understand what's going on?" he asked.
"Other than that Dave seems to be giving you a second chance? No, I don't know a damn thing, however I do know that when he's ready, he'll explain," she grinned at him. "Since he was at the bank and now you're here, I'd guess that he found a problem and called you though."
"You'd be wrong," Dick snapped. "I had to hear about it on the radio. They called in the black and whites and I followed them here."
"Well, that makes up for this morning when you had all the nosey news people on hand to meet us," I growled. "After all, turn about is fair play. It seems that neither one of us likes surprises very much."
"That wasn't our fault," he tried to claim. "That was . . ."
"Dick, it was your fault," I said shortly. "No one, but you needed to know that you were meeting us at the house."
"Okay, the fact that the black and whites were there was my fault, but they were the one's who blabbed about it over the radio. They were kidding that they were going to get to meet the elusive guy that Arlene had finally taken up with," he sighed. "That bitch from Channel Seven news was listening to a scanner and I think she passed the word around to every photographer and media person in the city."
"Is she the one who went marching into my house with a cameraman?" I growled.
"You saw that too?" he stared at me. "Oh hell. Yes, that was her."
"And who gave her permission to walk into my house?" I said as icily as I could.
"We think it was one of the men who was going inside to tear out the old carpet in your office. It certainly wasn't a police officer," he stared down at his coffee cup. "Actually because she went inside without having official permission in any way, I had an excuse to confiscate the camera that was filming her, along with all of her notes. That's when we discovered that she had picked up a few of your personal photos, pictures of you, your former wife and Shannon, so I arrested and handcuffed her. She was formally charged with theft, invasion of privacy and trespass, then taken off in handcuffs. After that she was photographed by about ten different photographers from other media outlets as she was placed in the back seat of a black and white to be taken downtown and booked.
"That's when I noticed she had a police scanner in her car, so I called the chief. Since police scanners are illegal in this province now, the chief pushed for a warrant to include a search of all of the media vehicles that were nearby. We found and confiscated four more vehicles that had police scanners installed in them," Dick smiled at last. "While we were at it, we did a search and seizure of anything that we found that could have material pretaining to your home in any way. I think we collected something like thirty different cameras and we arrested six or seven people, four of them for trespass and at least two or three for interfering with a police officer in the performance of his duties."
"How did the chief do that?" Arlene said quietly. "I don't understand how he could order a search of their vehicles."
"The chief happened to be in Judge Parker's office when I called him and the Judge wrote him a warrant almost instantly. I don't know why, but he seems to have the same hatred for the media that Dave does."
"Is that Judge Lucius Parker?" I asked.
"Yeah, but as far as I know, he's the only Judge Parker in this town."
"Well, if you check in the old newspaper files from about fifteen or sixteen years ago, you'll find that the press here and in Vancouver hounded his son unmercifully. They implied in print, as well as on radio and television, that his son was guilty of running a drug ring at the University. I doubt if the Judge will have forgiven them, because although they did print a retraction, it was too little and too late. His son had died by then, after being in a car wreck that I've always suspected was a suicide."
"You make that sound like you knew his son," Arlene said quietly.
"Yeah. He was on the same football team as I was . . . and he was engaged to my sister, who happened to be pregnant with his child at the time of his death. The shock of him being accused of running a drug ring, and then his suicide threw her for a loop and she lost the unborn child."
"Oh my God!" Arlene whispered.
"Well, it's not something we talk about much, but I think you can understand why I don't have much use for the media and their muckraking minions," I said quietly. "Tom's roommate at the boardinghouse where he was staying was into drugs and on one of our out of town games, he dropped a package into Tom's game bag. On the way to the game, someone stole the bag, probably as it was being unloaded from the bus. When it was found later there were traces of cocaine in it. Since that bag could be traced to Tom because it contained his gear, the press jumped on his back and literally prejudged him to be guilty."
"They just kept on hounding him, even after his roommate was arrested and admitted that Tom had nothing to do with the drugs," I growled. "Michelle and I both tried to talk to Tom, but he was trying to protect us, so he wouldn't meet us in person. The last time I talked to him on the phone, he was going to drive out to meet his dad at the airport. Later that day I got a call from Michelle, Tom had been killed in a car accident. His car had hit a bridge abutment head-on. The investigating officers estimated that the car was travelling at about ninety miles an hour."
"I remember that," Dick said quietly. "The Sidney RCMP said there was a light mist, but not enough to impair visibility and that there were no skid marks from the brakes of the car. They wrote it up as an accident though, due to reduced visibility. I remember at the time that I thought it was a whitewash job, because Tom was a lawyer's son."
