Accidents Waiting to Happen (40 page)

“Yeah, that’s what got
viatical
companies into trouble—the large up front payoffs.
 
Viatical settlements became big business at the beginning of the nineties when people saw easy money could be made.”

“How?”

“AIDS.
 
Many medical insurance polices wouldn’t cover AIDS patients, so a lot of people would have become destitute if a number of companies hadn’t popped up giving them a large cut of their life policy while they were still alive.
 
Bingo, a lot of very sick people lived out their last days worry and debt free.
 
And viatical companies got what they wanted, a quick, sure-fire return on an investment.
 
The estimated life expectancy of an AIDS patient was a year, maybe two.
 
The investment firms paid the monthly dues and passed over some cash.
 
Everybody was happy.”

Josh sneered.
 
“Sounds a bit ghoulish, living off the dead and profiteering off someone’s misery.
 
They must be willing their clients to die.”

“Yeah, but they did you a good turn when you needed it.”

No denying it, he had benefited from the system—at the time.
 
“So what went wrong?
 
We wouldn’t be here unless something had happened.”

“Smart boy.
 
Medical breakthroughs.
 
There have been several successful AIDS drugs put on the market over the last few years that have changed the world for their patients.
 
AIDS patients have an increased life expectancy of ten years and in ten years, who knows, there might even be a cure.
 
So the viatical companies were screwed.
 
Suddenly the big short-term profits dried up.
 
Their clients had the cash to buy the drugs and got the better end of the deal.
 
The companies started going to the wall, paying out too much too soon with no likely return in sight, plus they still had all those monthly dues to cover.
 
The ones that diversified survived.
 
They moved onto other terminal illnesses like cancer, heart disease—all the biggies medical science doesn’t have an answer for.”

Bob stopped to drink his coffee and Josh let the information sink in.

Bob continued.
 
“The other way some viatical companies survived was to act as an agent.
 
They acted as intermediaries for private investors or investment clubs who made large cash payments for some poor sap’s life insurance.
 
Little did they know they might have to wait a decade to get anything when they thought a check would be in the mail in twelve months.
 
I remember seeing the late night infomercials ages ago.”

“So what’s Pinnacle Investments’ story?”

“They were one of the founding companies in the industry, setting up a division to specifically get a steal on the rest.
 
They bought big and were paid out bigger.
 
Most of their clients were AIDS patients, but they’d already moved into all kinds of terminal diseases.
 
The annual report was a shareholder’s dream, with major growth in the early nineties.
 
But, the ninety-eight report was the complete opposite.
 
The viatical division was sinking the rest of the firm.
 
But in ninety-nine they almost broke even, two thousand they showed a profit again, tiny in comparison, but a profit.”
 
Bob illustrated his information with printouts of financial data taken from Pinnacle Investments’ web pages.
 
He removed a sheaf of papers from the envelope he brought with him and passed them to Josh.

Briefly, Josh scanned the papers.
 
“So they got over the hump,” he said, offering a logical conclusion he didn’t believe.
 

“Yeah, but for their success their clients had to die when the trend was for them to live.
 
The rest of their competitors either went bust or were bought out.”

“How do they account for their success?”
 
Josh pushed his plate away.
 
The discussion had sapped his hunger.

“Are you finished with that?” Bob asked, nodding at Josh’s plate.

“Yeah, knock yourself out.”

Bob hijacked the remainder of the hash browns between his knife and fork, and hooked it onto his plate.
 
“You should never let food go to waste.
 
It should be a crime,” he said, and made a piece of Josh’s breakfast disappear.

“To answer your question, the official statement for their renewed fortunes is shrewd management.
 
They say their investment spread is much wider and not as vulnerable as their competition.
 
The laws have relaxed on who can make a viatical settlement.
 
It used to be the terminally ill, now it’s anyone over seventy-five.”

“But I was neither of those.”

“That’s right, but I got you in on your lifestyle as a pilot and recreational rock climber.”

“Yeah, I used to rock climb, but I stopped after Abby was born.”
 
Once an avid climber in the Sierras, he had given it up at Kate’s request.
 
Although he’d never had a serious fall, only a minor mishap that landed him two days in the hospital, she didn’t relish the thought of bringing up a baby with no father.

“Yeah, but you might take it up again and I told them there’s hereditary cancer on the male side.”

Josh studied his black coffee in his mug.
 
His reflection stared back, dark and distorted in the shimmering liquid.
 
Cancer was one of his greatest fears he tried to hide deep within himself and do his best to forget.
 
His father had died of prostate cancer at forty-nine when Josh was twenty-one and his paternal uncle had died of the same thing three years younger.
 
His grandfather had died at a similar age of lung cancer, but he’d been a life long smoker.
 
He didn’t know what had happened to his great-grandfather.
 
He didn’t dare find out.

“They took you because you were a high-risk candidate and worth a flutter in their opinion,” Bob added.

Their Southern waitress took the plates away.
 
Both men rejected the offer to see the menu again, but accepted coffee for now.
 
