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During the paperwork, Ridley asked Clay, privately, if it might be wise to put the house in her name, for tax reasons. She knew as much about the French and American tax codes as he did about Georgian inheritance laws, if, in fact they had any. Hell no, he said to himself, but to her he said, firmly, “No, that won’t work, for tax reasons.”
She appeared to be wounded, but the pain passed quickly as he assumed ownership. Clay went to a bank in Gustavia, alone, wired the money from an offshore account. When he met with the property attorney, he did so without Ridley.
“I’d like to stay for a while,” she said as they spent another long afternoon on the porch. He was pla
Why not? Clay thought. Now that I own the damned place, might as well use it.
He returned to D.C. by himself, and for the first time in several weeks enjoyed the solitude of his Georgetown home.
For several days Joel Ha
But Babcock, the attorney for their insurance company, insisted on being present. His client was on the front line for $5 million, and if he wanted to be present, then Joel couldn’t stop him.
Together they walked into the building on Co
An awkward minute passed as Mr. JCC kept everyone waiting. Finally, he entered in a rush, jacket off, talking to a secretary over his shoulder, a very busy man. He went straight to Joel Ha
Joel Ha
Babcock had the same thought, but he added to it the gossip that the kid had never tried a civil lawsuit. He’d spent five years with the crackheads in criminal court, but he’d never asked a jury for a nickel. Through all the posturing, Babcock saw signs of nervousness.
“You said you had a plan,” Mr. JCC began. “Let’s hear it.”
The survival scheme was quite simple. The company was willing to admit, for purposes of this meeting only, that it had manufactured a bad batch of Portland masonry cement, and that because of this, X number of new homes in the Baltimore area would have to be re-bricked. A payment fund was needed to compensate the homeowner, while not choking the company to death. As simple as the plan was, it took Joel half an hour to present it.
Babcock spoke on behalf of the insurance company. He admitted there was $5 million in coverage, something he rarely disclosed this early in a lawsuit. His client and the Ha
Joel Ha
“Do you have an accurate count of the number of homes here?” JCC asked, and every one of his minions wrote this down.
“Nine hundred and twenty-two,” Joel said. “We’ve gone to the wholesalers, then to the contractors, then to the masonry subs. I think that’s an accurate number, but it could be off by five percent.”
JCC was scribbling. When he stopped, he said, “So if we assume a cost of twenty-five thousand dollars to adequately compensate each client, we’re looking at about just over twenty-three million dollars.”
“We are quite certain that it will not cost twenty thousand to fix each house,” Joel said.
JCC was handed a document by an assistant. “We have statements from four masonry subs in the Howard County area. Each of the four has been on site to see the damage. Each has submitted an estimate. The lowest is eighteen-nine, the highest is twenty-one-five. The average of the four is twenty thousand bucks.”
“I’d like to see those estimates,” Joel said.
“Maybe later. Plus, there are other damages. These homeowners are entitled to compensation for their frustration, embarrassment, loss of enjoyment, and emotional distress. One of our clients is suffering from severe headaches over this. Another lost a profitable sale on his home because the bricks were falling off.”
“We have estimates in the twelve-thousand-dollar range,” Joel said.
“We’re not going to settle these cases for twelve thousand dollars,” JCC said, and every head shook on the other side.
Fifteen thousand dollars was a fair compromise and would get new bricks on every house. But such a settlement left only nine thousand dollars for the client after JCC lopped his one-third off the top. Ten thousand dollars would get the old bricks off, the new ones on the premises, but it wouldn’t pay the brickmasons to finish the job. Ten thousand dollars would only make matters worse—the home stripped to the Sheetrock, the front yard a muddy mess, flats of new bricks in the driveway but no one to lay them.
Nine hundred twenty-two cases, at $5,000 each—$4.6 million in fees. JCC did the math quickly, amazed at how adept he’d become at stringing together zeroes. Ninety percent would be his; he had to share some with a few lawyers who were latecomers to the action. Not a bad fee. It would cover the cost of the new villa on St. Barth, where Ridley was still hiding with no interest in coming home, and after taxes there would be little left.
At $15,000 per claim, Ha
The issue would boil down to how much Mr. JCC wanted for his efforts. He could broker a fair settlement, perhaps reduce his percentage, still make several million, protect his clients, allow a fine old company to survive, and call it a victory.
Or, he could take the hard line and everybody would suffer.