T is for Trespass - Page 97/144

“So you don’t believe he’s being physically abused.”

“If you’ll bear with me, I’m getting to that. I also talked to Mr. Vronsky’s primary-care physician and the orthopedist who treated him for his shoulder injury. They say his physical condition’s stable, but he’s frail and unable to manage on his own. Mrs. Rojas said when she was hired, he was living in such filth she had to get a Dumpster…”

“What’s that have to do with it?”

“There are also questions about his mental competence. He hasn’t paid his bills in months and his doctors both feel he lacks the capacity to give informed consent for his medical treatment. He’s also unable to see to his daily needs.”

“Which is why she’s able to take advantage of him. Don’t you get that?”

Her expression became prim, nearly stern. “Please let me finish.” She shifted some papers uneasily. Her earnestness returned as though she were moving on to a far brighter note. “What I hadn’t realized, and you may not have been aware of this yourself, is that Mr. Vronsky’s situation has already come to the attention of the court.”

“The court? I don’t understand.”

“A petition for appointment of a temporary conservator was filed a week ago, and after an emergency hearing a private professional conservator was assigned to manage his affairs.”

“A ‘conservator’?” I felt like a half-witted parrot, repeating her words, but I was too astonished to do much else. I sat upright and leaned toward her, gripping the edge of the desk. “A conservator? Are you nuts?”

I could tell she was flustered because half of the papers slid from her manila folder and spilled out across the floor. In haste, she bent down and swept them into a pile, trying to talk while she gathered everything together. “It’s like a legal guardian, someone to oversee his health care and his finances…”

“I know what the word means. I’m asking you who? And if you tell me it’s Solana Rojas, I’ll blow my brains out.”

“No, no. Not at all. I have the woman’s name right here.” She looked down at her notes, her hands shaking as she turned pages right side up and arranged them in rough order. She licked an index finger and sorted through the file until she found what she was looking for. She picked up the paper and turned it toward me as she read the name. “Cristina Tasinato.”

“Who?”

“Cristina Tasinato? She’s a private professional…”

“You said that! When did this happen?”

“Late last week. I’ve seen the paperwork myself and it was properly executed. Ms. Tasinato worked through an attorney and she put up a bond, which she’s required to do by law.”

“Gus doesn’t need some stranger stepping in to take charge of his life. He has a niece in New York. Didn’t anyone talk to her? She must have some rights in this.”

“Of course. Under probate law, a relative has priority when it comes to an appointment as conservator. Mrs. Rojas mentioned the niece. Evidently, she spoke to her on three separate occasions, describing his condition and begging her to help. Ms. Oberlin couldn’t spare the time. Mrs. Rojas felt a conservator was imperative to Mr. Vronsky’s well-being…”

“That’s a complete crock of shit. I talked to Melanie myself and it wasn’t like that at all. Sure, Solana called her, but she gave no indication he was in trouble. If she’d known, Melanie would have flown out in a heartbeat.”

The prim mouth again. “Mrs. Rojas says otherwise.”

“Isn’t there supposed to be a hearing?”

“Ordinarily, yes, but in an emergency, the judge can go ahead and grant the request, pending investigation by the court.”

“Oh, right. And suppose the court does the same nifty job you did? Where does that leave Gus?”

“There’s no need to get personal. All of us have his best interests at heart.”

“The man can speak for himself. Why was this done without his knowledge or consent?”

“According to the petition, he has a hearing deficit in addition to periods of confusion. So even if there had been a regular court hearing, he wouldn’t have been competent to attend. Mrs. Rojas said you and his other neighbors don’t fully comprehend the kind of trouble he’s in.”

“Well, we sure as fuck know now. How’d this Tasinato woman get wind of it?”

“She might have been contacted by the convalescent facility or one of his physicians.”