The Wages of Sin Is -----

By James Beeson

A marginally successful attorney is found shot to death in his office.
Why?
Was it incompetence?
Insurance?
Infidelity?
Or pornography?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499055719

James Beeson

Dr. Beeson was born in 1926, the son of an Indiana farmer. He skipped the 12th. grade, was accepted in to the Navy College Training Program, and sent to Notre Dame University. He graduated from Indiana Medical School at 22. He is a board certified anesthesiologist who practiced his profession for 42 years in Jacksonville, FL. He was a caregiver for his beloved wife for six years. He married his late wife's best friend (widow). who was, is and ever will be beloved. He has five children, several stepchildren, grandchildren, step grandchildren, and a growing number of "greats" whom he loves with all his heart. He is chronically happy. How could he be otherwise?

Book preview

Chapter One

Frances (Ballard) Spring and the late Mr. Ballard had belonged to the San Miguel Country Club for a number of years. She had retained membership there after her husband’s passing.

She didn’t play golf or tennis but she did dine there with some frequency and had a coterie of friends with which to socialize.

Dr. Spring had belonged to a country club in Walnut Creek, California and had no trouble starting over in his new wife’s club. Easy going and good natured, he fit in there from the beginning.

Her friends accepted him and were happy to see her enhanced happiness with him. If anyone had an issue with him it didn’t surface.

One evening when the two of them were dining at their Club with another couple, Dr. Spring had an opportunity to be a real hero.

At a table adjacent to theirs were two other couples. One of the men there was a prominent attorney who not infrequently would consume a couple more glasses of wine than his liver could metabolize in the short term. He was a happy inebriate and never caused any trouble – at least before that evening.

Out of the corner of his eye Arthur noticed that the older man in question was visibly squirming in his chair, obviously agitated about something. The something became more apparent when the man abruptly stood up with a startled look on his florid face. He was shaking his arms and his head in a seemingly purposeless fashion.

Arthur had only to ask the man one question to confirm his suspicions. He stood up and went directly to the man and in a loud voice asked him: Can you speak or breathe?! The man violently shook his head in negation.

By this time the man’s florid face had taken on an ashen and cyanotic hue. Arthur wasted no time in stepping behind the man and placing his joined hands just beneath the man’s rib cage. He compressed the man’s upper abdomen with all his might.

The afflicted man gave a gravelly cough and a large piece of steak flew out of his mouth which landed on the floor.

He fell back into his chair and hyperventilated briefly. His face resumed its normal color and the panic had left his eyes. He had the full realization that his life had just been saved.

Feeling better? Arthur asked him.

Weak voice – raspy voice – Yeah – yeah – you – saved – my – life –didn’t you?

Maybe – you might have done alright by yourself. I’d suggest smaller bites of food from now on, With a smile.

Anything you say Doc. I’ll thank you better when I’m sober. I’m not very proud of myself right now.

Don’t be too hard on yourself. Just count it as a learning experience. Arthur said.

The gentleman’s wife came to Arthur and said in a shaken voice: He’d have died without you wouldn’t he?

The important thing is that he’s alright now. He has false teeth, doesn’t he?

What a strange question!

Why yes. She replied.

The two big things that usually lead to this problem are false teeth and too much alcohol.

Avoiding big chunks of everything would be good too."

The man’s wife showed her good judgment by holding off till they were home, her tirade about eating too fast, drinking too much and scaring the hell out of her – and by the way, she still loved him.

Frances was only a few seconds behind Arthur in recognizing the man’s life threatening condition. She tried not to beam too bright a smile which reflected her pride in Arthur’s achievement.

What? Arthur asked after he returned to his seat.

Simply: You’re a real hero, Arthur.

I’m not licensed in Florida so I can’t send them a ginormous bill.

Arthur – no bull – I’m proud of you. I was before.

He just shrugged his shoulders and told the waitress he wouldn’t need that extra glass of wine after all.

Chapter Two

A week after Arthur’s successful Heimlich maneuver almost every Club member had heard of his life saving efforts.

Did you hear? Everybody asked everybody. Usually they had.

The next time Frances and Arthur came to the Club for dinner, it was obvious he was a celebrity. He seemed a little embarrassed by all the attention. Frances thought he deserved all the adulation he was receiving and she quietly basked in it herself.

Chapter Three

The attorney on whom Arthur had performed his little miracle called him the next day.

Dr. Spring – Saul Chance here - I’m the over drinking and under chewing man you saved yesterday.

How are you feeling? Arthur asked.

Strangely different. I think I saw the light at the end of the tunnel and I wasn’t ready to heed it, and thanks to you, I didn’t. Don’t try to minimize what you did. I’m modifying my lifestyle. This won’t happen to me again.

We all do better with an occasional ‘wake up’ call. Arthur said.

Well, I’m fully awake now. I called to thank you and to tell you that I’m a very talented attorney and if you ever have need of one, I would be honored to accommodate you.

Thank you. Right now I’m pretty much on automatic pilot. My first wife died last year but I believe all the legal stuff is taken care of.

I won’t forget you or what you did for me. I’ll be there for you if you ever have need of me.

