The Gripes of Roth

By Garibaldi Sabio

The estate of a wealthy photographer hires private detective Rocky Stonebrook to find someone. Whom do you want me to find? asks Stonebrook. The executrix and the probate attorney explain that in his will, the decedent, Jerry Roth, left one-fourth of his money to someone named Robert Johnson, of whom no one in the family or anyone among his colleagues or friends has ever heard. With the help of his trusty partner, Lauren Marlo, Stonebrook sets out to do the impossible.

Unlike the movies, this private detective agency has more than one client. So Stonebrook is also engaged to assist a defense counsel in an army court martial; and Lauren takes on the task of finding a retired lawyer to testify in a case where someone who signed a prenuptial agreement twenty years earlier now is getting divorced and wants the court to invalidate the prenup.


The Gripes of Roth is the fourth in the series featuring Rocky Stonebrook as the central character.

In the other three, Stonebrook is hired by the National Hitpersons Society to locate the killer of a hitwoman (Action); looks for someone in the Witness Protection Program (Behind the Curtain); and goes undercover on a merchant ship to check out allegations of murder on the high seas (Tossed Overboard). Sabio has also written a fifth novel, a nonviolent sc-fi book (not in the Stonebrook series) called 2358, named for the year in which the protagonist wakes up after having been vitrified (frozen).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543462104

Garibaldi Sabio

If he were a player in the NFL, sportswriters would call Garibaldi Sabio “well-traveled.” He has moved around a good deal: He has been a doctoral candidate in Comparative Tropical history, a former assistant to a mayor, a community action factotum, Chief Planner for a Governor’s Manpower Office, a data privacy maven, an attorney, a trainer of mediators and arbitrators, a law professor, a newspaper editor-in-chief, a columnist in a lawyers’ magazine, and a Community College Spanish teacher. He is convinced that his family serves as proof of gender balance in the Milky Way because he and his wife are the parents of six daughters and nine grandsons. He and his wife live in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, where, among other things, Sabio is a member of the Jackson Hole Writers Group, leads walking tours of Jackson for the Jackson Hole Historical Society, and is the Lyricist for the Jackson Mounted Patrol.

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by Garibaldi Sabio.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2017916674

ISBN:      Hardcover         978-1-5434-6208-1

                Softcover           978-1-5434-6209-8

                 eBook                978-1-5434-6210-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/28/2017

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1 The Weird Realms Bookstore in Cleveland

Chapter 2 Office of Stonebrook-Marlo Investigations

Chapter 3 That Afternoon

Chapter 4 Stonebrook’s Apartment

Chapter 5 Kranson’s Coffee Shop

Chapter 6 Emily’s Floral Shop in Shaker Heights

Chapter 7 The Aryan League HQ

Chapter 8 The Stonebrook-Marlo Office

Chapter 9 Law Office of Catherine P. Carthage

Chapter 10 The Accountant

Chapter 11 Desperate Measures

Chapter 12 The Police

Chapter 13 The Puzzle

Chapter 14 Uncle Carl

Chapter 15 The Jamaican Nexus

Chapter 16 The Aryan League Tapes

Chapter 17 Lauren the Code Breaker

Chapter 18 Stonebrook’s Apartment

Chapter 19 The Following Monday

Chapter 20 Stonebrook’s Apartment

Chapter 21 Crown Heights, Brooklyn. N.Y.

Chapter 22 The New York Lawyer

Chapter 23 Back in Cleveland

Chapter 24 At the Aryan League Headquarters

Chapter 25 Transition

Chapter 26 In Minneapolis

Chapter 27 On the Trail of the $10,000

Chapter 28 Gunvaldsson Vs. Gunvaldsson

Chapter 29 Checking Out the Prenup Lawyers

Chapter 30 Hollywood, Florida

Chapter 31 Minneapolis

Chapter 32 Crown Heights (Brooklyn, Ny)

Chapter 33 The Hitperson

Chapter 34 The General Counsel

Chapter 35 Kingsbrook Hospital

Chapter 36 Bridgener Deposition

Chapter 37 The Board Meeting

Chapter 38 The Gunvaldsson Hearing

Chapter 39 The Arraignment

Chapter 40 The Referee’s Orders

Chapter 41 Dornan, Frager & Paloma

Chapter 42 Camp McCoy, Wisconsin

Chapter 43 Jesse Milici

Chapter 44 Investigating

Chapter 45 Pre-Trial Skirmishing

Chapter 46 The Court Martial –Voir Dire

Chapter 47 Trial – Day One Witnesses

Chapter 48 Trial – Day Two Witnesses

Chapter 49 The Trial – Day Three

Chapter 50 Testimony of Jesse Milici

Chapter 51 Closing Arguments

Chapter 52 The Verdict

Chapter 53 In Minneapolis

Acknowledgments

~ The Jackson Hole Writers Group gave very helpful feedback, particularly about voice, in the chapters that the author brought to the Writers Group for critiques.

