Writ of Execution Read online

  “I told you you’d love it.”

  “Maybe.” Nina had the phone crooked between chin and neck, and she was finally pulling on her coat, which Paul had just handed her, looking away.

  “So what should I tell her?”

  “Tell her fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll come,” Sandy said. Now Nina recollected one reason why she didn’t fire Sandy, in spite of her obstreperousness. Sandy was devoted in her way.

  “Thanks, but don’t worry about it. It’s a long drive for you, and it’s late. I’ll bring Paul. If there’s paperwork, I’ll rev up the computer myself.”

  “You sure? If you want I’ll call Bob and tell him where to call in the next hour.”

  “Do that. I’ll be all right. Bye.” Nina hung up. “I’d really like another shot of whiskey,” she said. “And I really would like a shot of you. But I have to go.”

  Paul stuck his keys in his pocket. “Not without me. Let’s get it over with, then,” he said. “Just remember not to take off the coat.”

  Nina laughed. “I brought clothes. They’re out in the car. I took them off before I came in. Because—you know—I couldn’t leave home like that. What if I had an accident on the way?”

  “Very sensible.” He took her in his arms. “Very sensual.”

  “I’ll have to go home afterwards. I guess I should take the Bronco, since the office is on the way.”

  “You’re not coming back?” He let go of her.

  “I only gave myself until one A.M. Bob’s home. It’s the first time I’ve left him so late. I’m really sorry, Paul.” She lowered her eyes. She felt ridiculous.

  Paul had the grace to crack a smile. “It was a great performance. I had no idea you’d show up. I thought—never mind what I thought. And then, the coat. I’m gonna have a coat fetish after this.”

  “Something always goes wrong,” Nina said.

  “The lawyer’s creed.”

  She grabbed her purse and Paul followed her out, pulling the door shut with an energy that reminded her of just what she was missing.

  She bumped out of the big parking lot onto the highway. The valets at Caesars were keeping busy in the height of a midsummer rush. As she passed Bill’s, which along with the Lakeside Inn was the locals’ club of choice, she saw two men reel out toward the street from the open entryway, but the Tahoe police had erected a fence so they couldn’t teeter into the traffic.

  As she crossed back over the state line into California, the casinos blinked out and the motels began. The night had cooled. Cold clouds rushed across a windy sky. In the driver’s mirror she saw Paul following in his new shiny red Mustang. She passed the Embassy Suites at Ski Run Boulevard and took the curve where the lake can finally be seen from the road and the forest comes up on the other side and the businesses regress to frankly funky.

  She looked for it. She always looked for it. But Lake Tahoe was just an enormous lightless pull of gravity on her right, lacking enough moon to dent the water with its reflection.

  A couple of miles farther she pulled into her own parking lot next to the Starlake Building, Paul right on her rear . . . if only . . . and only one car sitting right in the middle of the lot, an old Honda Civic with the salt rust along its flanks that made it a local car. As she swung down from the Bronco, wishing for the thousandth time that she was taller, the Civic disgorged a man and a woman. Paul came up, and they all shook hands.

  “The witching hour,” the girl said, not smiling. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

  “Let’s go in.” Nina unlocked the main door and they traipsed down the darkened hall to her office by the stairs. She opened up and turned on the lights. Paul pulled in an extra chair from the reception area as they passed through, and they all sat down in Nina’s office, Nina behind her desk. She switched on her desk lamp but it didn’t do much to dispel the third-degree atmosphere of bright overhead fluorescents in dark night.

  “Make yourselves at home,” she said. “I’ll get some coffee.” She went into the law library, which was also the conference room, pulled the French roast out of the bar refrigerator she kept in there, and got the espresso maker going. She could hear Paul making small talk in her office as she pulled out the mugs and poured the milk into the foamer. She pumped up a lot of aerated milk, poured it into the thick brown liquid in the cups, and went into her office with the tray.

