CHAPTER 24
THE MESSAGE
It was mid morning and I was on the phone with an attorney in the consumer fraud division of the Texas Attorney General’s office. I had contacted them to see if they were aware of any insurance scams similar to the one perpetrated on Paula. She told me she had researched their records but hadn’t found anything remotely like it. I thanked her and hung up, and had started going through the mail when I noticed a certified letter from Manuel Ortega, Attorney at Law, addressed to Paula. I didn’t recognize the name so I opened it immediately. After the usual introductions the letter got right to the point.
We have been retained to prosecute a claim on behalf of Maria Cabrillo for the injuries she sustained on August 18, 1986 on account of your ordinary and gross negligence. . . . Our client has sustained damages including past and future medical expenses, lost wages, pain and suffering, permanent impairment to her hip and legs, and loss of consortium in the amount of $1.2 million. . . . Please forward this letter to all of your insurance carriers and ask them to contact this office immediately.
This letter didn’t surprise me, but the size of the demand did. The last time I had checked with the hospital, it didn’t seem that Miss Cabrillo’s injuries were that serious. I called the State Bar to see if there were any active complaints against Manuel Ortega, but there were none. Then I looked in the Yellow Pages to see if Manuel Ortega had a big personal injury add—he didn’t. He wasn’t even listed. The address on the envelope was a legal office suite near Preston Center. I had been there before for depositions. Any lawyer could rent space on a monthly basis and use the facilities and staff on a fee basis. It was a great way for a new lawyer to get started or a transient lawyer to set up shop.
What is going on here? It occurred to me that I needed to hire an investigator to follow Ms. Cabrillo and videotape her for a few days. I had to know the true extent of her injuries. If this was a scam, then her injuries wouldn’t be significant and the investigator would get some good evidence to prove it. The claim, however, complicated matters. Now we had to contact Paula’s auto and home owner’s insurance carriers and they might want to take over the claim. Insurance carriers often offered money even if the claim was bogus just to get rid of it at an acceptable cost. We couldn’t let them settle this case, however, since it might impact her criminal case. We had to prove the entire claim was a scam. As I was continuing my contemplation of the case, Jodie indicated I had an emergency telephone call. It was Julie, Monty’s secretary.
“Stan, Monty’s been stabbed. He’s having emergency surgery as we speak.”
“What! . . . What happened?”
“He was questioning joggers over near Paula’s place and one of them knifed him. They took him to Parkland. I just got here. They say he’s in critical condition.”
“Oh, my God! I’m on my way.”
I felt sick as I rushed to my car. I should have never let Monty question those joggers alone. The image of the car slowly passing us the day before went through my mind. That was a warning and I totally ignored it. I realized Monty might die because I was sloppy. I wondered how anyone could have gotten the drop on Monty. He was a professional and it wouldn’t have been easy to catch him off guard. When I got to the hospital, the press was already there. A crowd of them were waiting by the front door. I had no choice but go straight through them. Cameras flashed as I elbowed my way into the hospital. I rushed to the information desk and asked where they had Monty. They directed me to the ICU waiting room. Julie and Paula were already there. I rushed over to them.
“Hey. Any word yet?” I asked.
“No, he’s still in surgery,” Paula replied,
I shook my head. “This is all my fault. I should have gone with him to question the joggers.”
“Do you think his stabbing had something to do with my case?” Paula asked.
“Yeah, I do. This is the gang’s doing,” I said.
“Why is the gang after me? What did I do to them?” Paula asked.
“Did you ever prosecute a gang member?” I asked.
“I don’t’ know. I might have. I can’t think right now.”
“It could be a gang member you put away who is out now and trying to get even. You should have Bart check it out. If we could get a name, it would make it a lot easier to figure this thing out.”
“Okay, I’ll ask him to look into it.”
We sat in the waiting room for several hours before a doctor came in and told us Monty was out of surgery and in recovery. They said he would be moved to the ICU soon. When we asked him if he was going to be okay the doctor shrugged. He said the knife had ruptured Monty’s kidney and he lost a lot of blood before the paramedics got to him. They had to remove the kidney and they were worried about possible brain damage due to a lack of oxygen getting to the brain. We all stayed until nearly six o’clock and then decided to do shifts. Julie would stay until nine. Paula would come back at nine o'clock and stay until midnight. Then I’d come at 7:00 a.m. and stay until 10:00 a.m. when Julie would return. Paula and I said goodbye to Julie and we went home.
It was nearly seven o’clock when I drove into my driveway. I pushed the button on the garage door opener and then stopped it. There was graffiti all over the garage door. Someone had used spray paint to make some kind of symbol. I got out of the car and walked around the front of the house. The front door had a smaller but similar design painted on it. Who would do something like this? I unlocked the front door and went inside. Marcia was watching TV.
“Daddy! Daddy!” she said and ran over to me.
Rebekah walked in from the kitchen and asked, “Why did you come in the front door?”
“Some idiot sprayed paint all over our garage and front door.”
“What?” Rebekah said as she rushed outside. She looked at the door and shook her head. “What the—?”
“Did Reggie piss somebody off at school?” I asked.
Rebekah took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know. Let’s ask him.”
We went inside and called Reggie down from upstairs. He yelled and said he was on the phone but would be down in just a minute.
“How’s Monty?” Rebekah asked.
“He’s still in a coma.”
Reggie ran down the stairs and stood before us. By this time the entire family had gathered wondering what was going on. “What?” Reggie asked.
“Someone spray painted our front door and the garage door too. Could it have been any of your friends?”
“What? No way. Let me see,” he said as he went outside with all of us following right behind him.
“Shit! Oh, my God,” Reggie said. “Why did they do this?”
“Who? Why did who do this?” I asked.
“The 18th Street Gang.”
Fear ripped through me as I reeled from Reggie’s revelation. The gang had tried to kill Monty and now they were threatening my family. The message was clear. Stay out of their way or they’d kill me, my family, and anyone else who interfered. I grabbed Rebekah and pulled her close to me. She looked up at me with terror in her eyes.