[Lady Justice 37] - Lady Justice and the Living Trust Read online

  “Looks like we both have a lot of work ahead of us,” she replied.

  I had read through the trust. She had no idea how right she was.

  Maggie and I stood beside Lou Gallo as the mourners gathered around the casket.

  “I’m surprised to see so many here,” I said. “Must be close to a hundred.”

  “No big surprise,” Lou replied. “Cosmo was well-liked, notwithstanding his questionable associations.”

  I was about to press him further about the questionable associations, when he pointed to three people seated in the front row closest to the casket.

  “The grandkids,” he said, shaking his head. “Mario Sabatini, the oldest son, Lucia Manson, the middle daughter, and Angelo Sabatini, the younger son. You’ll get to meet them after the service.”

  At that moment, the priest stepped forward and began reading a scripture. His remarks were brief and to the point. The service lasted maybe ten minutes.

  After the final prayer, the grandkids stood, and each placed a rose on top of the casket. Lucia wept as the three stood solemnly staring at their grandfather.

  “Crocodile tears!” Lou muttered under his breath.

  The service having concluded, friends and family gathered around the grandchildren to express their condolences.

  I was absorbed in thought when I heard a familiar voice.

  “Walt Williams! My favorite gumshoe.”

  It was Carmine Marchetti, the godfather of the Kansas City mafia.

  For some unknown reason, fate had thrown us together many times during the past few years. He had saved my life and Maggie’s more than once, and I had done the same for him.

  While not exactly besties, we had developed a mutual respect. In spite of all his transgressions, Carmine had a moral compass, and there were lines even the mafia boss wouldn’t cross.

  Nevertheless, I knew for a fact that the bottom of the muddy Missouri river was strewn with the bodies of his enemies. I had no intention of getting on Carmine’s hit list.

  “Good afternoon, Carmine. I’m surprised to see you here. Were you and Cosmo close?”

  “More than close,” he replied. “Cosmo was my bookkeeper for fifteen years. He was with me right up to his eightieth birthday.”

  That certainly explained Lou’s remark about Cosmo’s ‘questionable association.’ Old Cosmo had cooked the books for the Kansas City mob.

  Then he spotted Maggie. “Now it’s my turn,” he said, planting an elegant kiss on her hand. “What brings Walt and his lovely wife to Floral Hills?”

  “Long story,” I replied. “My dad and Cosmo were friends. When Cosmo suffered his heart attack, he asked my dad to be the successor trustee on his Living Trust. Dad begged off because of his age and volunteered my services. Lou Gallo completed the paperwork, and I didn’t even know about it until Cosmo passed. So now, it looks like I’ll be handling the disposition of Cosmo’s estate.”

  Carmine smiled. “Glad to hear it. I know you’ll do right by my old friend.”

  At that moment, we saw Lou approaching with Cosmo’s grandkids.

  Carmine grimaced. “I’d better be moving along before I do something I’ll regret. Watch your back, Walt. Those three are nothing but trouble.”

  “Walt,” Lou said, “I’d like you to meet Angelo, Lucia, and Mario, Cosmo’s grandchildren.”

  Then he turned to the three. “This is Walt Williams and his wife, Maggie. Your grandfather named Walt as the successor trustee of his Living Trust. He’ll be handling Cosmo’s estate.”

  “So glad you’re here,” Mario said. “We’ll need a key so the three of us can go through grandad’s things.”

  Right to the point. Not so much as a howdy-do. Just give me a key so we can pillage and plunder Cosmo’s stuff.

  I turned to Lou. “Do you want to tell them or should I?”

  “Tell us what?” Mario replied, his eyes narrowing.

  Lou took a deep breath. “Uhhh --- your grandfather left specific instructions in his trust. There’s a pour over will that specifies that all his personal property is to either be sold and the proceeds added to his estate or donated to charity.”

  “I don’t believe it!” Mario retorted indignantly. “Are you telling me that his grandchildren, his only living relatives, can’t take a few mementos to remember him by?”