  She would classify this wiry girl as Native American. In her early twenties, she had short black hair cut with long straight bangs and a sculpted face with exceptionally big, long-lashed, watchful eyes. She sat up straight and still, hands on her knees, cowboy boots firmly planted on the floor.

  Her companion, lagging behind, even sitting slightly behind her as if wondering what he was doing there, didn’t fit with her. He was shorter, a rather round young man with gold-rimmed glasses and pointed tufted eyebrows. A mop of coarse black hair spiked to one side, like hair blown by severe wind and frozen in place. He wore a disheveled but expensive silk sport coat, his tie pulled loose. An office worker, Nina decided, his glossy eyes showing that he’d had a few too many.

  The next thing Nina noticed was how close to the edge the girl was. She appeared to be hyperventilating. Her face, which should have been a soft brown, had faded to putty. Her eyes had a stricken look.

  Neither of the two visitors paid any attention to the surroundings, which was a shame, because the office was finally starting to look good. The healthy fiddle-leaf fig in the corner scraped the ceiling, the certificates sported new matching frames, and a Francis Picabia print hung on the wall. Modest, orderly, upstanding, reflecting, Nina hoped, that a respectable lawyer practiced therein.

  Maybe a room at the Mustang Ranch would have caught their attention. This room didn’t.

  Paul sat near the window with its white blinds, surveying the scene through heavy-lidded eyes. He had forgotten to comb his hair. Nina suddenly wondered if she’d gotten her clothes on right side out in the dark, and looked down. The buttons on her red cardigan were duly buttoned.

  “They’re waiting for me,” the girl said in a rush. “At Prize’s. I won, and then it got really insane. They took us into an office and a man, he said he was the vice president for operations, said we would wait for the—the—I can’t remember—”

  “The Global Gaming representative and the IRS officer in charge of gaming taxation in this region,” said the young man.

  “And you are?” Nina said.

  “Ken Leung. You can call me Kenny.” His voice was soft.

  Paul interrupted, “I note that you’re carrying a concealed weapon. Are you licensed?” All eyes turned to Kenny Leung’s right hand, which had jumped to an area of his jacket near the left armpit.

  “Oh, that,” Leung said. “It’s not loaded.”

  “That’s good. But we do have a policy—no guns in the law office. Okay? You can set it outside on the secretary’s desk.” The young man got up without a word and went out the door, leaving Paul sitting up, vigilant. A second later he reappeared, opening his coat so they all could see the gun was gone.

  “It’s not anything bad,” Leung said. Paul went back into his slouch but his eyes remained on patrol. The girl’s mouth had firmed while she watched Leung take his seat. She rubbed her forehead.

  “Just my luck,” she muttered.

  “You’re all getting the wrong idea,” Leung said. “I’m a businessman. Look. I have business cards. Embossed and everything.” He opened a soft leather wallet and pulled out several. Paul examined each one carefully.

  “So let’s get back to the situation which has us sitting here at midnight,” Nina said to the girl. “I understand that you won a jackpot.”

  “On the Greed Machine. A progressive slot machine. I never heard of it before. I just played some dollars. I had been there less than five minutes.”

  “More like three,” Leung said.

  “With him yakking nonstop the whole time,” the girl said. “I had about twenty dollars left when the banks li
ned up. I was just about to leave. I was actually getting off the stool when I saw them stop—kachung kachung kachung—in a perfect row. I didn’t know what it meant. But then the bell went nuts. Everything went nuts.”

  “Seven million, seven hundred sixty-seven thousand, three hundred thirty-nine dollars and sixty-four cents,” Leung said, and he wasn’t consulting any notes.

  Silence rang like bells in the small room. What a stunning amount of money. Nina thought, This can’t be true. People actually won that kind of money on slots? The girl, hand pressed to her jaw, appeared thunderstruck, but Leung recited the amount calmly.

  Of course, he wasn’t the winner.

  “I can’t believe this!” the girl said to Kenny. “Did it really happen?” She combed a hand through her hair. “Why me? I can’t even imagine—what if it’s really true?”