I’ll certainly remember you too. I’d never had an occasion to employ that maneuver before.

All the more to your credit – did it without practice. Well, see you around, Arthur.

Thanks for calling. Arthur concluded.

He thought he would likely need an attorney at sometime in the future and Frances had attested to his competence and reputation. He’d file that away.

It wouldn’t be too long before that file required opening and all because of a small basal cell carcinoma on his cheek.

Chapter Four

I want more than two hundred dollars for this one. Slim Pickett said to his fence Al Asher.

And why would that be? Al asked.

He’s a doctor and he’s retired. Came here from California. You could run a long time with this one before he tumbled to it. Slim replied.

How old is he? Al asked.

Early seventies. Why does that matter?

Is he healthy? Al persisted.

Hell, I don’t know. So what?

If he’s in bad health we can hold off till he croaks.

He’s recently remarried so he’s probably in good health. With a snarky laugh.

Four hundred and not a penny more. Al told him.

Brief hesitation: Okay. It’s worth more but I like doin’ business with ya.

We do have a nice working relationship don’t we? You’re the identity thief and I’m the entrepreneur.

Both laugh. They didn’t exactly know why.

Chapter Five

Slim brought you another one? Al’s wife Irma asked him.

Yep. Some California doctor that’s just moved here. That contact we have in San Francisco should be far enough away from that Walnut Creek place he came from to let her really fly.

How did Slim get the Social Security number? She asked.

I dunno – maybe off the guy’s Medicare card. Slim works at the hospital.

I thought them hospitals was all in to this privacy thing nowadays.

Amateurs. The doctor also used his credit card there for something or other. Al said.

So, what’s our mark up here? She asked.

Should get a grand easy – maybe two.

None of them merchants in San Francisco will know the doctor. Al decided.

He was correct. But with Dr. Spring’s Social Security and credit card numbers floating around there, they got to know him – or thought they did.

The San Francisco fence used the data to get another credit card in Arthur’s name. They would ride that pony as long as it had legs.

When they bought that new car on the fictional identity the doctor’s impeccable credit rating made it a breeze.

Some two months and three hundred thousand dollars later the stolen identity came to light. Someone had forged Dr. Spring’s name on a prescription for narcotics and the pharmacist happened to have known that the good doctor had retired and moved away.

He declined to honor the prescription and called the authorities. The man with the fraudulent prescription beat a hasty retreat leaving his credit card behind.

Arthur wasn’t hard to find. He’d kept in communication with several friends in California and in short order the authorities were able to track him down and alert him to the identity theft.

Dr. Spring, I’m Lieutenant Eversole with the San Francisco Police Department. We’ve come across a fraudulent credit card that’s in your name. I’d do whatever it takes to protect yourself. We don’t know the extent of the damage yet.

I haven’t heard a word from my credit card company! A thoroughly upset Arthur said.

No sir, they took out new ones in your name and used them. Have you any idea how they obtained your numbers?

Not a clue.

You likely got hijacked there in Florida and the info sent to California.

I guess I’ll be busy sorting this out. Arthur said.

It’ll probably take awhile, Doc. Sorry to be the bad news guy – but – we’ll send you some forms – you got a FAX there?

Yes – yes. Arthur gave him the number.

Dr. Spring had both a Visa and a Discover Card. He called them both. Nothing was amiss in either location. He told them of his plight. Their responses showed that that they had more than a little experience in such a thing. They gave him their condolences and wished him a ‘good day’, along with their promise to have his new cards in his possession within forty eight hours.

Frances was incensed. How dare They treat her husband that way! Arthur had calmed down and said to her: Happens all the time. Just my turn in the barrel. It’ll get straightened out ultimately.

You have no idea how they got your numbers? She asked.

No. I’m careful – at least I thought I was – I shred nearly all the junk mail I get just like you do. They had my Social Security number and just used that and my credit card numbers to get new credit cards.

It was your Visa card that got pirated?

Yes.

How many times did you use it in the past three months?

Maybe ten times a month.

How did they get your Social Security number too?

I haven’t the faintest idea.

You carry your S. S. card with you?

Sure – all the time.

And it stays in your wallet?

Yes. Wait a minute! When I had that little basal cell surgery they copied my Medicare Card. It’s the same as my S. S. number!

They changed my number away from that several years ago. Why hasn’t yours been changed? She asked.

Don’t know. The Outpatient Department was the only place I’ve had that card out since I came here. I also bought a small bouquet of flowers at their shop to bring home to my adorable wife and used my Visa there.

So, I’m to blame! In mock surprise.

No madam, I take full responsibility.

Those flowers were a nice touch, Arthur.

No good deed goes unpunished – right? He asked.

Sometimes so.

Should I call the local police about this? He wondered.

Can’t hurt. She said.

It took Arthur four phone calls but he finally got through to an officer in the fraud division. The officer evidenced interest in Arthur’s information and asked for details. Arthur told him what little he knew but did emphasize the one and only time his S. S. card left his billfold.

The officer told him that several other ID thefts had pointed to the hospital connection. That was about all there was at the time.

Arthur called the best number he could