Noah's Law

  4. Do a contents page.

  5. Label the documents.

  6. Put all the documents and the contents page in a folder.

  7. This is the brief that will go to counsel.

  8. Counsel Paul Valopolous is known to hate paperclips so make sure any documents of more than one page are stapled. Also make sure the contents page is in eleven-point Arial. Counsel specifically demands this particular font and will demand we redo the brief if Times New Roman is used.

  9. Call our expert, Mr Carlos Banks, and tell him that he needs to be available to give evidence in the week of 19 January. Tell him that I have written to him with the hearing dates.

  10. Call Bernie and remind him to keep the entire week of 19 January free. SEE ME BEFORE YOU CALL HIM. Tell him that he will need to attend court each day. Also tell him that I have sent him a letter outlining witnesses subpoenaed by the other side. Don’t bother to provide him with a copy of the subpoenas. You will note that they are flagged and MUST go in the brief to counsel. The defendant’s witnesses are:

  • Rodney Marks

  • Harold Webb

  • Claudia Hognio

  What?! Maureen’s sister was a witness. I couldn’t believe it! My tip-off must have worked. The risk had been worth it after all if Humphries was getting Claudia as a witness.

  I leaped out of my chair and went to the bookshelves holding all of the folders to do with Bernie’s matter. Yellow post-it notes sprang out from almost every folder. I grabbed the pleadings folder, remembering that was where Casey filed subpoenas, and rapidly flicked through the pages. Sure enough there were subpoenas to appear served on Webb and Claudia Hognio. I held my breath as I turned the page. Her address was there. What luck!

  The subpoena had been served on her at 123 Rhodes Street, Newtown. I ripped a corner from a piece of paper, wrote it down and slipped the note in my wallet.

  Preparing the brief to counsel looked like the biggest job, so for the rest of the day I photocopied the documents, paginated them with a labelling machine, and arranged them in volumes of folders.

  It was riveting work . . . Trying to match the contents page with the paginated documents. Missing one page so that the entire contents page was thrown out of order. I mean, it was the kind of stuff a teenager dreams of doing on their school holidays. I could only remember one other moment in my life that matched it: the day a nail went through my foot. But you know what? Even partial crucifixion was more bearable.

  I desperately needed a break and went through Casey’s memo again.

  The memo asked me to call Bernie. But the control freak wanted me to talk to her first. So I went to her office. I hesitated at the door. I could hear her talking to somebody on the phone. ‘This is the nature of the work and you knew that . . . I’m good at what I do and you could never handle it . . . Oh for heaven’s sake, why are we even having this argument? We’re long past working things out.’

  I heard her hang up the phone. Well, slam it down, actually. I snuck a peek. She was at her desk, elbows on the table, hands slowly rubbing her temples, her eyes closed. She looked like she needed one of Mum’s herbal teas made from flowers and fertiliser and stuff to relax her.

  I stepped in and she looked up.

  I was used to seeing her in control, full of energy as she dictated memo after memo, stormed about the office issuing commands, barked down the phone at lawyers on the other side of her case. But at that moment she seemed small and tired. When she noticed me hovering at the door she held my gaze for a moment as if she was trying to work out if I’d overheard her conversation, then she sighed and leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling.

  ‘What is it, Noah?’ she asked.

  ‘Your memo says you wanted me to see you before I call Bernie.’

  She looked at me then and, to my surprise, half smiled. ‘Oh yes, I thought I better give you a lecture before I put you in contact with him again.’

  She paused and I stared at her, not responding, waiting for the inevitable.

  ‘Actually . . . I’m tired, Noah.’ She drummed her fingers on the table. ‘I tell you what, let’s skip the lecture and get to the last bit: when you call him, try and contain yourself and don’t mention anything that even smells remotely like a conspiracy theory. Just advise him of the hearing dates, his need to be here, and the letter on the way in the mail. Can you do that without insinuating that this entire case is riddled with corruption?’

  I couldn’t help but grin. ‘So that was the short version of the lecture? I wonder what the longer version would have been.’

  She cocked an eyebrow. ‘Stick around one more moment and you’ll find out.’