  “Might as well be struck by lightning,” Nina said.

  “I—I just don’t believe it’s true,” the girl went on. “How can I jump up and down? People like me don’t have this kind of luck.”

  Paul said to the girl, “That’s a lot of silver dollars. It is going to change your life. Unless you’re already rich?”

  She answered him with a short laugh. “I have two hundred sixty dollars left in my checking account. I’m staying with my aunt because I can’t afford my own place. I need to buy food. I need to pitch in on the rent. I’ve got a part-time job that pays peanuts, no future at all that I could see, in fact, until just this moment.”

  “Why were you gambling?” Paul asked. “I mean, you say you were practically broke.”

  All three of the other people in the room stared at him.

  “Okay, dumb question.”

  “There actually was a reason,” she said. “I thought someone might be following me. I ducked into the casino to hide. I wasn’t planning to stay long. You know, it does bring up another question, though. Why did I throw my money away down that machine? And the answer is—because there’s something so hopeful about gambling, showing you have . . . faith in the future.”

  “Or just believe in good luck or a benign universe,” Kenny said. “Not that I actually do.”

  “It’s a dream, one of those dreams that come around sometimes where you live out your wishes. I just don’t want to give my name and I don’t want anyone to know about this.”

  “I’m sure the casino will demand a photograph and a name,” Nina said.

  “They took a picture already, which I ducked. I don’t think they got much,” the girl said.

  “You didn’t give them your name?” Nina asked.

  The girl looked embarrassed, then evasive. “I’m afraid I won’t get the money after all, but I do need it. I need it! So I thought a lawyer could think of something and I called Sandy”— Nina noted this use of Sandy’s first name—“and she said she’d call you. I know it was lousy timing.”

  “The way it was described to me, I wouldn’t have missed coming here for anything,” Nina said. “I’m not going to insist that you tell me your identity right now. It’s plain that you have some reason you don’t want it known, and there’s no confidentiality privilege at this moment because Paul and Mr. Leung are here also. You understand that? We can talk alone in a few minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  “What happened when you refused to give your name?”

  “They said, ‘You have to.’ This was while we were still on the casino floor. I couldn’t answer. But then I got an idea.”

  “She told them to call her Mrs. Leung,” Leung said, leaning forward. “She used my name.”

  “Are you married to Mr. Leung?” Nina asked.

  “No, ma’am! I don’t even know him! He was just sitting on the stool next to me jabbering at me and he had told me his name and that he didn’t have any money. I didn’t know what to do. They were pressing me and pressing me. So I thought, Well, I’ll pay him to use his name.”

  “You have agreed to pay Mr. Leung—Kenny—some money?”

  “A million dollars,” the girl said.

  5

  “STOP RIGHT THERE,” Nina said. She looked at Kenny Leung. He was trying to look nonchalant.

  “Here’s my plan,” the girl said. “We go back to the casino. I say I can’t find my ID, that I don’t have my driver’s license because my husband drove us up here from the Bay Area. And I’ll tell them to cut the check in my husband’s name. We’ll use his Social Security number since you need one.

  “But then I have to be protected since it’s not my name on the check. Kenny has to sign a paper that says the jackpot isn’t really his. And we need an agreement between us that he will be paid when I get my check. That’s where you come in.”

  Nina said, “That’s your plan?”

  “Right.”

  “Some plan,” Paul said.

  “And what do you think about this, Mr. Leung?” Nina asked.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It was her idea. I’m helping her. It’s fair compensation for losing my virginity,” Leung said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “That’s a joke.”

  “You’re not even close to losing your virginity, trust me,” the girl said.

  “Well, anyway, it’s only about twelve point eight percent of the winnings. That’s a fair percentage, if she can’t collect without me. Besides, why not? One final futile gesture in the face of an indifferent universe. Indifferent to me, anyway.”

