If I Should Die Before I Die Read Free Page A

stiffing their attorneys. I’d have bet the Firm had never once dared bill him for personal services.
    â€œI see you understand the situation,” McClintock said. “But what we do about it is another question.”
    â€œThe strategy, in other words,” I said.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œMr. Camelot tells me you want a settlement. Any settlement will do, you don’t care what it is as long as there is one.”
    â€œI never told him that!” McClintock retorted angrily. “We want a fair and equitable solution. Our position is one of strict neutrality.”
    â€œWhatever,” I said, getting a small pleasure from his reaction. “But some kind of settlement. Only you can’t go directly to either side, because whichever one you go to will think the others put you up to it. Actually, Mr. Camelot says you already know of a proposition the family’s ready to accept.”
    â€œ Some of the family,” McClintock corrected. “And it’s a range, not a proposition. Did he tell you what it is?”
    â€œIn substance, yes. Mrs. Magister gets to keep all her personal property. She gives up her shares in the companies. She’s guaranteed no less than a million dollars a year. For life.”
    â€œAfter tax,” McClintock added.
    And not bad pay, I thought, for three years’ work.
    â€œOnly nobody believes she’ll accept it,” I said.
    â€œWe don’t know that,” McClintock said. “It’s a start, a point of departure for further negotiation.”
    The problem was that nobody was volunteering to take it to Mrs. Magister, not the Firm, not Young Bob’s attorney or any of the others representing the family members.
    And that, the Counselor guessed, was because of Roy Barger.
    McClintock denied this that morning. The Firm wasn’t afraid of Roy Barger. What made everybody cautious was that any offer taken to Mrs. Magister, no matter what restrictions were put on it, was going to be leaked to the media as long as Roy Barger was involved, and once it was known publicly that the children were ready to settle, the psychological tide would start working against them. Roy Barger, at least by reputation, was a master of manipulation.
    Enter Charles Camelot. A like master.
    There was a further problem, though. I knew it; McClintock did too. Before the Counselor could talk settlement with Barger, he needed bargaining chips. Leverage in other words, something that would make Barger think twice before he went the route with the case. As if right then, Barger had nothing to gain by getting his client to settle and nothing to lose by going to trial, which would mean a ton of publicity and a fat fee at the end whether he won or lost. We needed something either on Margie Magister or, less likely, on Barger himself. As of right then we had nothing.
    Which is where I came in.
    A little later, McClintock passed me on to Henry Rand, a tall associate with a prominent Adam’s apple who was in his early thirties and well up the ladder toward success in the Firm. Chances seemed good he’d make it the rest of the way: he’d graduated from the right schools, had the right social connections, and had hitched his career to the right star, meaning Doug McClintock. Meanwhile, while he sweated out his progress toward partner, which would give him a cut in the Firm’s annual profits, he did most of McClintock’s dirty work.
    Hank Rand and I spent much of the day going over the Firm’s files on Margie Magister. We worked in one of the smaller conference rooms, allegedly so that we wouldn’t be interrupted but really, I guessed, because Hank’s office was several notches below McClintock’s in size and appointments. Hank’s secretary, an eager damsel with a big polka-dot bow tie, brought us the papers we needed, plus sandwiches and coffee, plus a Perrier for Hank and a beer for me.
    As executors, the Firm had at least formal