Chapter 12
Jarrod knew every one of the men at the table in the conference room. Sam Tate, Joseph Katz, David Lane, Gerald Schoen, and Jack Rickards – all lawyers, all a few years older than him, all who had once been in private practice but now were part time in practice and part time employed by the Bar as members of the Board of Conduct. They were the ones who developed and proposed ethical rules for attorneys in California. They had complaints against practicing lawyers investigated, then made recommendations about it to the courts. They met with their counterparts from other states and kept up to date on everything other jurisdictions were doing to keep attorneys honest and professional.
At least four of them were. Jarrod wasn't so sure about Rickards. Well, maybe he was sure but about the wrong things. It was Rickards who was in Dysart's pocket and had been for years. Everyone knew it, but he had Dysart's backing and the backing of two state representatives from San Francisco. Jarrod would have liked nothing better than to bring Dysart down right in front of Rickards and the four men who were not in Dysart's pocket. Jarrod had made his plans.
"Have a seat, Mr. Barkley," Tate said. Tate was chairman of the Board. He'd be running this meeting. He sat in the middle of the five men with a file on the table in front of him.
Jarrod sat, smiling just a little, saying, "I hope I can answer all your questions, gentlemen. I'm afraid I didn't get the complainant's filing he made last Tuesday, so I reviewed it in your offices yesterday. I must say, I wasn't that happy with the lack of specificity about his charges."
"I can honestly say that we weren't either," Tate said. "But it is what it is and he has supplemented it. We'll be talking about that in a few minutes. Knowing that, would you like to make an opening statement? This isn't a court, but we would like to hear your thoughts right from the start."
"I'd be pleased," Jarrod said, wary about the new supplement Dysart filed but not willing to be derailed from his own agenda and letting Dysart's agenda take over. "I am eager to bring you up to date on some things that have happened since the complainant's filing on Tuesday. First, let me assure you that the man who broke into my office, assaulted me and my brother and stole my files, has been arrested here in Sacramento."
Eyes widened. Tate said, "You're sure he's the man."
Jarrod nodded. "He's confessed. His name is Sydney Case. You may know him. He works over at The Bar, a stockboy."
"How in the world did he come to go to Stockton to rob you? Has he said?"
"To some extent," Jarrod said. "He said he was hired to steal my files, and he took every file under the letter D." Jarrod gave Rickards a look then, before going on. "He was hired by a man named Cal LeBeau, who just yesterday was arrested in San Francisco for trying to break into my office there."
Eyes grew even wider. The men on the Board started looking at each other.
Jarrod went on. "Mr. LeBeau is being brought here today to be questioned by police who are holding Mr. Case. Mr. Case has described Mr. LeBeau as the man he gave my files to after he stole them in Stockton. I expect he'll make a firm identification when he sees Mr. LeBeau today. Then we may be able to get to the why behind the thefts."
Tate gave a sigh. "Let's not get into speculation yet, then. Do you have anything further before we begin our questions?"
"No," Jarrod said. "I will answer as honestly and fully as I can, but do bear in mind that if your questions get into areas that involved attorney client privilege between me and my clients, I will have to decline to answer."
"Of course. The complaint is based on the idea that your files were not kept securely and confidential information has been allowed to get out. What do you say to that?"
Jarrod described how he kept his files locked unless was there in the office using them, but then said, "Since the complainant was not explicit about what information he thinks got out, I can't comment to that. I can only tell you that the only information on the complainant that I had was six years old and involved a charge of assault I represented him on back then. I have not represented him since and had no more recent information about him in my files. None at all."
"The complainant made a second filing this morning," Tate said.
"I understand, but I haven't seen that."
"I'll read it to you," Tate said. He pulled a paper out of the file in front of him, and he read it out loud. It described in more detail what Jarrod supposedly had disclosed. Tate finished up with, "He claims you have disclosed this information improperly, and I quote this about your representation of him six years ago. 'Mr. Barkley has claimed I told several lies concerning his relationship with your complainant. He claims getting the truth out of me is akin to wrestling with a big, fat, slippery fish.'" Then Tate said, "Do you have any response to this?"
Jarrod found it both alarming, and enlightening. "Yes, I deny disclosing any information that passed between me and Mr. Dysart six years ago. Moreover, the last sentence you read. I wrote that myself, six years ago, word for word. I put it in my file and it never left there. I never said it to anyone, anywhere, especially not to Mr. Dysart. The other information Mr. Dysart claims I disclosed was in that file and nowhere else."
