More Moore?

One of Eli’s greatest lessons in life was when he got ripped off playing Diablo on line. He had carefully built up his characters after hours and weeks of playing, gained experience and even purchased items for his characters on ebay. A kid in northern California offered him items in exchange for access to his account. When he went back into the game his good characters were gone. If it seems too good to be true, he learned, it probably is.

I somehow survived 2002 and by early 2003 I had work again and invoices were paid on a more timely basis. Deeper in debt than I had been in 2001, I earned enough money to cover my basic expenses. Since I had changed my telephone number I no longer got harassing calls from creditors and I actually answered my telephone whenever possible, “Chosa Investigations.”

About mid year I received a telephone call from Bill Moore. He told me he knew how strange it might seem that he was calling me. We hadn’t spoken since 2000. But, he explained, a situation came up and I was the first person he thought of. He said his daughter worked for a law firm in Pasadena and the attorney who owned the firm, Alan Green, had just lost his principle investigator. The investigator, an ex-PD, unexpectedly suffered a heart attack and died. Through his daughter, Moore said, he recommended me to Green as a replacement. He gave me Green’s telephone number and told me to stick it to him because he could certainly afford whatever I’d be asking. I thanked Bill and hung up the telephone scratching my head.

I called Green’s office and spoke with Bill’s daughter. Through her an appointment was scheduled for an interview the following day.

Green’s office was walking distance, just a couple of blocks on Marengo Street, from my apartment. The office is housed in a turn of the century, two story, converted residence. The inside was very nicely decorated with wood paneling, hardwood floors and antiques. I met Bill’s daughter, a very pretty lady in her mid twenties with a great smile. She buzzed Green and then told me to have a seat, that he would be with me in a few minutes. Ten minutes later I was shown into Green’s office.

Green introduced himself with a warm handshake. We sat down and Green, in his mid to late fifties with a slight build, explained how he had lost his investigation, how sad it was, but that he needed to fill the investigators position as soon as possible. He told me Bill Moore highly recommended me for the position. He wanted to know what I charged and I told him $55 per hour plus expenses. He said that seemed reasonable and he asked how soon I could start. I told him it would take me about a week to finish up the few cases I had. He said that was fine and he asked if I had any questions. I did. I had many questions.

I learned Green’s law office had three attorneys total, that he started his career as a prosecuting attorney for the Justice Department in Los Angeles where he worked for about 12 years before starting his own firm about 14 years ago, and that now he mostly defended individuals in Federal Court who were charged with white collar crimes. At present his firm had over 100 active cases.

I asked Green if he knew about the nature of my association with Bill Moore. He said he did and he wasn’t fazed by talk about ufos, aliens, conspiracy theories or black military programs. I told him I was deeply in debt and not credit worthy. That didn’t bother him. Finally, I told him all I had done for the past 20 years was defend civil litigation and investigate people for fraud. All he wanted to know was how soon I could start.

Green then told me he had a very important case that needed immediate attention. He said he had filed suit against the State of New Mexico on behalf of the parents of a boy who had died after drinking contaminated water from a lake in a remote recreational area. He said the State knew the water was hazardous to drink and they failed to post warning signs. He wanted me to fly out as soon as possible, grab a rental car and drive to the remote recreational area, take photographs, and then interview 13 witnesses. After that, he said, he had enough work to keep me busy full time. I told Green I had to think about his offer for a couple of days. He said that would be all right, we shook hand and I left.

The more I thought about Green’s offer, the weirder it seemed. And, admittedly, with all that had happened to me I was still somewhat paranoid. I asked myself if it was a dream come true, a chance to fully recover, or was it a dream just too good to be true? Green had worked for the Feds and he certainly had some current association with the Chief of the Criminal Division who I had met in 2000. Recall that Richard Doty, Bill Moore’s complicitious AFOSI partner was in New Mexico running the state police. Now, out of nowhere Moore calls and I am invited to visit a remote area in New Mexico. For what? A friend once told me that the best place to bury a body is beneath a protected, endangered cactus. The roots are shallow and no one would ever dig it up for fear of receiving a huge fine. Too many coincidences. It didn’t feel right then and it still doesn’t feel right.

Two days later one of Green’s attorneys called me on behalf of Green asking if I’d made a decision about the job offer. He said Green had interviewed a number of eligible candidates for the position, but Green wanted to get my decision first. I had already talked myself out of the job and I told him I would have to decline the offer. After I hung up I wrote Green a letter and explained I couldn’t see myself defending white collar criminals when my entire career had been spent doing the opposite.

Was it a mistake? Probably. Maybe. I just don’t know.