  Lou ducked his head. “No, I’m afraid not. His instructions were very specific, and we must abide by his wishes.”

  “This just isn’t right,” Angelo said, pointing to me. “This guy, who didn’t even know granddad, gets to decide what happens to his stuff and we don’t even have a say?”

  Although I understood their frustration, I was getting a bit peeved at their attitude.

  “Tell you what,” I said, “when we have a sale or an auction, we’ll let you know in advance. You may have the first opportunity to buy anything sentimental that reminds you of your grandfather.”

  I was pretty sure ‘buy’ wasn’t what they had in mind. They had probably figured they could move in and ‘take’ everything of value to ‘sell.’

  My comment was not well received.

  “Thanks for nothing,” Angelo muttered.

  Lucia pushed her younger brother aside. “What about the house? What happens to it?”

  “It will be sold as well, and the proceeds added to the estate,” Lou replied. “Maggie, Walt’s wife, is a real estate agent with City Wide Realty. She’ll be listing the house for sale.”

  “Okay,” Lucia continued, “that’s twice you’ve said, ‘added to the estate.’ What happens to the money when everything’s sold?”

  Again, right to the heart of the matter. How and when do we get ours?

  Lou and I exchanged glances. The grandkids weren’t going to like the answer to that question.

  “Your grandfather left specific instructions as to the disposition of his estate. This is not the time or place to discuss his wishes. I’d like the three of you to come to my office tomorrow morning at ten. That will give us ample time to discuss the details of his trust.”

  Their shoulders slumped and they rolled their eyes.

  “I had stuff to do tomorrow,” Lucia grumbled, “but I guess we have no choice.”

  As they turned to walk away, I heard Mario mutter, “This is bull shit!”

  “Sweet kids,” I said, shaking my head. “Looks like old Cosmo knew them pretty well. Our meeting tomorrow should be interesting.”

  “Interesting wasn’t the word that came to my mind,” Lou replied. “You’re a P.I. and ex-cop. You might want to bring your gun.”

  CHAPTER 4

  I was dreading the meeting in Lou Gallo’s office. I knew what was coming and it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  Cosmo’s grandchildren had revealed their true colors at the cemetery, and I was pretty sure I had only gotten a glimpse of their greed and self-indulgence.

  My suspicions were verified when they walked into Lou’s office and spotted Maria Garcia.

  “What’s the hired help doing here?” Mario demanded. “I thought this meeting was for the family.”

  “Actually,” Lou replied, “the meeting is for everyone named as a beneficiary in Cosmo’s trust.”

  “Please don’t tell me granddad left money to the maid!” Angelo said, scornfully.

  “Let’s just all have a seat,” Lou said. “I’ll go over Cosmo’s trust and everything will be clear.”

  They took their seats, glaring first at Maria, then at me.

  “I want to be perfectly clear,” Lou began, “that what you are about to hear was dictated to me personally by your grandfather. These declarations are his and his alone. I, as Cosmo’s attorney, and Mr. Williams, as his successor trustee, are charged with carrying out the instructions in the trust agreement.

  “I will begin by restating what I already told you about the disposition of the personal and real property. Everything is to be sold, and the proceeds are to be included in the final dispensation of the estate’s assets.”


  “How much are we talking about?” Angelo asked.

  “A final figure will not be available until the assets are sold, but a figure of three hundred thousand, give or take, would be a ballpark figure.”

  Their eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

  Lou took a deep breath. “Your grandfather left specific instructions as to the distribution to the beneficiaries. Once a final figure has been determined, Mr. Williams will receive five percent for his services as successor trustee.”

  I could see the wheels turning in their heads.

  “Holy crap!” Angelo blurted, giving me the evil eye. “That’s fifteen grand! Why so much?”

  “The successor trustee is responsible for many things,” Lou replied. “I assure you, Mr. Williams will earn every penny.”

  Knowing what was coming, I had my doubts whether fifteen grand would even begin to cover the grief and mental anguish I was going to endure in the coming weeks.