  Bernie picked up almost instantly.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi, Bernie. It’s Noah Nabulsi from Saleh & Co.’

  A pause. Then, in an impatient tone: ‘What the hell do you want?’

  I was going to have to do some grovelling. I needed him on my side. I needed him to trust me again. There was no way I could uncover dirt on him if he had it in for me. ‘Sorry about before,’ I began. ‘You were right. I let my imagination run a bit wild. And I interfered when I shouldn’t have.’

  This was truly painful.

  ‘You’re damn right you did.’

  ‘I, er, just wanted to say sorry. Casey’s punishing me by getting me to help her out with all the photocopying. You know, in preparation for the hearing.’

  ‘Fine. Just don’t meddle again.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Well it’s about bloody time this thing got a move on. If we’re not settling I want my day in court. For Maureen’s sake. To set the record straight.’

  ‘Er . . . yeah, you deserve it. She deserves it. She’s lucky to have you standing up for her.’

  I wanted to spew.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Did you get Casey’s letter?’

  ‘Nah, I haven’t checked the mail.’

  ‘It basically explains who the witnesses are for Jenkins Storage.’

  ‘Oh yeah? And who are they putting on the stand?’

  ‘Webb and somebody called Claudia Hognio.’

  ‘You better be frigging joking, Noah,’ he said in a deadly tone.

  ‘I have the subpoenas here. Um . . . bad news?’

  ‘BAD NEWS?’ he shouted. ‘That Webb bastard is spouting filthy lies. Maureen’s partly to blame,’ he said in a whiny voice. ‘How does he sleep at night?! As for Claudia, she’s a first-class bitch who’s hated me since I married her sister and who will say anything to make sure I don’t get one frigging cent even if it means screwing over her decomposing sister!’

  I drew a sharp breath, choosing my words carefully. ‘What a cow.’

  ‘You’ve never met such a vindictive bloody shrew. She’s been trying to come between me and Maureen for years. She’s bitter ’cause her boyfriend of nine years still hasn’t popped the question. Not even worth a plastic ring.’

  ‘Why do you think the other side is calling her?’

  ‘That is an excellent question. I have no idea. That frigging Rodney Marks talked the talk when it came to settling but he’s got no say. What did I tell you? Insurers. They get hold of a case and it’s all about screwing everyone over.’

  ‘I’m really sorry for you . . . and for Maureen. Well, I better get back to preparing this brief if we’re going to have a shot at winning this for you.’

  ‘Oh, I intend to win,’ he said, his voice low and menacing. ‘I’m not walking out of this a loser. I promise you that.’

  Jacinta was standing at the sink in the office kitchen, draining the oil out of a can of tuna. We were alone. I walked up to her.

  ‘Still mad at me?’ I asked cheerfully.

  ‘Yes,’ she said calmly.

  ‘You know, it takes more muscles to frown than smile.’

  ‘That doesn’t apply to fake smiles.’

  ‘I think I deserve a fake smile, at the very least.’

  She looked up at me and pulled
a face.

  ‘Not even one worthy of a Colgate commercial?’

  She spooned the tuna onto a slice of bread and then shook her head, an exasperated half-smile spreading across her face.

  ‘So, you up for some great news?’

  She fixed her eyes on me. ‘Let’s see. By your standards that might mean hacking into Bernie’s email? Stealing his tax file number?’

  ‘Good suggestions but the answer is no.’ I leaned closer towards her and whispered: ‘Maureen’s sister has been subpoenaed by the defendant.’

  For a moment, her face tensed. Then she shrugged her shoulders. ‘So what?’

  ‘Well, don’t you want to know why she’s giving evidence for the defendant?’

  Of course I already knew why, but I didn’t want to confess to Jacinta that I was kind of behind it all . . . not just yet.

  ‘Bernie hates her,’ I continued. ‘It’s our chance to find out why. Maybe she knows something about Bernie that we don’t. Maybe—’

  ‘Maybe you need to stop hunting for a conspiracy.’

  ‘You sound just like Casey.’

  She frowned. ‘That was low.’