  He was waving his arms and blinking rapidly as he spoke, and he looked more and more like a Dilbert who had escaped his cubicle, not the type to rush into a wild scheme like this so enthusiastically. How drunk was he? And what was he doing with a gun? Still, for that amount of money, anybody would feel adventurous.

  “And you think I can write up an agreement tonight between you and Kenny that will ensure that Kenny turns that money over to you when the check clears?” Nina asked the girl.

  “What do you mean, when the check clears?”

  “Well,” Nina said, “the bank is going to want a week to ten days to process it. Minimum. I’m talking about the first check. It’ll be paid in installments over twenty years. I have no idea how much the initial payout will be. But it certainly will be a week or two before you have any cash in hand.”

  “No,” the girl said. She looked over at Kenny Leung, who nodded. “The casino said that they were having a special promotion on the Greed Machines and the jackpot was an instant payout.”

  “That’s right,” Kenny said. “They said it would all be paid tonight, if we make it back there to collect it, that is.”

  A silence fell over them. Nina was having trouble imagining a seven-million-dollar check. “That’s very unusual,” she said at last. “But you’re still going to be signing at least one document under penalty of perjury that certifies that you’re married and that this is your name. Giving a false name will certainly be looked at as some sort of attempt to avoid paying taxes.”

  “You’re saying there’s nothing I can do?” She sagged back into her chair, overwhelmed with disappointment.

  “I’m not saying that. Don’t tell me your name and please don’t tell me if you’re wanted for a crime. But I need a general overview. Why can’t you give your name?”

  “Publicity.”

  Nina nodded. “Someone will know you won?” “Someone will be able to find me. He’ll find me, and then . . .” Her voice had risen.

  “And then what?”

  “He’ll come after me. Maybe kill me.”

  “Is this the man you thought you saw following you?” Paul asked.

  She nodded. “No one should know I’m here or who I am. I don’t have anywhere else I can run. I’ve been safe here, but now—unless I can think of something—can’t you help me? Can’t anybody help me? There must be a way.” She rocked the chair closer to Nina’s desk and leaned forward. “I didn’t have the money two hours ago—I should just leave, but—but—I need it, you understand? I have to take the risk, I need that money! I had no life before, just fear.” />
  They sat around and thought.

  “Why can’t it just be simple?” the girl said, calming down. “Why are there always strings? Why can’t it be—”

  “Unalloyed,” Kenny Leung said, eyebrows drawn together as if he were reevaluating the adventure. Some of the strings on the money were starting to look more like steel cables.

  Nina checked her watch. She felt a headache leaking from the left side of her head to the right. She was not at her sharpest after midnight. “Is this someone you are afraid of connected with law enforcement?” she asked.

  “Oh, no.”

  “Someone’s trying to kill you. That’s what you said, right?”

  “He wants to take me down. But he’s not going to. If I have to kill him first, I will. I’m trained in weaponry and self-defense. It has to stop here.” She squared her jaw. Nina suspected that a buff physique was in hiding underneath the jeans and sweater.

  “I see.” Nina gave Paul a sideways glance. He didn’t look like he had any bright ideas, and he didn’t look happy.

  “You think I’m crazy or paranoid,” the girl said. “I’m not.”

  “Then your safety has to come first,” Nina said.

  Paul jumped in. “Then this is really your lucky day. I have quite a bit of security experience, up to and including securing the safety of a United States senator. I’ll go with you and stay with you until other arrangements can be made. You won’t be harmed. You won’t have to defend yourself.”

  The girl said, “You have to accept that if he finds out where I am, there will be nothing anyone can do to stop him.”

  “Your name’s going to be splattered across the pages of newspapers all over the U.S.,” Paul said, “whether you like it or not. This is not like the lottery, where you have some control, at least right at first.”

  Nina said, “If you do claim the jackpot, the casino may require you to sign paperwork agreeing to have your name and picture used for publicity purposes. Do you have a restraining order against this man that is after you? You’ve tried to stop him? There is a strong stalking statute in this state.”