  Lou took another deep breath. “The first beneficiary named by your grandfather is Maria Garcia. She will be awarded fifty thousand dollars.”

  Maria’s mouth dropped open, and I could see the faces of the grandkids turning beet red.

  “Fifty thousand!” Mario exploded. “I don’t believe it! This is just wrong. She’s not family. She’s a maid for chrissakes!”

  Lou was ready and fired right back. “For twenty years, Maria has dusted shelves, polished furniture, and scrubbed floors. After your grandmother passed, she prepared Cosmo’s meals, washed his laundry, and changed his bed linens.

  “Let me ask you something, Mario. When was the last time you visited your grandfather?”

  Mario thought for a moment, then looked at his siblings. “Uhhh, Christmas, I think. We all stopped by for an hour or so in the afternoon.”

  “Exactly my point,” Lou replied. “Maria cared for your grandfather every single day, and the three of you have done absolutely nothing --- not even a visit in the past few months. Frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t give Maria his entire estate.”

  Properly chastised, Mario slunk down and sulked.

  “Just curious,” Angelo said. “What happens to the fifty thousand if something happens to Maria before Mr. Williams hands out the shares?”

  I saw Lou bristle. “In the unlikely event that Maria is no longer with us, the money would remain in the estate and be distributed to the remaining beneficiaries.”

  Angelo smiled and nodded, which really pissed me off.

  “I have a question, Lou,” I said, glaring at Angelo. “Since Maria is basically unemployed at this point, I wonder if it would be okay to give Maria her share? There’s more than enough money in Cosmo’s various accounts. It would take just a couple of days to cash in some CD’s.”

  Lou saw what I was doing and smiled. “That’s your decision as successor trustee. I certainly wouldn’t have any problem with it.”

  All three of the grandkids jumped out of their chairs. “What!” Lucia exclaimed. “The maid gets paid and we have to wait?”

  “First of all,” I replied, “we have to sell the personal property and house, then pay all bills before we can make a final distribution. Second, I believe there are other provisions in the trust that you should know about. Lou, care to share?”

  He grimaced. “Your grandfather included provisions that must be fulfilled before Mr. Williams can award you your share. So that there is no confusion, I will read your grandfather’s words directly from the trust. Again, the figure owed to you, or your percentage, is after Maria, Mr. Williams, and all bills have been paid.

  “To Mario Sabatini, I bequeath one third of the remaining estate upon the condition that you join Gambler’s Anonymous and not place a bet or gamble in any manner for a period of six months. Should you fail to live up to this condition, you will forfeit your portion and it will be given to The Veteran’s Tiny House Project.”

  Mario was incensed. “That’s bullshit! He can’t do that --- can he?”

  “He most certainly can, Mario. Your grandfather was well aware of your gambling problem. More than once he bailed you out of your gambling debts. If you want to receive your share of his inheritance, you must abide by his wishes. It’s for your own good.

  “Let me continue. To Lucia Manson, I bequeath one third of the remaining estate upon the condition that you join Alcoholics Anonymous and remain sober for a period of six months. Should you fail to live up to this condition, you will forfeit your portion and it will be given to The Hope House, a shelter for battered wives and children.”

  Lucia’s face turned red. I wasn’t sure whether it was from anger or embarrassment. She nodded, but said nothing.

  “To Angelo Sabatini,” Lou continued, “I bequeath one third of the remaining estate upon the condition that you obtain gainful employment for a period of six months. Should you fail to live up to this condition, you will forfeit your portion and it will be given to the Salvation Army.”

  “So when does this crap start?” Angelo asked.

  Lou looked at his watch and smiled. “The clock is ticking.”

  He pointed to Angelo. “Get a job!” Then to Lucia. “Not a drop of anything.” Then to Mario. “Not a dime! Not one dime! Do you all understand?”

  Angelo raised his hand. “But how will you know whether we’re doing all this stuff?”

  Lou pointed to me. “Mr. Williams is your judge and jury. You must prove to him that you are fulfilling your obligation. If he discovers you have lost your job, taken a drink, or placed a bet, he has no choice but to award your share to the appropriate charity. Good luck to you all.”

