Ron could never give me an intelligible explanation of how he knew his partner was stealing from him. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, this was a forewarning of a paranoia Ron Morgan would always have.
This assignment, to go to his gay partner and tell him he must leave, struck me as odd. I was a lawyer. Ron had called me stating that he needed help on a legal matter. This was hardly a legal matter, but in Ron’s eyes, it was. This, too, was a forewarning that, in the years to come, Ron would not distinguish matters of legal relevance from daily life activities. When the day came years later that I would meet Jackie through Ron, she would exacerbate this syndrome. When either of them wanted something done, they would just incur the legal fees to have me do it, even if it had nothing to do with legal representation, as such.
So, I went to see Ron’s significant other. His name was Tim, and he was a stylist at an upscale boutique. We met for coffee at a little shop next door to where he worked, split a muffin, and he explained the situation of an impending breakup and the problem of the house being in both their names. Now I knew why Ron was frustrated. He wanted the house.
As it turned out, Tim was ready to get out of the relationship, as well, and he had no problem conveying his half of the house to Ron. After we had settled that issue, Tim said:
“You know Ron can be brutal.”
“How do you mean?” I asked.
“He is very controlling, and there is something deep inside that is dark.”
“I don’t know what it is. It doesn’t start out that way, but you come to know it.”
This was my first occasion to represent Ron Morgan. I look back on it many years later and realize it was filled with foreboding. Tim could have almost been a fortune-teller or a psychic about what was to come for me.
I write of Ron Morgan’s life in my book: Observer: The Ronnie Lee and Jackie Bancroft Spencer Morgan Story, a tale of people, greed, envy, manipulation — even crime.