I returned to my office with the file, closed the door, sat down at my desk and swivelled my chair around so that I could look out of the window. I sat staring out at the city for some time.
Eventually, I turned my chair back around, read the Complaint again, and started an internet search for names. I started with Samantha van Eyck, and I learned that she was an actress. There were numerous photos of a good-looking young woman, several notices and play bills relating to productions in which she had appeared, and reviews of the same in provincial newspapers, all very favourable: ‘one to watch’; ‘up and coming’; ‘deserves a chance to show off her range’; that kind of thing. I also found a bio giving her educational details; she was a graduate of the University of Virginia, majoring in theatre and performing arts, graduating cum laude; the bio also gave the name of her agent. I felt some sense of disappointment. What had I been expecting?
I suppose I was still clinging to some hope that this might be a joke, that she was a flake who couldn’t be taken seriously. But there was nothing to suggest that the Samantha van Eyck I was reading about was a flake, or that she would have any reason to play a joke like this. In any case, she would never have talked Kiah Harmon into going along with it. If Kiah had even suspected that it was all some kind of hoax or publicity stunt, rather than a viable lawsuit, she would have shown Samantha van Eyck the door in a New York minute. There were some lawyers, attention-seekers or simply buffoons, who would file all kinds of ridiculous lawsuits without even thinking about the time and money they were wasting. I spent enough of my time getting their lawsuits dismissed to know that. But that wasn’t Kiah Harmon.
Then I searched for Jacob van Eyck. There wasn’t a lot. There was a Wikipedia entry that said little except that further information of a factual nature was needed to update the entry. That was something of an understatement. Beyond giving his dates of birth and death – 1730 and 1812 – there was almost nothing. The article noted that he was a Pennsylvania landowner and reputed friend of George Washington, and that he had sacrificed – interesting choice of word, I thought – all his worldly goods in the cause of the War of Independence, in return for which he had been spurned and ignored by an ungrateful nation. This had to be a contribution by some self-serving descendant who would be joining in the class action before long.
Other than that, there were a few old local newspaper articles. From time to time, it seemed, some family member or other would persuade a congressman to take some interest in the alleged loans, and naturally, the congressman concerned took advantage of the situation to create a photo op, allowing the local press to quote him on the subject of patriotism, self-sacrifice, and other American virtues, and how shameful the government’s treatment of Jacob van Eyck was. It reads well, but you only have to be in Washington for five minutes to know that it is completely meaningless.
It is language crafted for the congressman by an experienced aide, and it is in code. It says to the powers that be: don’t worry about it; I have to create a bit of a fuss to keep my constituent happy, but it’s not going to come to anything. Once the photo op had come and gone, the congressman would return to Washington, assuring his constituent that he would do all in his power to right the wrong. If the constituent pressed, he would receive further assurances that the matter was in hand. Eventually, either the constituent would give up, or he would be informed of the congressman’s deep and most sincere regret that despite his best efforts, nothing could be done. There was one exception. In the mid-1960s a congressman from Georgia had actually proposed an amendment to the budget for the relief of the van Eyck family to the tune of $20,000. How he came up with that figure, which bore no resemblance to any figure mentioned by anyone else, heaven only knows. In any case, the amendment died in committee and was never resurrected.
In none of these sources did I find any reference to the actual existence or whereabouts of any loan certificate with the name of Jacob van Eyck on it. It was tempting to continue searching, but this afternoon I would have to give Harry a bit more than internet searches to put in the report that would eventually reach the Oval Office. There was research to be done and strategy formulated. As if by a sixth sense, Ellen made a timely entrance.
‘Well, this is fun,’ she said brightly.
She was clutching a copy of the Complaint, from which I deduced that Harry had already indoctrinated her about the protocol, and I’m sure it was quite a lecture. If so, it hadn’t fazed her. Ellen Matthews was young and energetic and, as I had told Harry, exactly what I needed for this case. She had graduated high in her class from the University of Denver law school, and still thought enough like a student to get her head around problems like 200-year-old war loans. She looked young, too. She was dressed in the same austere dark suit all government lawyers wear, but somehow she looked too young for it. I couldn’t quite work out why. Perhaps it was that she was still a bit full in the face, as if she hadn’t outgrown it yet; or that her make-up was still experimental in some ways; or perhaps it was the way she moved with all her energy. But it still looked as though the suit should belong to an older sister.
‘This is your idea of fun?’ I asked, smiling. ‘At your age? You need to get out more.’
She laughed. ‘No, this is so off the wall; it’s wild. It’s the kind of problem law school professors give their students to drive them crazy, and make them wish they’d chosen psychology or anthropology instead of law.’
‘My thought exactly. That’s why I asked for you.’
‘I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Harry said you know her attorney?’
‘Yes. I know her quite well.’
‘Well, good for her for taking the case. I don’t think many lawyers would.’
‘No, well, that’s Kiah,’ I said. ‘And we’re not going to underestimate her. She knows her stuff, and the one time I tried a case against her she handed me my head on a silver platter.’
She laughed again. ‘I like this woman already. I can’t wait to meet her.’
She took a seat in front of my desk.
‘So, what can I do?’
‘Well first,’ I replied, ‘I want you to look at the history of these war loans. I assume there must be quite a lot written about them. According to the Complaint, the Continental Congress laid down a procedure for issuing loan certificates and repaying the loans. So there must have been proceedings in Congress, reports from the loan commissioners, and so on. There have to be some records of what loans were made and how much was repaid. We are talking about a lot of money, and they must have been administering the loans long after the war ended.’
‘There’s a quicker way than tracking down the original records,’ she suggested. ‘Historians must have documented the work of the loan offices. It’s an important part of the history of the war. The academics must have been all over it. There will be articles and books. That could save us a lot of time.’
‘Good. Start there. But at some point we may need the original records. I am assuming that somewhere there is a collection of surviving loan certificates, paid or unpaid. We need to know where that collection is and how we can access it.’
‘Presumably they would have been stored in the Department of the Treasury originally,’ she suggested, ‘but today they are probably in the National Archives, I would think.’ She paused to write herself a note. ‘But we can’t assume anything. When did this guy van Eyck die?’
‘In 1812,’ I replied.
‘Right. And what happened in 1814?’
I nodded. ‘The Brits burned Washington.’
‘Yes, including the Treasury, and we lost a lot of documents. Who knows what we still have from 1812? I’ll check. What else?’
‘That will keep you busy for now,’ I said. ‘I need you to check in with me every day and keep me up to date with where you are. I’m sure Harry told you that we will be reporting up the chain of command on a daily basis?’
‘He did. We are reaching the dizzy heights, aren’t we?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘and we’d better be ready for them. I’m going to make a start on the law, and try to figure out some kind of strategy for handling the case, starting with filing our initial paperwork. Any suggestions welcome.’
She looked at me for a moment with that bright law student look of hers.
‘Well, only one thing has come to mind so far. It’s so obvious, I almost hate to mention it.’
I stared back at her. I had a feeling I was about to feel stupid, but for the life of me, I couldn’t make my mind click into the right gear. She hesitated.
‘I’m not trying to be cute, Dave. I’m sure you and Harry have already talked about it.’
‘Humour me,’ I said.
‘OK. If these loans were made, they were made well over 200 years ago, yes?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s the limitations period in the Claims Court?’
I sighed.
‘Six years,’ I replied helplessly.