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Sparring Partners(107)

Author:John Grisham

(47)

Later that morning, Diantha sent an encrypted email to the associates and all other employees of the firm. She explained that the actions of the State Bar in freezing the licenses of Kirk and Rusty gave the firm no choice but to remain closed for an indefinite period. She was optimistic that business “might” resume after the new year. She cautioned that the situation was fluid and nothing was certain. Signing off, she wrote: “In spite of it all, I wish you Happy Holidays. Diantha Bradshaw, Managing Partner.”

They had always known her as the managing director. Did this signify that she was the sole remaining owner of the firm?

At 2:00 p.m. Friday afternoon, she met Stuart Broome in the lobby of the Robert A. Young Federal Building downtown. He seemed older than ever and was walking with a cane. They rode the elevator to the offices of the IRS and were shown to a small conference room. The appointment with Ms. Mozeby, the field director for the state, was for 2:15. She arrived five minutes late and brought two flunkies with her. No one offered coffee.

In securing the meeting, Diantha had been forced to slog her way through several layers of bureaucracy until she found someone who understood the gravity of the situation. That person, name now forgotten, had successfully lobbied Ms. Mozeby to grant an audience. To expedite matters, Diantha had emailed a secure document, two pages in length, outlining the issues. At least they would not start from scratch, and some of the shock would be negated.

Diantha set the tone by beginning with “I’d like to offer you a copy of an immunity agreement signed by the U.S. Attorney for the Eastern District. It covers both myself and Mr. Broome here.”

“I’ve spoken to Mr. Houston Doyle and am aware of the agreement,” Ms. Mozeby said coldly, officially.

Diantha nodded and continued, “The tax evasion involved here is ongoing and we, on behalf of the law firm, want to address it, file amended returns, and pay what is owed.”

“How much has Bolton Malloy received in fees from the tobacco settlement?”

“Fifteen million. Three million a year for the past five years.”

Ms. Mozeby was impressed and glanced at the flunky to her right. She asked, “And how much has he declared in income?”

Diantha looked at Old Stu who said, “We’ve run about ten percent of it through the firm. The rest has been kept off the books and hidden in tax havens around the world.”

“And who knows where it’s hidden?”

“I do. I put it there, at the direction of my employer, Bolton Malloy. He wanted a fairly aggressive evasion scheme.”

“And how long will the fees continue?”

Diantha said, “Based on an estimated annual return of four percent, the income stream should last for at least eleven more years.”

“And where will these payments go?”

“To the law firm that earned the fees, Malloy & Malloy. Once the current mess is cleaned up, we will declare all income and play it straight.”

“Okay, but the law firm appears to have some rather significant problems right now, if you don’t mind my saying so. I just read the newspapers. Is it fair to ask how long the firm will survive?”

“Fair enough. I can assure you the firm will survive until all of the tobacco money has been received.”

“Eleven years?”

“Eleven, twelve, thirteen. Doesn’t matter.”

“And you admit that you’ve known about this evasion?”

“I didn’t know the specifics and never saw the money, until this year. I’d like to remind you of the immunity agreement.”

“Got it.” Ms. Mozeby took a deep breath and managed a forced smile. She glanced to her right and her left and said, “Very well. When do we see the records?”

Old Stu held up a thumb drive and said, “They’re all right here. I can go over them with you. Take about an hour.”

“Great. Let’s get to work.”

(48)

The following weeks turned into a nightmare for Diantha. For sixteen hours a day she rarely left the windowless office in the basement of her home. Presiding over the implosion of a sixty-year-old law firm was an impossible task that she was not prepared for. Who was? Where was the handbook on how to handle disgruntled clients, desperate associates, demanding judges, missed deadlines, shrinking fees, cash shortages, unreasonable bankers, frightened secretaries and paralegals, a monstrous social media backlash, the ever-obnoxious press, and lawyers circling like buzzards ready to pounce on the carcass? Amid the chaos, she was constantly distracted by the investigations into the Malloys’ crimes, as well as the IRS probe into Bolton’s tax shenanigans. She stayed at home because she felt safer and did not want to risk being tracked down by Rusty or Kirk, or their lawyers. Both the offices of F. Ray Zalinski and Nick Dalmore desperately wanted to chat with her and resorted to sending investigators to her home. A security guard hired by Jonathan ran them off.