  ‘Well, it’s a pretty slack thing for you to say when you think about everything you know about this case.’

  ‘Everything I legally know says there is nothing to worry about. Everything I illegally know is not my business.’

  ‘Jacinta! That’s crap and you know it.’

  She forcefully cut her sandwich in two. ‘Sometimes justice needs to take a back seat to the rule of law,’ she said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Tell that to Maureen,’ I shot back.

  ‘There are rules—’

  ‘Which sometimes need to be broken so the bad guys don’t get away with it.’

  ‘You can’t seriously believe that, Noah.’

  ‘Look, I’m not a lawyer. If I was, I’d be sticking to the rules and if scum like Bernie got away with their phony cases, fine, those are the breaks.’ I winked. ‘But I’m not a lawyer. Yet. So Bernie’d better watch his back.’

  Before logging off my computer later that day I sent Jacinta an email.

  We’re visiting the sister this Sat. Meet us in front of Hungry Jacks at Central Station at 9.30 am, if you’re interested.

  While I have the freedom to bend the rules, I will. Because somebody should care about the only person who doesn’t have a voice in this.

  ‘. . . And so I looked up the White Pages but Claudia’s got a private number. Nothing. And I’m thinking, man, this is going to be tough. Where to next? So I call the Electoral Commission ’cause I saw this episode of Home and Away once and this guy was trying to find his ex and he was a private investigator and he . . .’

  My eyes scanned the crowd as we waited in front of Hungry Jacks in the large concourse at Central Station. I’d already demolished a Whopper and was chewing on my fries, half listening to Amit. It was nine twenty-six.

  I wondered if Jacinta would turn up. She hadn’t replied to my email.

  ‘. . . but of course you can’t just call the Electoral Commission and get a name and address. There are all these privacy laws, which isn’t a bad thing I guess. One time my mum’s tax return was sent to the wrong address and would you believe that the people there opened it? We knew because . . .’

  And there she was. She walked towards us and I couldn’t help but grin.

  ‘Wipe that smirk off your face,’ she said as she sat down across from us and grabbed a handful of my fries. ‘And what’s with the shirt and tie?’

  My grin widened. ‘I’ll explain later.’

  ‘Fine. But stop gloating.’ She ate a chip, her eyes smiling at me.

  ‘I’m not, I’m not,’ I said, still grinning.

  ‘So what’s your plan?’ Jacinta asked.

  ‘I’m an investigator hired by Jenkins’ insurance company,’ I said.

  ‘Are all three of us investigators?’ Amit said.

  I suddenly realised how stupid an idea it was for the three of us to go to Claudia’s together.

  ‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘We can’t all go. I’ll go alone.’

  Amit said, ‘But if she sees you at the hearing Claudia will figure out that you were impersonating an investigator.’

  ‘I’ll keep out of her way at the hearing.’

  ‘Noah, don’t be ridiculous,’ Jacinta said. ‘I should be the one to go. I’m the oldest.’

  ‘No, I should go,’ Amit said. ‘She might see you at the hearing too.’

  We kept arguing. I managed to convince them in the end. ‘I know the file inside out. I just want to dig up as much info as I can.’

  ‘So why did you bring us along then?’ Jacinta said in an exasperated tone.

  I looked at the table sheepishly. ‘Er . . . support?’

  I made it up to them by promising to shout them lunch.

  ‘Our train leaves in ten minutes,’ I said, glancing up at the board on our left. ‘Let’s talk it through on the train ride.’

  We stood up, collecting our rubbish and dumping it in the nearby bin.

  ‘So what made you decide to come?’ I asked Jacinta as we walked through the turnstiles and down the escalators.

  She shrugged. ‘I guess . . . well I kept thinking of Maureen in that car park. Being killed like that.’ She turned to look me in the eye. ‘You’re right. She doesn’t deserve to be used by Bernie like this. Justice has to mean something.’

  ‘I just hope we can get it for her.’

  ‘Well, let’s find out.’

  Maureen lived a couple of streets away from the main strip of shops and restaurants on King Street. Amit and Jacinta settled down in a café to wait for me. I headed off to Maureen’s house, relying on a printout of directions from the internet.

