It ended with three boilerplate causes of action for breach of the California False Claims Act and a ritual demand for “damages in an amount to be proven at trial.”
The second document was a disclosure statement. This was where the action was. In the disclosure statement, Connor laid out everything he and Allie knew about the case: names, dates, dollar amounts, invoice numbers, estimates of recoverable damages—anything that might make DOJ like the case.
And they would like it. Connor had no doubt about that. This was as close to a perfect false claims case as he had ever seen. It had obvious fraud, lots of government money, and an in-state defendant with deep pockets. It would have been nice if Allie had been able to copy some more documents, but Connor could live without them and he suspected DOJ could too. The disclosure statement told a good story, and DOJ had learned to trust Devil to Pay’s stories.
By 3:00, he had the documents in final. Filing them with the superior court could wait, but he needed to get these to the Attorney General’s office by first thing tomorrow morning.
This morning. He sighed and closed his eyes.
He PDFed the complaint and disclosure statement and sent them to Max Volusca with a red-flagged covering e-mail that said, “Max, call me on my cell as soon as you get this. We may have a spoliation problem.”
Then he went home, where he fell asleep on the sofa with the cell phone next to his head.
Connor was more or less awake when his phone rang a few minutes before 8:30. “Morning, Connor,” Max’s voice boomed. “So, what was so urgent that you were sending me high-priority e-mails in the middle of the night? What’s the spoliation issue?”
“Hey, Max.” Connor rubbed gummy eyes and held the phone away from his ear. “Big new case. About twenty million in fraud, and that’s before trebling or penalties. Allie thinks the defendant may destroy documents as soon as they catch wind of your investigation. She heard someone from their legal department talk about having a shred first, ask questions later policy.”
Max snorted. “Yeah? Well, it’s tough to run a shredder when you’re wearing handcuffs. I’ll tell that to their president when we serve him with a subpoena.”
Connor chuckled and walked into the kitchen to start the coffeemaker as he talked. “I’m sure that’ll get his attention, but what about the account executives who are going to have their careers destroyed when this comes out? One of them may try to shred himself out of trouble or start wiping hard drives. Also, that person from legal who Allie overheard was saying they’d done it before to kill a case.”
“Hmmm. Yeah, that’s a problem.” Max was silent for a moment. The coffeemaker gurgled and the blessed aroma of fresh espresso curled around Connor. “I’ve got an idea. Can you get Allie to swear out a declaration repeating what you just told me?”
Connor smiled and poured himself a cup of thick black coffee. “I’ll have it to you by noon. Mind telling me what your idea is?”
“Can’t—this is a sealed investigation. Just watch the evening news tomorrow and find out with everyone else.”
Allie’s home phone (which Connor had had swept for bugs) rang and the computerized caller ID voice announced that “Norman, Connor” was calling. She popped up from the kitchen table, where she was busy on her laptop, and grabbed a handset. “Hi, Connor. What’s up?”
“Lots. I put together a complaint and disclosure statement yesterday and sent them to Max Volusca early this morning.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Wow, that’s fast. What’s the rush?”
“You kidding? This is a big case and the target has a history of document destruction. We had to get this into Max’s hands as fast as possible.”
She wiped sweaty palms on her jeans. “Okay, I was just a little surprised is all. I like to see the papers and sleep on them before we file.”
“Sorry about that. I’ll get you a copy ASAP
The second document was a disclosure statement. This was where the action was. In the disclosure statement, Connor laid out everything he and Allie knew about the case: names, dates, dollar amounts, invoice numbers, estimates of recoverable damages—anything that might make DOJ like the case.
And they would like it. Connor had no doubt about that. This was as close to a perfect false claims case as he had ever seen. It had obvious fraud, lots of government money, and an in-state defendant with deep pockets. It would have been nice if Allie had been able to copy some more documents, but Connor could live without them and he suspected DOJ could too. The disclosure statement told a good story, and DOJ had learned to trust Devil to Pay’s stories.
By 3:00, he had the documents in final. Filing them with the superior court could wait, but he needed to get these to the Attorney General’s office by first thing tomorrow morning.
This morning. He sighed and closed his eyes.
He PDFed the complaint and disclosure statement and sent them to Max Volusca with a red-flagged covering e-mail that said, “Max, call me on my cell as soon as you get this. We may have a spoliation problem.”
Then he went home, where he fell asleep on the sofa with the cell phone next to his head.
Connor was more or less awake when his phone rang a few minutes before 8:30. “Morning, Connor,” Max’s voice boomed. “So, what was so urgent that you were sending me high-priority e-mails in the middle of the night? What’s the spoliation issue?”
“Hey, Max.” Connor rubbed gummy eyes and held the phone away from his ear. “Big new case. About twenty million in fraud, and that’s before trebling or penalties. Allie thinks the defendant may destroy documents as soon as they catch wind of your investigation. She heard someone from their legal department talk about having a shred first, ask questions later policy.”
Max snorted. “Yeah? Well, it’s tough to run a shredder when you’re wearing handcuffs. I’ll tell that to their president when we serve him with a subpoena.”
Connor chuckled and walked into the kitchen to start the coffeemaker as he talked. “I’m sure that’ll get his attention, but what about the account executives who are going to have their careers destroyed when this comes out? One of them may try to shred himself out of trouble or start wiping hard drives. Also, that person from legal who Allie overheard was saying they’d done it before to kill a case.”
“Hmmm. Yeah, that’s a problem.” Max was silent for a moment. The coffeemaker gurgled and the blessed aroma of fresh espresso curled around Connor. “I’ve got an idea. Can you get Allie to swear out a declaration repeating what you just told me?”
Connor smiled and poured himself a cup of thick black coffee. “I’ll have it to you by noon. Mind telling me what your idea is?”
“Can’t—this is a sealed investigation. Just watch the evening news tomorrow and find out with everyone else.”
Allie’s home phone (which Connor had had swept for bugs) rang and the computerized caller ID voice announced that “Norman, Connor” was calling. She popped up from the kitchen table, where she was busy on her laptop, and grabbed a handset. “Hi, Connor. What’s up?”
“Lots. I put together a complaint and disclosure statement yesterday and sent them to Max Volusca early this morning.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Wow, that’s fast. What’s the rush?”
“You kidding? This is a big case and the target has a history of document destruction. We had to get this into Max’s hands as fast as possible.”
She wiped sweaty palms on her jeans. “Okay, I was just a little surprised is all. I like to see the papers and sleep on them before we file.”
“Sorry about that. I’ll get you a copy ASAP
Similar Books
