Chapter 2
It had started out as an ordinary day, and indeed, as far as Carol was concerned, it ended as an ordinary day. She had denied about eighteen claims that day, receiving a rich sense of satisfaction from the denials.
Her most satisfying denial came at about three in the afternoon. In this instance it had to do with a self-employed architect by the name of Randolph Forrest. According to the folder Carol had on Forrest, he was forty-one years old, had been stricken with pneumonia two months earlier in February, was supposedly forced to lie flat on his back while recovering, and claimed that being unable to work, he wanted some money from the Credential Insurance Company. Granted he had a disability policy with the company; granted he always paid his premiums on time; granted he had never made a claim against the company in the seventeen years he had been paying the premiums. However in spite of letters from the man's physician, it was Carol's opinion that an architect sat at his drawing board all day, and didn't have to brave the elements. Therefore, in spite of the pneumonia, there was no reason why Mr. Forrest would not have been able to continue with his normal activities. Ergo she had denied the claim.
When she received the phone call at three in the afternoon, she was, as always, acidly sweet to the man on the other end of the phone as she turned on the recorder.
"Miss Mallatesta speaking."
"Miss Mallatesta, this is Randolph Forrest. I'm calling in regard to claim number DI804 389."
"Just a moment," she told him, pressing a button on her computer screen, seeing the claim light up. However she made the man wait as if she was going through her files.
After making him wait for more than a minute, she said, "Oh yes, Mr. Forrest. According to your records there is no reason why you claim total disability since even in bed, if necessary, you would have been able to pursue your occupation."
"That's not quite true, Miss Mallatesta," he replied. "As an architect I often have to go to the area where the planned building is to be erected, and I have to double-check measurements. Besides, pneumonia subjects one to continual coughing fits which would make any kind of architecture impossible."
"I'm afraid that sounds a bit ridiculous Mr. Forrest. No court of law would believe anything like that."
"Well, I'm afraid we may have to test it in a court of law," he replied. "Because I intend suing. You see, Miss Mallatesta..."
"Mr. Forrest, if you feel you have a good case, then by all means sue. But I'm not the least bit interested in your personal history."
"This has to do with my case..."
"As far as we're concerned, your case is closed, Mr. Forrest. I have quite a few other cases to examine, so if you'll excuse me..."
"Your manners are somewhat wanting, Miss Mallatesta."
"Then by all means write to the insurance company and complain, Mr. Forrest. Good day!"
She gently put the receiver down, not listening to the words he was saying to her as she hung up. That had felt especially good.
"Who was that?" a female co-worker of her asked.
"Another deadbeat," Carol shrugged. "Wants something for nothing. Hah! Let him go hang."
But it wasn't Randolph Forrest who was slated to hang.