In the last week I spoke with a local CPA who is an examiner or investigator for the state accountancy board. In his face I saw confusion, amazement and sadness, just like everyone else when they first saw this stupid mess.
One of the things he asked me is who wrote the trust document. I told him the lawyer’s name. He recognized it. He commented at the provision under investing stating that with regard to investing, the trustee isn’t bound by statutes or rules of law. And, if I disagree with the trustee’s practices, I forfeit everything.
I asked if he’d heard anything like that, or if he’d ever seen the executor ask permission to take the money immediately after funding the trust, as with what happened here.
The executor and trustee told me to continue looking for a place to move for a year, knowing the money was being drained and was gone for another half year, just to be nasty. All of that was scripted by the executor and her rotten lawyer, and the trustee, a man I designated and a CPA, acted as their toad.
Also, she sponsored my neighborhood animal dumping and the house’s forcible renovation, all advised by this lawyer.
I’ve tried to explain this to people. They’re resistant and don’t want to think it. It’s easier to think I imagined it because it’s too repulsive. I didn’t imagine the bank statements, and I didn’t imagine the rest of it.
On February 20, my former trustee filed a response to our petition. He filed pro se. Why get a lawyer? He is sure he’s done nothing wrong. What does all this mean?
It means that with the $900 per hour cost of the executor’s lawyer and the cost of the other toads, setting up and administering this bum’s shuffle was more expensive than either the initial funding or the amount in dispute. You don’t see that kind of dedication every day. But, there it is. As my father’s sole heir, the plan was to disinherit me this way.
It’s easy to get mired in the loans, the purpose of them, the borrower and the signatory, and miss what drives this fairy tale. These people are criminals who worked together to steal my money. They were highly antagonistic and provocative, hoping to start a fight that would see me hauled to jail, or worse. This is enough to make someone mildly perturbed, and I am. Now I know why my father told me to try to keep from being killed before he died.
It is worse that part two of the narrative is my “elimination.” People who worked on the executor’s “rob and eliminate” program have come to number quite a few. They all know that was the plan. I learned it the hard way. I can’t believe the money is gone, but the trustee himself by God took it. This is the real thing. The people dedicated to this program plan to see it through to the bitter end, and I should expect that.
So, in the interest of self-preservation, I have to assemble a damn hit list. I should not be in that position! The simple fact is, if I don’t grease all these jackasses, one of them will end up popping me. They are halfway finished, and won’t quit.
This takes me back to the one real question about all of it. I ask myself the question first thing when I wake up and every minute of every hour. Where is the money?
Since the trustee took all the money, I can’t afford the kind of extensive private investigation it would take to answer this question. Fortunately, public law enforcement has taken an interest. They are frustrated in their effort to find the money. It isn’t right public resources be expended because some people can’t stop acting like crap. I shouldn’t have to summon all the force possible to settle it, and I should not have to think about the necessity of capping numerous people.
I’m a former trucker, and this isn’t even a little scary. If you want scary, strap 40 tons of junk to your back and go run down the highway. I expect more provocation to accompany the money war. All this tells me my previous trustee wants to retire, and I’m overflowing with venomous raptors.