A furrow deepened between Brad's eyebrows. He grunted.
"When your mom tossed the garbage over the fence," I continued, "I was sitting in the backyard, worrying about it. Wondering who I should report it to. Jablonsky had a whole bunch of forms, but the ones I remember were Victory Mutual, Sun Securities, and New Century."
"Oh, man!" Brad fell back against the chair rail that divided the white-painted wainscoting from the blue and white striped wallpaper of his dining room. "You're not going to believe this, but Victory Mutual is one of my clients!" He swiped his fingers through his hair. “Tell you what. As soon as the nurse gets here, let me take you to meet Harrison Garvin. He's CEO of Victory Mutual. I think he'll be very interested in what you have to say."
After I okayed his plan, Brad seemed to lose all interest in putting together yearbooks. "I'm putting a kettle on for tea," he announced.
I gave the pile with a photo of Jan Falls doing cartwheels a friendly pat. Who am I to argue with a lawyer? "I second the motion," I said.
Just five hours later, at three in the afternoon, Brad Perry and I were ushered into Harrison Garvin's corner office on the top floor of the Garrett Building adjoining the nearly derelict Parole Plaza. Garvin's office afforded him a panoramic view of Annapolis Mall's vast, meandering architecture, as well as a bird's-eye view of the restaurant park on Jennifer Road, which had its advantages, I suppose, if one didn't feel like waiting in line at Red Lobster.
With a first name like Harrison, I expected Garvin to be tall and movie-idol handsome, but the man who rose to greet us was short-no more than five-foot-six or -seven-and stocky. His hazel eyes were enormous behind thick-lensed tortoiseshell glasses.
I told my story for the second time that morning, interrupted occasionally by Brad, who made an important point or two, while Garvin listened silently, his arms folded across his chest. "So," I said, winding it up, "I asked Brad what to do, and he brought me to you."
"I have half a mind," Garvin said, "to send you back to MBFSG, have you sign up for the policy and see where it goes once it reaches us. Those other two companies you mentioned." He flapped a hand. "Big red flag. Sun is incorporated in both Texas and Arizona where the laws on viaticals are very lax."
Brad was nodding in agreement.
"When Victory Mutual was young and aggressive," Garvin continued, "we might have been willing to overlook such details as physical exams, especially for the smaller policies, but not anymore. We've recently taken steps to minimize our risk-requiring blood and urine tests, for example-but it's not foolproof. Nothing ever is."
Garvin turned to Brad. "I wonder how these policies are getting in under the radar? I'd hate to think one of our underwriters was in on this scam."
Brad shrugged.
Garvin picked up his telephone and pushed a button. "Lisa, will you track down Donna Hudgins and ask her to come up here, please? Thanks." Garvin turned to me. "Donna's our head of Policyholder Services," he explained.
I was certain Donna Hudgins would be less than pleased at being tracked down and summoned to the principal's office, and I was right. When she arrived a few minutes later, Donna turned out to be an attractive woman in her late fifties or early sixties with short, stylishly cut gray hair. She wore a navy blue pants suit-any larger than a size two and I'd eat the brass barometer sitting on Garvin's credenza-rimless eyeglasses, and a prize-winning scowl.
Donna Hudgins managed to dredge up a smile from somewhere for Harrison Garvin, then turned her cool, ice blue gaze first on me, and then on Brad. I'd seen that look before. Someone's complained to the boss about some stupid-ass thing, and now, boy-oh-boy, the shit is going to hit the fan.
"Sit down, Donna," Garvin said.
Donna sat.
Garvin summarized for Donna what I'd just told him about Jablonsky. I was grateful. In the course of the day, I'd gone from wondering whether I should even mention Gilbert Jablonsky to thinking I should do my vocal cords a favor and tape record my story.
"Do we have a large number of policies that have changed hands recently?" Garvin wondered.
Donna, I noticed, had visibly relaxed. At least she'd stopped wringing her hands. "What with the reorganization and everything, I'm afraid I've been way too busy to notice."
Garvin frowned. "Donna, you are not the problem here, I assure you. I'm looking to you for a solution."
"I'm sure we can massage the software to get at that information eventually, but my God, Harrison, I simply don't have the time if we're going to meet our July first deadline! I'm swamped as it is."
"Allow me to make a suggestion." Brad rose from his chair and stood with his thigh touching Garvin's desk. "Hannah, here, isn't just my neighbor. She was, until quite recently, records manager at Whitworth and Sullivan."
Garvin's eyes darted from Brad's face to mine. "I've heard of them, of course."
"There's not much Hannah doesn't know about databases," Brad continued.
I felt my face grow hot. "My skills may be a tad out of date."
Garvin laughed out loud. "Not with the software we've been using! Do you know SQL?"
It all came back to me in a blinding flash. The long hours I'd spent writing SELECT column_name FROM table_name WHERE column_name BETWEEN value1 AND value2 ORDER BY … "Oh, yes," I assured him. "Quite well."
Garvin twiddled a pen between his middle and index finger while he considered me silently. "So, Hannah, would you have the time to help us out?"
"Oh, I'm sure Hannah is far too busy-" Donna Hudgins began, before Garvin cut her off with a flip of the retractor end of his pen.
"How long do you think it will take?" he inquired.
Donna shrugged. "I'm just guessing, of course, because I don't know what we'll find when we actually get into the database, but-" She squinted thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Three to four days."
Garvin grunted. "Sounds reasonable." He turned to me again. "How about it, Hannah? Do you have any time to devote to this?"
I nodded, already mentally rearranging my schedule for the next week. I'd start looking like a sheepdog, but I'd call Karen James and reschedule my haircut. The farmers' market could wait. I needed to pick up the dry cleaning and return books to the library, but nothing more urgent than that. "No problem," I said.
Garvin slapped his desk. "Okay, then. Donna, have somebody clear out a cubicle, give Hannah a computer and the information she needs to get going." He turned to look at me. "You'll be identifying viaticated policies, singling them out for a closer look."
Donna gulped. "What about HIPAA?"
Garvin turned his owl-like eyes on me. "Donna means the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996, or HIPAA. By law, our records have to be kept confidential."
Brad raised a finger, but Garvin, it seemed, had anticipated him. “Take Hannah down to Personnel," he instructed. “Tell them to sign her up as a consultant through our contract with PeoplePlus. That should take care of it."
"Now?" asked Donna.
"Absolutely. Now."
"How much do you charge?" Garvin asked suddenly, taking me completely off guard.
I named a ridiculous sum, nearly twice what my hourly rate had been at Whitworth and Sullivan.
Garvin didn't even flinch. "Fine."
"And I can set my own hours?" I inquired.
"Absolutely. We'll give you a security pass so you can get in and out of the building. Just let Donna know, more or less, when she can expect to see you."
Donna's gaze was icy. “I’d appreciate that."
Garvin flipped a couple of pages forward on his desk calendar. “Today's Thursday." He glanced up from the calendar to me. "Can you start on Monday?"