"Yeah, well that was probably the worst thing they could have done," I sighed. "If it had been proven that it was a suicide, I think Tom's dad would have been able to sue the news media. Anyway, now you know why he was willing to sign that warrant so quickly this morning."
"And that's why you said you wanted to sue the people at your house?"
"No, not really," I managed to speak without growling. "I want to sue those bastards for all the things they're doing wrong to hundreds of other people, not just Tom. I want to sue them for the fact that they sensationalise little details and turning them into massive problems. I want to sue them for riding rough shod over people's rights. I want to sue them for invading people's private lives and ruining those people's reputations. I want to sue them for snooping where they're not wanted and aren't needed. I want to sue them for interfering with the police. Do you want any more reasons? I've got lots more."
I stood up and looked Dick in the eye. "I'm going back to speak to my bank manager for a moment, then I'm going to drive to my house. If you want to see me and talk to me, you can meet me there. Arlene, girls, I'll meet you in the car in a few minutes."
I didn't look back as I walked outside and then over to the bank. At the bank I was ushered back to John Dunlop's office almost as soon as I came in, and he greeted me by getting to his feet, while holding out his hand.
"Thank you for catching that little sap for us. I understand from one of the arresting officers that he's already slipped up and has given them some names in relation to another investigation that involves your deceased wife. However I've set out to see that what he's done here is rectified. Just in the short while that you've been gone, we have the authorisation from our head office to reimburse you for all of the losses he was responsible for causing."
"Oh, thank you for that," I sighed in relief. "That is good news."
"Well, it won't be a total reimbursement. We will only cover those withdrawals if we find that Wilks allowed her to gain access illegally. I'm afraid that we won't be able to reimburse you for the funds that she removed from those accounts to which she had legal access."
"I wouldn't have expected you to do that, but she and Wilks forged my signatures to several accounts without my authority, so those are the most important and most damaging actions. I realise there's little or nothing you can do about withdrawals from accounts that she had my permission to access."
"You're going to simply accept that loss?" he said in surprise.
"I think I have to," I shrugged. "Let's just say that I backed the wrong horse. The important thing is that she didn't take my daughter from me or do her any harm. I can earn more money, but I can't replace Shannon."
"I have to say that your heart is certainly in the right place. If you do need financial assistance in any way at all, you just have to call, okay?"
"Thank you. What I could use inside of a few days is a complete statement concerning the standing of all of my accounts and an audit of what's happened to them over the past year or two. How does that suit you?"
"I could probably have it for you by tomorrow morning if you need it that soon."
"Oh no, don't rush that fast, you might miss something if your people need to hurry. Monday will be soon enough, say noon or thereabout?"
"It will be right here on my desk. And once more, thank you for your help and for your understanding when it counted," he stood and insisted on shaking my hand again. "Having seen that tackle, I know how you got the nickname, 'Avalanche' when you were playing football."
"Huh, never did like that nickname, so please don't mention it again. I'll see you Monday," I managed to get away before he started reminiscing about my football days.
I was met with polite smiles from several members of the bank staff as I left and I realised that most of the people there probably hadn't liked Wilks. Then when I got to the parking lot, Arlene and the girls were waiting for me in the car.
"Daddy, what happened in the bank?" Shannon asked as soon as I got into the car.
"Well, have you been in there lately with your mom?"
"A couple of times, but I just sat and waited while she talked to the assistant manager."
"A guy named Wilks?"
"Yeah, sort of a smarmy guy, tall and skinny, with reddish blond hair, king the colour that looks like it comes from a bottle. Mom liked him, but I thought he was a creep!"
"Well, he was not only a creep, he was a crook as well," I smiled at her in the rear view mirror for a second as I drove out onto the street. "It looks like he and your mother got their heads together and figured out a way to empty a lot of money out of our accounts at the bank."
"How did they do that?"
"Well, your mother did some rather crude forgeries of my signature and Wilks accepted them, then it seems that they decided that they needed to get into our private accounts and they figured out a way to pass forged checks on those too. Luckily everything left a paper trail and the bank is going to reimburse us for the money taken from any accounts that your mother didn't have legal access to."
"So we're not broke?"
"No, Punkin," I chuckled. "We're not broke."
"Something tells me that there is far more to this than you've told us," Arlene said quietly.
Thankfully I didn't have to try to bluff my way around the question I knew was coming. Instead her cell phone rang and interrupted her intent to be inquisitive.
"Hello," she said as she put it to her ear. "Hi Noreen, what's up?"
There was a pause, then she spoke again. "Oh, we're in town today, actually, we're on our way over to Dave's house. Dick Fairchild is meeting us there."