~ Maruka not only painstakingly proofread the manuscript, twice, she also provided sage advice concerning dialogue, punctuational consistency, age-appropriate slang, and plot development.

THANK YOU!

Chapter 1

The Weird Realms Bookstore in Cleveland

"Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen; and welcome to the Weird Realms Book Store.

We are pleased that so many of you have turned out on this snowy, January night to hear Pedro Fishkin talk about his hot-off-the-press book, Strange Legacies. Most of you know him by his professional name, Rocky Stonebrook, of the Stonebrook-Marlo Private Detective Agency. Pedro – or Rocky – the podium is yours."

They shook hands to a round of applause, and Fishkin, waved to the crowd. He, of course, declined to wear a tie; but he did wear a sport jacket over a button-down, blue shirt and a pair of khakis. Since he was 6’ 3", he adjusted the microphone on the podium so that it would be close to his mouth and began:

"Thanks, Frank. I am grateful both to the Weird Realms Bookstore for making this gig possible and to the estate planning section of the county bar association for endorsing my book. And it was awfully nice of all of you to come out on this frigid evening just to hear me talk and to sign the books that I’m hoping you’ll buy when I get done speaking, which won’t be that long.

"Instead of reading to you from the book, let me tell you how I came to write it and tickle your interest with a few Will stories. Right after I graduated Ohio State, I got busted on a possession of marijuana charge and spent a year in prison in Trenton, New Jersey. With a lot of time on my hands in the prison library, I began to read some of the dust-encrusted law books.

Most of them were out-of-date and written in the stilted prose of the 18th century, but I found some Wills and trusts cases that made it to appellate courts and, so, had judicial opinions. For some reason, I found them fascinating. And I started to make notes. I convinced the warden to install a limited-use computer in the library, just to do research on the law.

"Some of the jailhouse lawyers found the legal apps. helpful, but most of the inmates gave up on the computer when they found out they couldn’t access porn. I used it to do research for this book, which I originally entitled Weird Wills, but my English-major significant other, Donna Putrell, who’s sitting next to my partner, Lauren Marlo, convinced me that the title, despite its alliteration, had neither visual nor auditory appeal; so at her suggestion, I changed it to Strange Legacies.

"Because she was an English major, Donna’s favorite from the book is a case out of Iowa where the testator – that’s law speak for the guy who signs the Will – knowing that he was near the end of his life, sold his house and his farm and his animals and his barn and equipment; and he banked a cool $3,456,000. Since he was a childless widower whose brothers and sisters had all predeceased him, he decided to leave his fortune to the adult children of his siblings.

"His lawyer drafted the document so that it read this way: ‘I devise the $3,456,000 so that it is equally divided between my niece and my eight nephews.’ Well, the eight nephews hired the lawyer who had drafted the Will and anticipated that each of the cousins would reap $384,000.

"Each of them wound up with only $216,000, however, because the niece hired her own lawyer. She successfully argued that if the old man had wanted to divide the estate nine ways, he would have written ‘I hereby devise my estate equally among my niece and my eight nephews;’ but he wrote between my niece and my eight nephews, thereby manifesting an intent to give half to her and the other half to be apportioned among the nephews.

If the testator were alive, he might have clarified his true intention, or at least sued his lawyer for malpractice; but he was dead and could not. So, all you potential testators out there, and all you estate planners sitting here in the audience, be very careful how you say what you, or your clients, intend. Precision in English is as important as precision in Legalese.

Fishkin went on to regale the audience with two other stories and then prudently ended his talk. Almost everyone lined up to buy a signed copy of his book.

Before the signing, however, the woman who chaired the estate planning section of the bar association stood up, introduced herself, and said, "Even though Mr. Fishkin is not an attorney, his book is so good that I have already purchased 12 copies to hand out to my clients. Before he signs your copies, I’d like to read aloud the Forward to the book, written by the former Warden of the prison, J. Phillip Boxliter.

‘When Pedro Fishkin matriculated to the New Jersey State Prison, it was a maximum security facility; and at the time the feds determined that pot was a serious felony. He was 22 and one of the few college graduates in the population, so I made him coordinator of the prison library, which was in terrible shape. I gave him a free hand and even let him select two assistants.