The men looked surprised again, all of them, even Rickards. "You admit you wrote that last part, word for word?" Tate said.
"It was in the file I had on Mr. Dysart, the one that was stolen," Jarrod said. "Those are my thoughts and my words, and they'd have been found only in that file."
"You never sent these words to Mr. Dysart, or to anyone else?"
"No, Mr. Tate, I never did," Jarrod said. "Those thoughts are not confidential matters between Mr. Dysart and me. They are my opinions as to his veracity, and quite frankly I've had no dealings with Mr. Dysart in the past six years, and no reason to discuss anything about him with anyone else. He got those words from my stolen file. I never disclosed any of that to another person. In fact, I haven't even discussed anything with anyone about Mr. Dysart until he made this complaint, and even lately I disclosed nothing from his file, ever."
Rickards suddenly spoke up. "How can you be sure they were the words from your file? How can you remember something you wrote six years ago?"
"I chose those words very carefully when I wrote them down and put them in Mr. Dysart's file," Jarrod said. "Gentlemen, I must be frank. Mr. Dysart was one of the most difficult clients I ever represented, because getting to the truth with him was a constant struggle, like wrestling with big, fat, slippery fish. And those are the words you just read to me. Those words appear only in the file that was stolen from my office."
"Suppose the complainant can provide proof that you did use those words about him elsewhere – " Rickards said.
Jarrod cut him off. "Then I would call him a liar, and I would call anyone who backed him up a liar. He got those words from the file stolen from my office, and quite frankly, gentlemen, after the police question Mr. LeBeau today, I think we may have some evidence that Mr. Dysart is behind the theft from my office."
Rickards blew up. "That's slander, Mr. Barkley!"
Jarrod met him head on. "You know it's not, Mr. Rickards. I'm merely speculating, not lying. If there is no evidence, then there is none, but I believe Mr. LeBeau will give us some and you will know I have spoken the truth."
"You're walking a fine line, Mr. Barkley," Tate said.
"I'm defending myself," Jarrod said, "and I'm telling you the truth about the theft from my office and about the words you just read to me, that the complainant Mr. Dysart could only have known about if he read that stolen file. I deny ever using those words elsewhere about anyone at all, and I will deny it under oath if the time comes."
Four of the men looked at each other, but Rickards continued to glare at Jarrod. Jarrod just glared back.
XXXXXXX
Out on the street, Nick was beginning to get bored, and stiff. He had nursed a cup of coffee in the café but his back started to bother him so he got up and came outside. Now his back hurt from standing too long, so he moved around, smoking a cigar, but he did not stray far from the building Jarrod had gone into. He kept watching, looking for Dysart or his muscle men, but he didn't see them. He had an itchy feeling that they might be somewhere secluded watching him, though.
They still had not shown themselves by the time Jarrod came out. He looked exhausted – and angry. "How'd it go?" Nick asked.
"About like I expected," Jarrod said.
"Did they disbar you?"
"No, they wouldn't be doing that today. They'll ask me for more information, or maybe to come back again. I told them I'd like to come back to them after Jason Emerson finishes his investigation, if it's necessary, but if they're inclined to find my way they may just give a written recommendation to the court to dismiss the complaint," Jarrod said. "They just thanked me and ushered me out. But."
"But what?"
Jarrod smiled a little. "I have proof Dysart saw that file that was stolen from my office. He filed a follow-up to his filing last Tuesday, and he used words exactly from that stolen file. He couldn't have gotten them anywhere else. It was a bad move on his part. They can't even be considered confidential matters between me and him. I just called him a big, fat, slippery fish."
Nick chuckled a little. "I guess he just didn't like that. He took a big chance, though, using words from that file."
"He probably thought I wouldn't remember putting them in there and only in there," Jarrod said. "If he comes up with them from somewhere else, I guaranteed the Board he'd be lying, and I'd swear it under oath. Which I will when we get to his trial for having my office broken into and my files stolen. Have you seen any trouble out here?"
"No, but I've sure felt like somebody was watching me from somewhere," Nick said.
"Well, let's head over to the police station and see if we get followed," Jarrod said. "I'm anxious to tell Jason what happened here this morning. Maybe it'll help him get LeBeau to put the lid on this whole thing."