I lost track of her conversation after that because I was paying attention to traffic, but suddenly I realised she was talking to me.
"Dave. Do you think Santos would mind if Noreen joined us for lunch?"
"Are you kidding? The way he likes you and as much like you as she looks? Warn her that she might have to outrun a horny lawyer in a powered wheelchair though."
She looked at me with a grin and passed on my message to Noreen, then broke into laughter.
"She wants to know how good of a lawyer he is? She said if he's good enough, she won't wear track shoes."
"Tell her to wear high heals," Shannon shouted loudly from the back seat. "Uncle Santos is the best lawyer on the Island and probably the wealthiest one too."
I just looked at Arlene and nodded, which brought a surprised look to her face.
"Did you hear that?" she asked, then broke into laughter and turned back to me. "Where are we going for lunch, she wants to meet us there and she wants to dress appropriately,"
"I haven't a clue, but knowing Jaro it'll be fairly fancy and it'll be downtown. Why don't you arrange to call her when we find out, then she can meet us there?"
She talked for a minute or two more, then she hung up and turned to me. "Is he really well off?"
"Yeah, his dad made a good living running a junk yard until shortly before he died in an accident. His mom was quite ill and only lived about six months after that. Then Jaro was faced with having to dispose of a junk yard, but it turned out to be property that would make a perfect commercial park. He sold all the junk to a scrap metal dealer and had the place buldozed flat, then he had power, water and sewer service run in. After that he leased a large portion of the land to an international conglomerate, but he kept title the property and built a shopping mall there as well, so he leases space to various firms. He's worth quite a bit just from that and a few other chunks of real-estate he owns."
"Well, why does he keep that grungy, little law office he has?"
"Because it's what he wants to do," I laughed. "This way he can take on interesting cases and help out his friends when they need it."
"It's like a hobby to him then?"
"No, I guess renting out the space at his commercial property probably would be called his main business because it makes him the most money, but being a lawyer is what he loves to do. I suppose it's his avocation, but it's not just a hobby to him. I don't know how to explain it," I sighed. "Maybe you should ask him at lunch. Here's our corner anyway."
As we turned the corner and looked down the street, I was astonished. There were no cars or trucks near our house, only Dick's car parked out front and my car parked in the driveway. Even the big dumpster that had been in the driveway was gone.
Dick was sitting on the front step as I drove up and parked.
"What happened?" I asked as I got out of the car. "Where are all the workmen?"
"Well in the first place, they weren't supposed to be here today," Dick barked. "This is the site of a crime and they crossed the police tape to get access. I kicked them all out early this morning before they did any further damage to the crime scene. Actually, I was still clearing them out when all the damn media showed up."
"Oh," I grinned. "I see you've been having a great day."
"You're bloody chipper," he growled. "Just what the hell has put you in such a good mood?"
"Well, the cops and a lawyer friend of mine have finally got the media off my ass, so I can breath freely. My former wife did a number on me at the bank, but she had help. However, we caught the bastard that helped her and he's been charged by the bank and the cops have taken him off to jail. The bank has said they will make restitution for his criminal activities while he was at the bank. Right now I'm here with my daughter to see if I can help a member of the police force to find the reason for a break-in that mystifies all of us. How's that for a full explanation of my morning?" I grinned at him.
"Was that the crook you were sitting on at the back door of the bank?" he asked.
"Nope, I never sat on him. I was sitting beside him for a while though. The guy who was holding him down by kneeling on his back was a bank guard of some sort," I winked at Dick.
"Okay, but you're the guy who tackled him and took him down?"
"I'll admit that I tackled him, but he fell down on his own. I didn't have much to do with that. I let gravity take over at that point, but I'll admit I wasn't touching the ground when he fell. Instead I was sort of hanging on for the ride, so he might have landed a bit heavily and he might have had the wind knocked out of him about then."
Both Shannon and Cindy were giggling and even Arlene was trying to hide a grin by that point.
"It's one of those days," Dick said slowly. "I hate days like this. Damn, I hate days like this! On days like this I have to put up with smart ass bastards that know things that I should and they make me wait while they make smart ass comments."
"Dick, are you calling Dave a smart ass?" Arlene grinned.
"Oh no, I wouldn't do that. If I did that, he'd probably get his judge and lawyer friends to throw me in the crowbar hotel and have them destroy the key," he sighed. "I just wish someone would explain what's going on."
"Okay, what happened was that the crook made a mistake and said something that got him into trouble. Then he tried to run for it and I thought he might get away. I was angry and my adrenaline was pumping. So when the bank manager asked me to stop him and I saw a chance to do it without getting hurt, I stopped him from getting away. You saw the rest."
