Swan Dive

insurance salesman. What he looked like was a snake.
    Marsh came into the conference room dressed in old corduroy pants and a windbreaker with a chamois workshirt underneath. He had black hair, short but shaggy, with the kind of wispy mustache that insecure nineteen-year-olds affect just after basic training. In his thick-soled ”tanker” boots, he was three inches over my six two plus, but he was too lean and bony, as if someone had siphoned the flesh off him.
    Arnold said, ” Roy , I believe the only person you don’t know is Mr. Cuddy. John Cuddy, Roy Marsh.”
    Marsh sniffed and said, ”Who’s he?”
    I’d already prepared Chris for Arnold ’s reply. ”Mr. Cuddy is a private investigator looking after Hanna’s interests.”
    Marsh looked at me and sniffed again. ”You got any ID?”
    I showed him. His mannerisms were herky-jerky. I couldn’t read his eyes because of the opaque lenses on the aviator sunglasses he wore, but I had a pretty good idea what I’d see in them, especially if I could check for cartilage holes up his nostrils as well.
    Cocaine. And lots of it.
    Handing back my identification, he grinned at Hanna, who looked down. ”How you plan on paying for him?”
    Chris reddened but didn’t say anything. Marsh said, ”He sees those stretch marks, he won’t be too much interested in your interests anymore.”
    Chris coughed and said, ”Felicia, I really gotta make that closing. Can we—”
    ”Just hold on, boy! This is my financial future we’re going to be talking about, and I want things done nice and slow and right. So we all know where we stand. Got it?”
    It was pretty obvious where Hanna stood. But Chris was the lawyer, not me.
    Arnold said sweetly, ” Roy , why don’t you pull up a chair and we can get started.”
    Marsh having seized the iniative, Arnold exploited it. In detail, she went over Roy ’s financial statement, all typed out with elaborate exhibits. She even managed not to laugh when Chris produced his version of Hanna’s financials. As the talk centered on Marsh’s income, Roy looked bored. I don’t think I would have been bored.
    According to Arnold , Marsh made over $200,000 in each of the last three years working for the Stansfield Insurance Agency. That built the waterfront house at 13 The Seaway in Swampscott, for which Arnold had a written, certified appraisal of $ 150,000 against an outstanding mortgage of $40,000. The appraisal seemed low to me, but there was more to come: the BMW 633i that Marsh leased; the Escort station wagon, purchased for cash, that Hanna had taken; a twenty-six-foot inboard motor racer bought entirely on time; a snowmobile and trailer; and thousands of dollars of video and stereo equipment, hunting rifles, and club memberships. Rampant consumerism, but no real investments. Life in the fast lane.
    Chris looked at his watch and wanted to start talking about more immediate things, such as temporary support, but he had let Arnold set the conference agenda and now she insisted, gently but firmly, on sticking to it. I suspected Marsh’s late arrival had more to do with negotiating tactics than any business commitment he had, and Arnold ’s approach confirmed it. She was forcing Chris, because of his other appointment, to plod through the property stuff first, getting those long-term important matters resolved to Marsh’s advantage before even considering the shortterm issues.
    Arnold represented that Marsh was maintaining $250,000 in life insurance payable to Hanna for the benefit of Vickie. Chris didn’t scrutinize the certificate Arnold waved at him. Stupid. A guy in the business like Marsh could easily hoke one up. Chris should have realized that and insisted on a letter directly from the insuring company itself, postmarked at home office.
    Then Arnold committed Marsh to paying Chris’s legal expenses (”Would ten thousand be satisfactory, Chris?” ”Ten... oh, yeah, sure, so long as we don’t gotta go to trial over anything.” ”Oh, I’m sure we won’t. We’re all reasonable people here”). Roy was getting more bored, and impatient too, I expect because he had other things elsewhere that he wanted to deal with now that he didn’t need to worry about Chris’s efforts on his wife’s behalf.
    Marsh, however, had underestimated Hanna.
    Just as Chris was about to agree that Hanna would trade her half of the house for a cash buy-out of $55,000, Hanna spoke for the first time. ”No.”
    Chris and Arnold stopped