Fishkin chose one guy who was head of the Gangster Killer Bloods, and the other was the head of the Latin Kings Gang. Both of them had been assigned to the laundry, one of the worst jobs in the prison. Both were barely literate but were glad to get out of the Laundry.

‘Within four months, Fishkin had gotten public libraries and public schools in Middlesex, Monmouth, and Mercer Counties to donate books; had convinced the prison carpentry shop to build bookcases; had created an order for shelving the books that ignored the Dewey Decimal System but made sense to poorly educated prisoners; had mediated a truce between the Bloods and the Latin Kings; had started an English class for the Spanish and Portuguese-speakers in prison; and was teaching a Spanish class for the Anglos. I was truly sorry to see him leave. The least I could do was to write a glowing letter to the Ohio Private Investigation and Security Service Commission in support of Fishkin’s application for a Private Investigator’s Class B license.’"

The audience applauded and made a line for Fishkin to sign. One man said, as he was handing his credit card to the book store staffer, Mr. Stonebrook, I’m Thomas Batson, and I have an appointment with you tomorrow morning at 10:00 a.m.

Fishkin-Stonebrook looked up. Well, nice to meet you in advance, Tom. As I recall from my appointment book, you’re an estate planning attorney.

That’s right. And I wanted to give you a heads-up about the case in case you don’t want to take it.

Stonebrook grimaced. Why do you think I might turn it down?

"Well, the decedent in his case is Jerry Roth. Does that name ring a bell?’

Can’t say that it does. Should it?

Roth was the number two guy in the Cuyahoga County Aryan League, and was known as the ‘Flame Thrower.’ He led pickets against Planned Parenthood, wrote letters to the editor under the rubric of ‘Deport the Eleven Million,’ drafted bills for the legislature to forbid clergymen from performing marriage ceremonies between people of the same sex or who are of different religions or races. He also showed up at rallies with armbands that had double lightning bolts on them.

Stonebrook sat back and thought about how he would respond. "First of all, when I take on a case, I don’t pay attention to whether the client’s politics are blue, red, or purple, so long as his or her money is green. Second, since Roth is obviously dead; you apparently would be the client. Third, even Aryan-leaguers on the loony fringe have a right to decide who’s going to get their money after they die."

Batson smiled. Well, I’m glad to hear that. I’ll see you tomorrow morning then, along with the executrix, the decedent’s adult daughter, Frances Miller.

Right on, Tom. And thanks for buying the book.

Chapter 2

Office of Stonebrook-Marlo Investigations

Good morning, Carol, Stonebrook said, as he rolled into the office at 9:45 just in time to have a cup of coffee before the clients appeared. Please ask Lauren to join me when the clients show.

Not possible, Rocky. She’s stuck at the O’Hare Airport ‘cause of the weather.

Oh, well. Can I get you a cup of coffee? It was a pretend ritual. He always asked, but she made the coffee every morning and had already had her cup before he arrived.

No thanks, she replied.

Stonebrook went into his office, straightened up his desk, somewhat, and sipped his coffee while reading the morning newspaper. His first office had been a single room that he shared with Carol; he had been obliged to meet clients in coffee shops. After the big infusion from the Turner case, he had rented a nicer arrangement – separate private offices for both him and Lauren and a reception area for Carol and clients. It was sort of like Sam Spade’s office shown in the movie, The Maltese Falcon, except that there was the extra private office for his associate, Lauren Marlo, who became his partner following her brilliant work on the Delgadinho case 18 months earlier.

Carol buzzed him when Attorney Batson and Ms. Miller arrived. He went out to greet them and offered them coffee or water, which they declined. Seated at Stonebrook’s conference table, Batson opened his briefcase and pulled out a copy of the Will, which he handed to Stonebrook. This copy’s for you, he said. Notice the names of the heirs, as you review the document.

After reading through the Will, Stonebrook looked up and said, "The testator of this Will is William G. Meckstroth; I had understood you yesterday to say that the decedent was Jerry Roth."

Meckstroth’s middle name, answered the lawyer, was Gerald; the name he used in his letters to the editor and for other events connected with the Aryan League was Jerry Roth, a nickname first name and a truncated version of his surname.

Hmm, commented Stonebrook.

Batson couldn’t resist: No offense, but I didn’t expect Pedro Fishkin, alias Rocky Stonebrook, to be surprised when someone else compartmentalized his life with two names.

No offense taken. I concede the point. But I still don’t know precisely what you’d be hiring Stonebrook&Marlo to do.