"Did you know that he was wanted in Eastern Canada and three states in the US for bank fraud, but he was working here under an alias. Anyway, there's a reward for his capture."
"No, I didn't. Is that important?"
"Well, the banking industry thinks you deserve the reward."
"I guess I'd better have my lawyer call them and tell them I won't accept it then, shouldn't I?"
"Why not?"
"Because they'd want to publicise it and I don't want the publicity," I said seriously. "I've already explained how I feel about that."
"I give up," he said, shaking his head. "Don't you understand? This is good publicity."
"There is no such animal," I said shortly, pulling out my phone and dialling Jaro's phone number.
"Hello; this is the office of Santos Jarosynski, Attorney at Law. How may I help you?" Jaro's secretary answered for the second time that day.
"Hello Peg, Dave Gamble here, I'd like to speak to Jaro, please."
"Oh hello, Dave. I believe he would like to speak to you as well. One moment please?"
"Hello Dave," Jaro sighed only seconds later. "Are you planning on leaping over any tall buildings or outracing any locomotives later on today? Just so I can be prepared, you know, then I can arrange for the proper permits and things of that sort."
"Oh quit being a dope," I snorted and he chuckled. "I want you to shut down the idea of anyone giving me a reward for capturing that little twit at the bank. See if it can go to a charity instead."
"Since I've known you long enough to have a good idea of how you think, that has already been acted on, my friend. All I have to know from you is the charitable society that you want to donate it to," he chuckled again. "Aren't you glad you have a great lawyer who has your best interests in mind?"
"That depends, I think it would be smart if we discuss the charity situation over lunch and I'll bring you up to date on an idea that I've been thinking about. By the way, where are you taking us for lunch? There are four of us here, but we'll be joined by a gorgeous, single lady as well."
"Oh, is Michelle going to join us?"
"No, but Arlene's sister, Noreen will be there. You should be warned though, Shannon told her about you and I'm supposed to warn you that she wears track shoes. She wears them just to keep away from rich lawyers in fancy powered wheelchairs, the sort who might get ideas about pretty women."
"Oh, well you tell Shannon that I might have to take her off of my Christmas list for doing that," he laughed softly. "However, I can't race around very much on the highly polished floors at the Pagoda Palace, so Arlene's sister will be safe from me."
"That's for one o'clock?"
"One, two, whenever you can get there will do fine. I have a small banquet room reserved for the afternoon and the early evening, just in case we need it for later. Give me a call when you're on the way and I'll head over to meet you there,"
"Okay buddy, see you then," I hung up.
"So you have a lunch appointment at one o'clock?" Dick said, getting to his feet and dusting himself off.
"No, we have a lunch appointment when we get there, anytime after one," I smiled. "Now let's go have a look at this break-in and see how much damage has been done to Shannon's room and the rest of our home."
"How the hell do you do that? I have to make arrangements a week in advance to meet with a lawyer and then it's at his convenience, not mine!" Dick frowned at me.
"Oh, that's easy enough to do. You just live in the same room with a man for four years and make friends with him. We know each other extremely well and we treat each other with a lot of respect, even if it doesn't sound like it at times."
"What Daddy always seems to forget to mention is that Uncle Santos is stuck in a wheelchair, so Daddy often had to help him to get around the university campus and stuff like that," Shannon piped up. "Daddy does that sort of thing all the time and doesn't mention it."
"He's a really nice guy until you cross him, then he makes you wish you'd made a different choice," Arlene added.
"Huh, I've noticed that," Dick grunted. "Anyway, let's check out this place and see what we can make of the break-in. We don't know what might be missing and need some help to have some idea of what to look for. Now I'd best remind you, even though it's your home, it's my crime scene right now, so please don't touch or move anything, alright?"
"Okay, I can live with that, for now." I nodded, then looked at Shannon and she nodded her head.
After that I took a deep breath as Dick unlocked and opened the front door. Then or the first time in years I felt sheer rage as I looked through that open door and saw the mess that Claire has caused. It took only a few seconds for me to settle myself though. I knew that the ruin I was looking at was just possessions and replaceable things. Shannon was still alive and so was I, so Claire hadn't damaged anything that really mattered.
"Are you okay, Daddy?"
"Yeah, the view was a bit of a shock though. When it's torn up like this, the place doesn't look like our home."
"It stinks!"
"Yep, but we don't have to be here long and I'm going to make sure it looks good and smells right before we accept it back from the insurance company," I smiled at her, because she'd managed to defuse my rage with half a dozen words.
So taking her hand in mine, I led my daughter into the muddle that had been our home.