Road Test by David Wickenhauser (best inspirational books txt) 📗

“Thanks, I’ll let the others know too.”

“OK, Mom, I wanted to let you know everything is good. We’re on 95 headed south out of Sandpoint ... Wait a minute.”

“What, honey?” Hugh asked Jenny. She was mouthing for Hugh to ask his mom for James’ phone number.

To his mom, he said, “Can you get me James’ phone number? The salesman couldn’t put it in for me because I couldn’t remember it.”

“Sure, no problem, hold on.” A few moments later she read out James’ phone number.

“Hi, Jenny. How are you doing?” Martha said.

“Hi, Mom.” She grinned at Hugh. “We’re doing good. Glad to be on the road again.”

“OK. I’ll let you two go. Keep in touch.”

“Will do. Bye.”

Chapter Seven

Bill Fishburn, Attorney at Law, was a sole practitioner whose prestigious law office was located in the upscale city of Scottsdale, Arizona, situated within the greater metropolitan area of Phoenix.

By day, he was a legitimate attorney, employing several paralegals and a secretary/receptionist. His practice consisted of handling clients’ needs for legal representation in the areas of contract disputes, employment and labor, and personal injury claims.

His reputation among his peers was flawless, and the law office had a long waiting list of clients needing his services.

By night, however, his specialty was running a scam finding clients who hadn’t been in an accident yet, and who hadn’t required legal representation, but who, with the attorney’s help and a little cash on the side as incentive, were willing to place themselves in situations resulting in big payouts for the attorney.

Specifically, this attorney was the prime mover behind a fake-crash insurance scam operation targeting trucking companies.

It started when Fishburn began to notice the nuclear verdicts that were being handed down against commercial carriers by juries who harbored biases against truck drivers and their mega carriers. He decided he wanted to bite off a chunk of that lucrative apple.

Employees in his law office were aware, of course, that their boss handled an inordinate amount of truck-crash litigation. But Fishburn was sure none of them suspected the truck crashes that provided for his lucrative business were instigated by the attorney himself.

With nearly twenty fake-crash insurance claims and lawsuits to his “credit” over the past couple of years, Fishburn had reaped the reward for this side hustle. He enjoyed his three-million-dollar home in an up-scale part of town, his several luxury cars and the lavish lifestyle the fruits of this scam had provided.

But he had yet to hit the big payout, one like those in the eighty-million to two-hundred-fifty-million-dollar range he had been seeing in the news lately.

“Listen, Joe,” Fishburn said, “You need to get a crew together and plan something bigger than what we’ve been doing lately.”

Fishburn and Joe Montoya were meeting at the coffee shop in Old Town Scottsdale that was their usual after-hours place to discuss and plan their scam operations.

Joe was the ring leader of Fishburn’s insurance scam gang, but he had never been to Fishburn’s law office or to his home. The attorney was careful to remain as hands-off as possible – taking great pains to do so.

Joe did not travel in the usual circles the attorney did, way below him in social status in fact – something Fishburn kept in mind in arranging these private meetings.

The attorney paid the ring leader in cash based on a percentage of the payout from each fake crash. Some “accidents” were more lucrative than others. Quick insurance settlements paid the least, but there were more of them. Extended lawsuits, especially those with juries sympathetic to the truck crash passenger car victims, were the cash cows. Much more lucrative, but fewer in number.

Fishburn rewarded Joe with enough of the payout to keep him happily working for him. Joe, in turn, was responsible for finding, managing and paying those on the lowest level of the scam – the “victims” who did the dangerous work of getting themselves into accidents with the big-rig trucks.

The trick was to stage the accident realistically enough to cause minor injuries to encourage a settlement or to win a lawsuit, but without causing major injuries or a fatality.

When the injuries weren’t serious enough, the attorney had several agreeable doctors “on staff” he could count on, with the right monetary incentive, to give him the kind of medical reports and expert-witness testimony he needed.

“What do you have in mind?” Joe asked.

Fishburn leaned in closer so he could keep his voice down.

“I’m thinking, Joe, we need to step up our game a bit. Pick one of the mega carriers, and get your people involved in a serious crash with one of their big rigs.”

“We’ve been doing that all along,”

“No, I mean a really serious crash. It’s got to be big, a lot of injury, or worse, something that will have the trucker’s insurance carrier begging us to take their large settlement to avoid publicity. Or something that will make jury members cry, and want to hand us a mega-million award.”

“Or worse? Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That’s brand new territory for us. We’re careful not to go that far.”

“It’s time to not be so careful. Something to think about is the biggest payouts have involved moms and kids.”

Joe looked at the attorney, but didn’t speak.

“Arrange it,” Fishburn said. “Moms and kids.”

The attorney placed payment for their coffees and a tip on the table and stood up. He had a rule. Always pay cash, and never stiff a waitress. He knew their jobs were unbearably difficult.

Leaning over, he spoke quietly enough into Joe’s ear to prevent anybody else from hearing. “I want a nuclear verdict this time. Moms and kids, or we are through.”