podium and delivered a few terse remarks. He kept glancing past me. I looked back and discovered what he was watching for: the bar was now open.
He quickly finished his remarks about “our shipmate Joseph,” presented a proclamation encased in a cheap, thin wooden frame to Janet, and declared the memorial service adjourned. He strode confidently from the podium toward the bar, shaking hands as he went.
That was enough for me. I stood and headed for the door. I was just reaching for the doorknob when a hand on my shoulder pulled me to a stop. I turned. Nevitt.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Seattle ,” he said with a sneer. “But it saves me the trouble of calling you. I’m having you removed as executor. I want you to know that.”
The confrontational way he said it made me angry. I took a deep breath, forced myself to reply calmly. “I can understand that as a lawyer, you’re probably more qualified to handle things. That’s fine with me. Give my condolences to your sister.” I turned to go.
“I want the money back you cheated Joe out of,” he said belligerently. “You ripped off the old guy. You’re not getting away with it.”
“What are you talking about?” A crowd was beginning to form around us.
“You kept buying and selling his stocks so you could run up commissions. You made a lot of money at his expense. You stole his retirement.”
“I did not.”
“Yeah, right. Tell that to the N.A.S.D.”
Mention of the National Association of Securities Dealers hit me like a Mike Tyson uppercut. They were the group that looked into securities fraud. With them, you were guilty until proven innocent. “Tell what to the N.A.S.D.?”
“I filed a complaint charging you with churning, and I demanded damages. You’re not going to get away with preying on the elderly.”
Some of the geezers in the crowd were beginning to nod, say, “Yeah.”
“I didn’t do anything Joe didn’t want done,” I said defensively and left.
I got in the Saab, drove out of there. I was too agitated to drive while I was using the car phone, so I pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store and dialed Julian’s number. Amanda, his assistant, answered.
“Amanda, I need to talk to him. This is an emergency.” In a moment, Julian was on the line.
“Listen, I know I should—”
“Forget about that. I’ve got big trouble. Nevitt just told me he’s filed a complaint against me with National Association of Securities Dealers.”
“What kind of complaint?”
“Churning. He’s demanding damages.”
“What’s churning? Why is he demanding damages?”
“Churning is when a broker buys and sells stocks rapidly to make more commissions. The faster the portfolio is churned, the more money is made. Accusations of churning are reviewed by a mediator who has the authority to award damages.”
“Okay, I understand what it is. But you didn’t churn this guy, Matt. What are you worried about?”
“I bought and sold a lot of stocks for him. He liked to get in and out of things quickly. Could be close to 400% a year. If it is, I’m dead. The N.A.S.D. automatically pulls your license.”
“Oh.”
“Even if it isn’t, I’m going to look guilty. This is bad. Really bad.”
“What do you think he’s looking to get out of this?”
“That’s easy—money. I think he’s going to try and get back every commission Joe ever paid me and then some.”
“Has he already filed charges?”
“He said he had. He said he was going to get me removed as executor and had filed charges with the N.A.S.D.”
“Removed as executor? He said that?”
“He sure did.”