( 2011) Cry For Justice Read Online Free PDF Page A

me about this woman. Nora’s an oncologist sad stories, terminally ill patients and death are her stock in trade.
    “And you’re telling me this because…?”
    “Well, her daughter, Amy, tells me this man apparently also took her mother for a ride stole everything she owned. Mortgaged her house, cleaned out her bank accounts, investments, and retirement accounts. Everything. She was left destitute and facing eviction. Then, poof, he just vanished. Apparently, it was too much for Mrs. Kelly to bear. She became a recluse. And now this. Isn’t that so terrible?”
    “Sure is,” I said as I took one last gander at the approaching clouds. A sour mood came over me. Our vacation plans were looking less certain by the moment. “How much money are we talking about?”
    “I don’t know. Amy doesn’t really know, either. She and her mom had a very strained relationship and barely spoke, but I’d say it has to be a large sum. Her house in Palm Beach was on a point on the Intracoastal. The property was large, perhaps a couple of acres. I’d say it was worth somewhere north of ten million dollars, maybe more. So however much he stole, it had to be a lot.”
    “And I ask again; why am I hearing about this?”
    “I’d like you to talk to Amy.”
    “Sorry, love. I’ve got enough on my plate right now, and I don’t do that kind of work anymore. She should go to the cops.”
    “She did.”
    “And?”
    “They can’t help. Her mother’s death was ruled a suicide, and the rest of it was all perfectly legal.”
    “Did the mother grant power over her affairs?”
    “She did,” Nora hurriedly added. “She was very ill, Jason. MS, also late-stage cancer. She was on powerful painkillers. She signed a power of attorney, put this man in charge of all her affairs. I mean, he really screwed her!”
    I went inside and stood in the elevator lobby. The sheer enormity of all the dumb things people do never ceases to amaze me. People fail to see, not because they’re blind or the other person is a great actor, but because they can’t bear to acknowledge the obvious. So they turn a blind eye to the little telltale signs screaming that not all is as it seems, that if it looks too good to be true, it probably is. There are no victims, just willing participants.
    Nora pressed on. “The thing is, there’s a family heirloom missing apparently, a tapestry that had been in her family for generations.”
    “Let me guess,” I interrupted. “This is all about the sentimental value of a stolen early-seventies macramé, right?”
    A moment of silence, then: “You can be such an ass sometimes.”
    “An endearing quality of mine, as you know.”
    She ignored me.” I’d like you to meet her.”
    “Sorry, can’t,” I replied.
    “Can’t? Or won’t?” Her voice had taken on a certain edge.
    “Okay, whatever: won’t.”
    I juggled with the question: elevator or stairs? If I took the elevator, chances were good that I would lose cell signal, thus ending the conversation. But I knew Nora: she would just call back. May as well tackle this now. “I’m sorry, babe, but this is just not my line of work anymore. You know that.”
    Another long silence.
    “Would you do it as a favor for me?”
    “I’m sorry. I can’t. Not now, anyway.”
    “Why not?”
    “I’ll tell you why: I’m on vacation. No, we meaning you and I are on vacation! Weather or no weather, we’re headed to paradise. You with me so far?”
    “Let me ask you something,” she said. “Up in New York, with the law firm, how lucrative was it to go after these types of cases?”
    “They usually paid off,” I said as I walked across the marbled-floored lobby to the stairs. May as well get some cardio to go with the indigestion. “Look, Nora,” I said in a sharp, clear tone that I hoped would convey that we had reached the end of this conversation. “It’s not as easy as it sounds. Finding those assets is a very long and tedious process, not to mention expensive.