  It took less than five minutes to find her street. She lived in a small bottle-green terrace. I took a deep breath and walked up the slate pathway that led to a small verandah. The terrace was badly in need of a visit from the team of one of those home renovation shows. The paintwork was cracked; the old black and white marble tiles in the verandah were faded.

  I’d brought along a clipboard and I hoped that this, along with my shirt and tie, would convince Claudia that I belonged to an insurance company instead of a high school.

  I rang the doorbell. A man opened the screen door.

  ‘Hi. Is Claudia Hognio home, please?’

  ‘No.’

  I’d stayed up late thinking about questions to ask her. But I hadn’t even thought that she might not be home. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid.

  ‘Whatever it is you’re selling, we’re not interested, thanks.’ He started to close the door.

  What the heck. I’d give it a go anyway.

  ‘I’m not a salesman,’ I said quickly. ‘My name’s Todd Winston. I’m an investigator for Horizon Insurance. I wanted to speak to Ms Hognio about her brother-in-law.’

  I tried to seem confident but was pretty nervous about stuffing this up.

  He opened the door wider. ‘Speak to her about what?’

  ‘We’re investigating Bernie White. Are you Claudia’s partner?’

  ‘Yeah, I am. What are you investigating?’

  ‘Do you know about Mr White’s case against Mrs White’s employer?’

  ‘Yeah, ’course I do.’

  ‘Well maybe you could help instead? I just have a few questions. It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.’

  He shrugged. ‘Sure.’

  I followed him down a dimly lit hallway into a room with a high ceiling and a fireplace in the corner. The mantelpiece was crowded with framed photos. I noticed one of Maureen, arms linked with another woman, probably Claudia, both smiling at the camera.

  ‘Take a seat,’ the man said, motioning to an armchair near the fireplace. ‘Todd, was it?’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, sitting down. ‘Yeah, Todd Winston.’

  ‘I’m Harry. So how can I help you?’

  ‘As I mentioned, we’re invest
igating Mr White’s case against Jenkins Storage World.’

  Harry rolled his eyes. ‘Just another example of Bernie trying to bleed his wife dry – even when she’s dead. Claudia’s been called to give evidence.’

  I chose my words carefully. ‘Part of the claim is based on Bernie proving that he depended on his wife for money.’

  ‘Well he’ll have no trouble showing that. He had a workplace accident years ago. He always joked that he never wanted to work again and was happy to let Maureen go off to work while he spent his day playing golf or going to the pub. It’s an insult to all those people who are genuinely injured.’

  This was great. Harry was giving me exactly the kind of insider information I’d been hoping for.

  ‘He also needs to show that he’s worse off now,’ I explained, ‘since she died. If he’s seeing somebody else, for example, then we can cut down his payout. We suspect he’s got a girlfriend.’

  Harry laughed bitterly. ‘He’s been having an affair for almost two years. Since a year before Maureen died.’

  I was shocked. ‘Did Maureen know?’

  ‘Of course she knew. She caught them. Maureen threatened to leave Bernie if he didn’t end it. What a jerk. He sure had it good with her. She paid for everything while he was rorting the workers’ comp insurer, and then he goes and cheats on her.’

  ‘What do you mean he was rorting workers’ comp?’

  ‘He was getting his workers’ comp payments. But we reckon he was getting more than he was owed because he claimed he paid the mortgage and all the bills when really he didn’t pay a thing. Plus he was saying the pain in his back from the workplace accident was getting worse. He had some dodgy doctor who believed him.’

  ‘But why did Maureen put up with it?’

  He shrugged. ‘It annoyed Claudia. She tried to get Maureen to see reason. But until Maureen found out about the affair, she refused to believe anything except that Bernie was genuinely affected by the accident and that he loved her.’

  ‘And then she found out about the affair?’

  ‘Yes.’ Harry leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. ‘At first she was in denial. Eventually she came to her senses and gave him an ultimatum. Bernie promised her he’d stop seeing Annie, but it was all bull. He kept seeing her.