She refilled their mugs and promised to return with the bill later.

“Okay.
 
They say good management made them survive, but what do you say?” Josh said.

“Considering what has been happening to you, I think they’re killing their clients and the figures bear it out.
 
The average Pinnacle Investments viatical client lives two point four years, but their closest competitor’s rate is five years and getting longer.
 
They don’t care who their clients are because they’ll decide when it is time to collect.”
 
Bob paused.
 
“And you, my friend, are on their endangered list.”

“Bob, if it hadn’t been for that guy Jenks, I would tell you that you are talking out of your ass, but he said I was worth money when I was dead.
 
I’m only of value to three people—Kate, Abby and Pinnacle Investments and I don’t believe Kate and Abby are trying to kill me.”

Bob swigged his coffee.
 
“I contacted my buddies in the insurance trade to see if they’d done any business with Pinnacle Investments.
 
They had and several of them had clients die in unusual, but explicable accidents.
 
One of them crashed into a river and drowned.”

***

In the parking lot of the diner, Josh leaned against Bob’s Toyota and placed his folded arms on the roof of the car.
 
Bob was about to get into the car and asked, “What’s up?”

“We may know who’s doing this, but how do we stop it?
 
How do we call them off?
 
We’ve got nothing concrete to give the cops.”

“What do you suggest?” Bob asked.

“You buy my policy back.”

Bob frowned and shook his head.
 
“I don’t think they’d go for it.
 
It wouldn’t be in their best interests.”

“We’ll compensate them.
 
I have insurance coming on the Cessna that would cover their losses.”

“I don’t know, Josh.”

“You’re going to have to try.
 
It’s my only option.”

***

It seemed everyone in Sacramento had converged on the mall this Saturday morning.
 
The parking lot was a roadblock.
 
Parking had been a bitch, but Kate had found a space for the minivan after fifteen minutes.
 
Once out of the car, the sidewalks were a wave of people and she always seemed to be swimming against the tide.
 
She clutched hold of Abby’s hand and at the first opportunity, darted inside the mall.

In a lot of ways, Kate wanted the hustle and bustle of the mall.
 
The crowds and piped classical music made a welcome distraction from her unwanted thoughts.
 
Abby aided this desire.
 
The girl’s demands and blindness to the problems at home diverted Kate’s attention.
 
Without a distraction, Josh preoccupied her mind twenty-four seven.
 
It had become increasingly difficult to live with him.
 
She loved him, but she couldn’t cope with the curve balls his life kept throwing at them.
 
The two murder attempts, Mark Keegan’s death, police, mystery men, a television exposé and the lies were too much—the lies more than anything.
 
Josh had betrayed her, he’d said what he’d done was for the better good, but it didn’t make it easier to swallow.
 
If he’d lied about the bribe then what else was he keeping to himself?
 
The prospect of living on a knife-edge didn’t appeal—there were always lacerations.
 

Abby bounced up and down on the spot threatening to take off, restrained only by the hold of her mother’s hand.
 
“Where can we go?”
 

Kate looked down at her daughter’s beaming face and painfully smiled back.
 
“Anywhere you want, honey.”
 

Abby led Kate through a merry dance of stores.
 
Kate indulged Abby’s every whim, letting her play with toys and try on clothes.
 
Her daughter’s energy warmed her.
 
She found it easier to smile, to laugh, and be happy with every passing minute.

In the food court, they sat surrounded by their purchases, the result of today’s indulgences.
 
Although most of the bags were for Abby, she egged Kate on to splurge on herself.
 
Armed with a hotdog and milkshake, Abby munched and slurped happily.
 
Kate, with only a muffin and a latte, looked on in disbelief at her blissful daughter.
 
She wouldn’t normally let her daughter eat junk food, but today, she let it slide.

“Don’t think you can live like this every day,” Kate said.
 
“Today is a special day, okay?”

“Special?
 
How?” Abby asked, through hotdog-packed, chipmunk cheeks.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.
 
And I hope you’re not going to tell Wiener what you’re eating.”

Abby shook her head and made an especially large swallow.

Kate smiled.
 
“It’s a special day because we haven’t had one in a while so I thought we should have one.
 
So are you enjoying it?”

Abby beamed.
 
“You bet, mom.”
 

“I thought we could catch a movie but you can go to one more store before we go.
 
So where’s it to be?”
 
Kate cocked her head to one side.

“The Disney store,” she said, without a moment’s hesitation.

Kate nodded at the food.
 
“Are you finished with that?”
 

Abby made an extraordinarily large suck on the milkshake straw.
 
“I am now.”

Kate couldn’t help herself and laughed out loud and Abby joined in.
 
“Let’s go then,” Kate said.

Kate dumped their half-eaten food and milkshake in the trash, but kept hold of her latte.
 
Abby set off ahead at a half-running, half-walking pace towards the escalators for the Disney store on the upper level.
 
Kate told her daughter to slow down, which Abby did, reluctantly.
 
Mother and daughter hopped onto the empty, moving staircase.