“I’m a relative by extension,” I said. “I’ve been asked by Melanie’s sister to look into the details regarding the structured settlement.”
“Then you’ll have to set up an appointment through the proper channels,” Unger said, “and that will take some time. You’ll have to file the proper documents as well.”
“What documents would those be?” I asked.
“I’m sure you can appreciate it’s not my job to explain the law to you. If you don’t understand the procedures involved, I suggest you hire your own attorney.”
“You don’t appear to be very supportive of the family,” I said.
“Terrible tragedy,” Unger said, “but there’s nothing anyone can do about the annuity. Believe me, I wish I could, but the language in the contract is quite precise and has stood the test of time.”
“Aunt Hazel said Greg only received one payment before the accident.”
“Not true,” he said. “The family received three payments.” Then he said, “Wait, you pulled that out of your ass just now, didn’t you?”
I admitted it. Then I said, “Let me see if I can save us both the trouble of a visit. I have a theory.”
“I’ll entertain a hypothetical,” Unger said, “provided it’s a short one.”
“Suppose I win ten million dollars in the state lottery.”
“Go on.”
“I get a lump sum payment of ten million and use one million of it to pay off my outstanding loans. I look for a way to invest the balance. My attorney tells me about an annuity he’s found that’s offered by a privately funded group of investors from California.”
Unger had been saying, “Uh huh,” to move me along, but when I said, “California,” he suddenly became silent. I continued, “The lawyer says the return is astronomical, three times what I can get anywhere else. Not only that, but I’ll get this huge monthly payment for the rest of my life! If I die before receiving the first month’s payment, my wife gets the annuity payment for the rest of her life. But somewhere in the fine print, the contract says if my wife and I both die after receiving at least one payment, the entire principal is forfeited to the company. That sound about right?”
We were both silent awhile until I said, “How much did they pay you?”
“I beg your pardon?” Unger asked, working to put on a show of great indignation.
“Joe DeMeo,” I said. “How much commission did he pay you to place the contract, to sell out your own client?”
“I don’t have to listen to this!”
“You signed their death warrant,” I said.
“I’m going to hang up now,” Unger said.
