"So you used a bank foreclosure notice as leverage in a land negotiation," Margaret said. "Without establishing the legal basis for foreclosure."
Tom's face shone under the ceiling lights. "I wouldn't characterize it that way."
"How would you characterize it?"
He looked toward Leonard for rescue and received none. I could almost hear the mental calculations taking place around the table. They had thought they were dealing with a man who lacked the resources to challenge them. Now the evidence was too precise for another reassuring smile.
Margaret asked that the bank halt all adverse actions relating to my property and Ms. Kowalski's mortgage while outside compliance counsel reviewed the records. Tom agreed with suspicious speed.
"I also want the correspondence that led to these notices preserved," I said. "Not just the notices themselves. Every instruction, approval, servicing change, and communication with Ms. Hartwell's companies."
"Some material may be confidential," Leonard replied.
"Then preserve it confidentially. The fact that something is embarrassing doesn't make it disposable."
After the meeting, Janet caught up with me near the lobby doors. She looked more exhausted than she had the previous week. "Mr. Blackstone, I didn't mean for anybody to lose a home."
"Did you know Ms. Kowalski made her payments?"
"I knew there were unresolved postings," she said. "I was told not to interfere until the association's review was complete."
"By whom?"
She looked over her shoulder. "Mr. Ames. And sometimes Ms.
Hartwell called directly. She always spoke as if everybody had already agreed. If you asked for approval in writing, she'd say the paperwork was on its way."
"Then tell that to the independent investigators," I replied. "Especially the parts that make your own decisions look bad."
She pressed her lips together, perhaps disappointed that I hadn't promised her protection in exchange for a confession. I couldn't offer immunity or erase the choices she had made. But I could insist that anyone willing to tell the truth be heard fairly. Margaret later confirmed that Janet had requested a meeting with outside counsel, which was the first sign that the bank's culture of unquestioning compliance with Vivian might be beginning to crack.
Howard arrived at the farm that evening with two laptops and a canvas bag full of sandwiches. He had brought a forensic accountant named Lena Ortiz, who had spent most of her career reconstructing transactions after corporate collapses. Lena was compact, direct, and unimpressed by the sort of expensive jargon developers used to describe ordinary borrowing. She set her computer beside my great-grandfather's ledger and told me that if I wanted the truth, I would have to tolerate ugly numbers.
For the next several hours they walked me through Hartwell Meadows' financing structure. Vivian had formed one company to own the remaining land, another to manage construction, and several more to hold rights to common facilities and future commercial plans. Intercompany payments traveled from one entity to another until the same money appeared to be several kinds of revenue. Loans were refinanced before their weaknesses became obvious, and each refinancing brought another optimistic appraisal, another set of fees, and another personal guarantee.