  If the menacing looks from the grandchildren were any indication of what was to come, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be earning every penny of that fifteen grand.

  CHAPTER 5

  I knew there was no way I would be able to keep tabs on all three of Cosmo’s wayward grandkids by myself, so my first call after arriving home was to Kevin.

  “Hey partner, how’s it going with Mr. Porter?”

  “Got the goods on him last night and delivered the incriminating photos to the missus this morning.”

  “Great! If you’re free, come on over and I’ll fill you in on our next job.”

  Twenty minutes later, Kevin was sitting in my office.

  “So where’s the client?” he asked. looking around.

  “He won’t be coming,” I replied. “He’s dead.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, I told him what had happened from the moment Dad and Bernice interrupted my breakfast, right through the meeting at Lou’s office.

  After I’d finished, he sat there for a moment, stunned. “So our job is to keep an eye on these three schmucks to make sure they’re not gambling, drinking, or goofing off?”

  “That’s pretty much sums it up.”

  “Are we getting paid, or is this one of our frequent pro bono gigs?”

  “We’re actually getting paid. As the successor trustee, I get 5% of the value of the estate which should be in the neighborhood of fifteen thousand.”

  “Nice neighborhood,” he replied, smiling. “I can live with that. Where shall we start?”

  “I’m going to start by recruiting some help. Guess who I saw at Cosmo’s funeral?”

  “Elvis?”

  “Carmine Marchetti,” I replied, ignoring his feeble attempt at humor. “Cosmo Sabatini cooked the mafia’s books for fifteen years. Carmine and Cosmo were buds.”

  “Small world,” he replied, shaking his head.

  I dialed Carmine’s private line. I could probably count on one hand the people who had that number. I suppose it’s an honor of sorts, being among the privileged few.

  “Walt Williams!” he boomed. “What can I do for my favorite gumshoe?”

  “I’m sure you remember from our conversation at Floral Hills, I’m Cosmo’s successor trustee.”

  “Yeah, I remember. So what?”

  “We had a meeting with Cosmo’s grandkids today at Lou Gallo’s office to
go over the terms of the trust. He set forth some conditions the three of them had to meet to get their share. One of the conditions was that Mario couldn’t gamble or place a bet for the next six months.”

  I heard Carmine give a low whistle. “Good for Cosmo. Sharp as a tack right to the end.”

  “The reason I’m calling, I thought you might know something about Mario’s gambling problem since you’re in that business.”

  He laughed. “Nicely put. Actually, I’m very well aware of Mario’s problem. More than once he’s placed a bet he couldn’t cover. If it was anyone else, there would have been some busted kneecaps, but I gave him a break because he was Cosmo’s kin. How can I help?”

  “It would be a big favor to Cosmo if you could spread the word about Mario, and let me know if he contacts any of your people about placing a bet.”

  “Consider it done. What about the other two losers?”

  “Lucia can’t drink and Angelo has to get a permanent job.”

  “Jesus! That’s like asking the sun not to come up tomorrow morning. What happens if they screw up?’

  “Their share goes to charity.”

  “I love it! Looks like Cosmo’s money will do some good after all. I’ll let you know if I hear anything and you do the same. Ciao, baby.”

  Kevin had heard the entire conversation. “Nice to have friends in high places. What do you have in mind for us?”

  “I’m worried about Maria. When Lou said she’d be getting fifty thousand, Angelo asked what would happen to the money if something happened to her.”

  “Are you thinking they might try to bump her off?”

  “People have committed mayhem for a lot less. It’s going to take me a couple of days to liquidate some assets so I can pay Maria her share. I think we should keep an eye on her just in case.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Maria lived in a small bungalow on Mercer Street in Kansas City’s west side.

  We arrived just as the sun was setting, armed with sandwiches, coffee, and other unhealthy snacks.

  “So, what’s the story on Marie?” Kevin asked as we settled in for the evening.