You surely noticed that, except for some minor charitable bequests, Mr. Meckstroth devised a quarter of his estate to his daughter, Frances; another quarter to his son, Frances’s younger brother, Darrin; a third quarter to his ex-wife, Emily; and the final quarter to his business partner, Robert Johnson.

Yeah? Stonebrook put his hands out, palms out, to support the quizzical nature of the ‘yeah.’

The problem is that we have no idea who Robert Johnson is.

Stonebrook stroked his chin and looked at both Batson and Ms. Miller. I take it that you didn’t draft this document, Tom.

That’s right. As you can see from the date on the last page, Mr. Meckstroth executed this Will about 10 years ago and never updated it. I was a junior associate in the firm at that time, and the attorney who drafted the Will died before Mr. Meckstroth did. I have checked the firm’s Meckstroth file quite thoroughly, but there’s nothing in the file to give us even a clue who Robert Johnson might be. And there is no ‘Roth’ file.

Stonebrook turned to the woman. Ms. Miller, if we’re going to be working together, may I call you Frances? Please call me Rocky.

She gave the only possible answer to such a question. Uh, yes, of course.

What kind of business did your father have?

He was a photographer.

Did he have partners?

No, he didn’t. He was a lone wolf his entire career. And when I engaged Mr. Batson to represent me as the executrix, he had me look in the phone book. There are dozens of Robert Johnsons in the Cleveland telephone directory. I called the first four, but I kind of gave up after that because I felt foolish asking if the Robert Johnson who answered was my dad’s business partner since I couldn’t explain what business that might be. At least three of the four suspected that I was a burglar making up a story to find out if the house would be empty or some such nonsense. And, of course, we don’t even know if this Johnson fellow lives in Cleveland.

Frances, is it possible that your dad had a side business that he never talked to you about?

"It must be possible even though neither Darrin nor I ever heard of any side business; and we could find nothing either in his home filing cabinet or his files at the photography studio that mentions any other business; and yet, the Will refers to this Mr. Johnson as a business partner."

Tom, Stonebrook asked, turning his attention to the lawyer, how often do you see a Will where a testator leaves a substantial chunk of his estate to an ex-spouse?

Almost never, came Batson’s answer.

Well, Frances, perhaps you could shed some light here. Can you describe your parents’ relationship before and after the divorce?

They seemed to be normal parents when we were kids, she answered. We never saw them fight. They divorced right after Darrin started his first job out of college, and Darrin and I were both quite surprised. Neither of them ever gave us much of an explanation. But they didn’t have a nasty break-up either. And, although it appeared odd at first to us, they both showed up at family gatherings – - -Thanksgiving, Christmas, July 4th, baptisms, grandchildren’s birthdays – and seemed to be on friendly terms.

Well, said Stonebrook, this sounds like an interesting case. We’ll take it. Here’s our standard engagement letter. I’ve made three copies, one for you, Frances; one for Tom; and one for the firm. My partner, Lauren Marlo, will be working with me; and she would have been here this morning, but she is currently stranded at the airport in Chicago. Please look it over, discuss it, and let me know if you have any questions.

Frances looked over at Tom Batson, signaling non-verbally that she expected him to read, evaluate, and approve it. He read it carefully and pronounced that it was quite reasonable. He added, We’ll sign, but I would be grateful if you would change the name of the estate on the first page from ‘Jerry Roth’ to ‘William Meckstroth.’ He signed all three copies, asked Frances to sign them, and turned all the copies around for Stonebrook to sign. While Stonebrook was signing, Batson pulled out a checkbook and wrote out a check for the retainer stipulated in the engagement letter, namely $7,500.

Thank you, said Stonebrook, who then buzzed Carol, and when she entered the office, he asked her to modify the first page of all three copies. Turning to the clients, he said, Now I need to ask some questions about where we might begin. I’m going to need a list of his friends, his clients, anyone with whom he associated. You also haven’t told me the cause of death or if the former Mrs. Meckstroth is still alive.

Batson spoke up. I anticipated that you would want that information. Mr. And Mrs. Meckstroth divorced about 15 years ago, after both children had emancipated and had their own apartments. Mrs. Meckstroth reverted to her maiden name, which was Emily Gerlach; and she lives in Shaker Heights in an apartment over a florist shop that she owns. Her contact information is on what I have labeled ‘Attachment A’ in this folder. ‘Attachment B’ is a list of the photography clients that Mr. Meckstroth had over the last three years and their contact information. The repeat clients are listed with an asterisk. ‘Attachment C’ is a list of friends and acquaintances that either Frances or Darrin could think of, with whatever contact information they could manage. Mr. Meckstroth died of a heart attack, but the coroner decided to conduct an autopsy. We’re awaiting the results.

