Murder Junction

Attorney Jamison Hart, a red-faced, balding mountain of a man, looked across his massive oak desk at an assistant he considered small potatoes, and drummed his short, thick fingers impatiently.  In just over three weeks, one of the biggest real estate deals he had ever taken a crack at would slip through those same fat fingers. 

As a practical point, the aging lawyer knew the person seated across from him stood almost no chance of success; far more experienced people in his office had already failed. 

Hart was willing to listen to his assistant’s proposition on the outside chance that there might be something to it, but he really did not expect much…but then again, David had slain Goliath.  

Making the claim, “I know I can do this,” the assistant’s voice oozed smug self-confidence.

Hart exploded, “Better people than you have failed to get that property.  What makes you so cock sure you can do it?”  With steely eyes and a hardened mouth, Hart studied his younger colleague for several seconds, and then said, “The whole deal hinges on getting that land.  If we can’t get the entire parcel for Yantzing by the end of the month, the deal’s off.” 

“I understand that, Mr. Hart,” the assistant said calmly.  “Yantzing wants the extra land in its back pocket now, for expansion later.”

“That’s exactly right,” Hart boomed.  “They don’t want to be locked into just the acreage from the biggest lot, even though it’s big enough to float the mall right now.  This thing’s gonna grow, and grow fast…being right off I-91, how can it miss?”  He pounded his mammoth fist sharply on the desk to punctuate his sentence. 

“It can’t” Hart’s cohort said, totally undaunted by his gruff manner.  “I’ve seen the traffic flow charts.  I-91 is one of the busiest highways in New England.  ‘Vermont Country Estates Mall’ has the potential to be the biggest thing to hit that area in years…it’ll put Maple Grove Junction on the map…”

“Only if we can get the entire parcel” Hart interrupted, throwing his hands up in the air.  He could not believe that his firm was blowing this, but already he had heard jokes that Hart & Associates had snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. 

“Mr. Hart, I told you I could handle this.  I’ve got some information that will change things…”

Jamison Hart cut in quickly.  “What kind of information?” he demanded.

“It’s a long story…difficult to explain…”

“Explain it…we’ve got all night,” the senior partner barked. 

Smirking at his underling, he added, “If it’s good enough, I may send one of my other people up there.  So far, they’ve done nothing but waste postage, and run up the office phon