“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to bother you like this at the crack of dawn.”
“It’s not a problem. It’s not that early, Grady. I was awake, although the rest of the brood is still asleep. What’s up?” He recognized him as one of the patrolmen of the 34th Precinct when Brian’s father had been the commanding officer. He also knew Grady lived not that far away, on Payson Avenue in an apartment overlooking Inwood Hill Park.
“Believe it or not, I have to ask you if you are Brian Yves Murphy.”
“Is this some kind of a joke?”
“I wish,” Grady said, looking sheepish.
“How’s the family?” Brian asked. “Everybody staying well in this crazy time?”
“Yeah, we’re fine and healthy. Thank you for asking, but you are making this harder for me than it needs to be. Are you Brian Yves Murphy?”
“Okay, yes, I’m Brian Yves Murphy. Are you happy?”
“Hardly,” Grady said as he handed him the envelope. “After I retired from the NYPD five years ago, I sat around for a few months and drove my wife batty. You know the expression: ‘for better or worse but not for lunch.’ Then I took a job as a process server for Premier Collections. It’s kept me married and pays for the Jameson. I’m sorry, Brian.”
“So, I guess I’ve been served?” He looked at his name typed on the front of the envelope, and with his background in law enforcement he knew full well what it meant. The fact that Grady had become a process server didn’t surprise him in the slightest. Like being a commercial building security guard, being a process server was common for retired New York City patrolmen.
“I’m afraid so,” Grady said. “It’s a complaint and a summons. I apologize for being the bearer of bad news, but I couldn’t refuse just because I know you.”
“If you have a few minutes, let’s sit and chat,” Brian suggested while pointing down toward the ground. “Sorry I can’t invite you inside, so this will have to do.” He stepped out and sat on the single step leading up to his front door. Moving more than the mandated six feet away, Grady sat on his step and turned sideways. It was pleasant enough with the morning sun and mild temperature, surrounded by Brian’s shrub-and-tiger-lily-filled front yard.
After briefly leafing through the papers Grady had provided to confirm what they were, Brian replaced them in the envelope and looked up. “Please don’t feel in any way responsible for this. My getting served is not unexpected except for the speed involved. If this was going to happen, I thought I’d at least have the usual thirty days.”
“It’s been my experience that MMH Inwood has been progressively aggressive with collections over the last few years,” Grady said, “but with the pandemic throwing a monkey wrench into the hospital’s finances, it’s gone through the roof.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“To give you an idea, just since March they’ve had me running ragged, averaging ten to fifteen services a week. And I’m not the only Premier process server. There’s three of us.”
“Are you guys serving just people in Inwood?” he asked, taken aback by the numbers from just one community.
“The vast majority,” Grady said. “There’s always a few from Hudson Heights.”
“How do you know it’s the hospital behind the uptick and not the collections people themselves?”
“That’s easy. The hospital actually owns Premier Collections. They are part and parcel of the same organization.”
“You’re kidding?” Brian questioned, even more shocked by this than by the numbers. Learning that MMH Inwood was in the collection business meant that the hospital was even more predatory than he thought.
“I’m not kidding in the slightest,” Grady said. “It’s all the brainchild of the hospital CEO, Charles Kelley.”
“How do you know?”
Grady gave a short, sardonic laugh. “I know because he’s a cult figure around Premier Collections and with the hospital admin people, too. They all think he’s a financial genius. He’s also liberal with the MMH stock with higher-up employees, meaning, of course, I’ve been out of luck. I tell you, if I had any extra cash, I’d buy some of the MMH stock because I hear that it’s a winner, constantly going up.”
In an uncomfortable way, Charles Kelley and his tactics were sounding rather similar to Heather Williams’s business model.
“I’d like to meet this Charles Kelley sometime,” Grady continued. “I’ve heard his compensation is more than five million per year. Can you imagine? I think the only hospital CEO who makes more is the guy who runs the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. He gets over six million. It’s crazy.”
Knowing the ridiculous amount of money he owed from Emma’s seven days of hospitalization, he could now believe it rather easily. He’d never had any idea what an impressive gold mine medical care could be.
“So, what are you going to do about this situation?” Grady asked. “As a friend, I want to make sure you know you have to respond to the summons within thirty days or there will be a summary judgment against you.”
“Yeah, I know,” Brian said.
“Obviously I couldn’t help but see that MMH Inwood is suing you for almost one hundred and ninety thousand dollars. Who in your family needed hospitalization?”
“My wife, Emma,” he told him. “She caught a bad mosquito-borne illness while we were on Cape Cod. It isn’t contagious, if you are worried.”
“I’m not worried,” Grady said. “What a bummer. How is she doing?”
“So-so,” Brian admitted, unwilling to provide any specifics. “At least she’s home.”
“I’m glad to hear it. What’s the story with your health insurance? I heard you and your wife were with the ESU.”
“We were until we retired in December to start our own security company,” Brian said. He was getting tired of explaining. “When we retired, we lost our city insurance and were forced to rely on a short-term policy that’s not worth the paper it’s printed on. They aren’t contributing a penny.”
“Ouch,” Grady said. “Have you talked with a lawyer?”
“Not yet. That would cost more money.”
“Money well spent,” Grady said. “Take my word.”
“I think I’ll go back and try to reason with the MMH Inwood business office and come to some understanding.”
“From my vantage point the chances of that helping are piss poor. You need a lawyer, because Premier is dogged. I’m telling you: They won’t give up, and they’ll go after everything, including your house. By the way, this is one of the nicest houses in Inwood.”
“We were lucky to get it.”
“I’m serious about Premier being hard-nosed. You might know a neighbor of mine, Nolan O’Reilly.”
“I know the family,” Brian recalled. “What about him?”
“I had to serve him. He ended up losing everything, and his and his wife’s salaries have been attached from now until hell freezes over.”
“Was that a hospital bill, too?” he asked.
“It sure was, about twice yours. It involved surgery on their son, and to make matters worse, the kid died.”
“That’s awful.”
“I know a lawyer,” Grady continued. “He’s down on Broadway. A local kid, and he’s really good. I gave his name to my neighbor, and he fell over backward trying to help him.”
“Is this the neighbor who lost everything?” Brian asked.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“That’s not a very good advertisement for your lawyer acquaintance,” Brian countered.
“I know it sounds that way, but my neighbor had failed to respond to the original summons, and there had been a summary judgment. When that happens, it’s almost an impossible uphill struggle, so please respond!”