Could you get me a copy of the divorce decree?

I was certain that you’d want it. It’s in the folder as ‘Attachment E.’

That’s a great start. Thanks, Tom. Are Frances’s and Darrin’s information on any of those attachments, in case we need to chat with them further?

Yes, they are on ‘Attachment D’ along with my card and the name and number of my paralegal, for whenever I’m not available.

What’s the status of the probate?

I have filed the Will with the probate court, and the judge has issued letters testamentary and has ratified Frances’s appointment as executrix. I have written to the court, explaining that we’ll need to put the case on hold because we can’t locate a major legatee named in the Will and that we were going to hire a Private Investigator, which we have now done. A copy of the court file submissions comprises ‘Attachment F.’

Stonebrook nodded. So, Frances, I take it that you are assembling an inventory of the assets and liabilities. There was an interrogative lilt to his seemingly declarative statement. When she answered affirmatively, he asked, Do you have some idea of the size of the estate?

Tom answered for her. We think it’s in the neighborhood of $3,000,000, unless you turn up a side business which would add to its size.

Stonebrook looked surprised. I didn’t know that the photography business was so lucrative.

Frances replied, My dad inherited a substantial sum from his parents and invested that inheritance well. Some of it is in securities, some of it is in IRAs, some in real estate, and the homestead is probably worth $400,000. I compiled a summary, which is ‘Attachment G’ behind the other documents Tom has put together.

Well, you two have made it possible for us to jump right in. It’s a pleasure for investigators when the clients are so well-organized. With that he rose, and shook their hands.

Our first report may not occur for three or four weeks until we interview a bunch of people on your lists, but after the first report, we’ll try to clue you both in every two weeks.

Splendid, said Tom.

Thank you very much, Mr. Stonebrook. I mean ‘Rocky,’ Frances added.

Once they had left, Stonebrook handed the check to Carol. For the client trust account, please. She merely nodded, indicating that she knew the drill.

Carol, he said, I’ve blocked off the rest of the morning and the early part of the afternoon to prepare my final report on the Nyquist case. I know I won’t get it done if there are a bunch of interruptions, so I’d be grateful if you’d tell any callers that I’ll get back to them later.

Got it, Rocky. If Lauren shows up, though, should I assume that she can interrupt?

"Yep. But Lauren and a nuclear attack should be the only permitted interrupters. And if Lauren does make the scene today, ask her to read over this new Meckstroth file before she comes to chat."

Chapter 3

That Afternoon

Around 2:00, Lauren arrived at the office, suitcase in hand and a mile-wide grin on her face. Hi, Carol. O’Hare is a royal pain, but the weather finally cleared, and the plane took off.

Well, we’re glad you made it, but how come you didn’t go home first?

Because of this, she said, flashing her left hand.

Well, congratulations, my dear. It’s a beautiful engagement ring. And will you be calling me ‘Aunt Carol’ now?

Lauren couldn’t conceal her astonishment. How did you know it was Ted?

"You silly goose: Every time Rocky mentions Ted, your face and neck turn as scarlet as your hair; and every time you mention Ted’s name, you develop shortness of breath."

So, you’ve known for a long time. But you never gave any indication that you were aware that Ted and I had ... a relationship.

I didn’t think it was my place. I figured that you had a reason for not mentioning it.

Does that mean I have your blessing?

You don’t need my blessing, but I’m very happy for you both. I actually helped Ted pick out the ring when he was here for Thanksgiving. And, just so you don’t go ape when my sister tells you, let me give you a heads-up: She and my brother-in-law want to pay for the wedding, but she hasn’t figured out how to make the offer without insulting you or your mom.

Lauren’s mouth dropped open. But why?

"As you know, Ted is one of three boys. His older brother married a girl whose parents are very traditional and would only allow the Bruners to underwrite the groom’s dinner. The youngest son is living in a menage-a-trois in Berkeley and has no present interest in messing up that arrangement with a marriage. Since the Bruners have no daughters, their only opportunity to host a wedding is Ted’s and yours." Carol did not add that her sister was aware that Lauren’s mom was a widow who was paying out-of-state college tuition for Lauren’s younger sister and was probably still paying off the loan for the older sister’s wedding two years ago.

Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you, thank you, for letting me know. I’ll pretend to be surprised when Ted’s mom asks if it’s okay. She looked at Stonebrook’s closed door. Does Rocky have a client in with him? I want to show him my ring.

"No client, but I’m under strict orders