Chapter7
SEVEN
Honolulu, Hawaii -- Hawaii-Five-O
THANK YOU FOR
coming in, Mr. Bishop. You’re one of those fender bender people on Oahu who got a letter before it happened, right?” Newman was looking at the Post-it note the sergeant had scrawled.
“That’s correct,” Bishop said.
“Well, then,” Newman looked up at him and said, “what can I do for you?”
“I don’t know if it’s important,” Bishop started, “but I got another letter yesterday, apparently from the same guy. It has $5,000 cash with it. I brought it all in in case you wanted to see if it was counterfeit or wanted to check the serial numbers.”
“Let’s have a look,” Newman said, as he reached across his desk for the envelope.
Dear Mr. Bishop,
Now that you’ve experienced what it’s like to be dealt with unjustly (my apologies) in the form of an accident that wasn’t your fault -- you didn’t do anything to deserve it, yet you’re still dealing with the aftermath -- I want you to experience what it’s like to be made whole again (or as whole as you can be made under the circumstances).
It’s more than likely that your insurance company will pay for the damages both to your car and to any cars or posts or mailboxes you may have damaged. The enclosed money is to help offset the inconvenience this whole experience has caused you.
In the future, I’ll show you how you caused a much larger injustice to occur and offer you a tangible way to right the wrongs that resulted from that injustice. For now, enjoy what might be termed your cash reward for inadvertently participating in this little exercise.
Sincerely,
Dave Ruskjer
“Priority mail from Chattanooga, Tennessee,” Newman said, as he examined the postmark.
"So, Mr. Bishop, what injustices have you perpetrated lately?” Newman was smiling with his hands folded in front of him. Bishop looked stunned, like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I’m sorry,” Newman said, “I was being facetious. Seriously though, can you think of anything you may have done to this guy that might make him feel like some sort of injustice had occurred?”
“I’ve given that some thought.” Bishop recovered slightly. “The only thing I can think of is when I served on a jury that convicted a guy of running a Ponzi scheme at the end of last year.”
“Do you happen to recall his name?” Newman asked.
“No.” Bishop was beginning to look like he’d rather be somewhere else.
“When was that again?” Newman prodded.
“Last month of last year, I think,” Bishop all but whispered as Newman took copious notes. “The trial lasted three-and-a-half weeks. We took two days to deliberate. If you ask me, the whole thing was a colossal waste of time and money.”
“Is there anything else you can remember about the defendant?” Newman asked.
“He seemed like an OK fella," Bishop offered. “Courteous. Polite.” He paused before continuing. “But what can you really know about someone you’ve only known for a few days.”
“Well, I want to thank you again for coming in,” Newman said as he fumbled for something in his shirt pocket. “I have your contact information. If you think of anything else, here’s my card.”
As Bishop was walking away, Newman yelled, “Johnson? Get in touch with the other fender benders and see if they got another letter with money in it.”