Higgins' jaw and pen dropped simultaneously. Doug saw the shock on his face while Scott continued.
"Your mortgage at 115 Central Park West is $2,754.21. Your portfolio is split between, let's see, CD's, T-Bills, the bank acts as your broker, and you have three safety deposit boxes, only one to which your wife, Helen Beverly Simons, has access. You make a deposit every two weeks . . ."
"Stop! How the hell do you know . . ."
"Jeez you make that much? Can I be a lawyer too, huh? Please Mr.
Higgins?"
Higgins threw his chair back and stormed around his desk to grab the papers from Scott. Scott held them away.
"Let me see those!" Higgins demanded.
"Say please. Say pretty please."
"Scott!" Doug decided enough was enough. Scott had made his point. "Cool it. Let him have them."
"Sure, boss!" He grinned widely at Doug who could not, for reasons of professional conduct, openly condone Scott's perform- ance, no matter how effective it was.
Higgins looked at the top pages from where Scott was reading. He read them intently, looking from one to the other. Slowly, he walked back to his desk, and sat down, nearly missing the chair because he was so engrossed.