Sycamore Row - John Grisham

preliminary matters, Jake. As you know, Sistrunk is a high-powered litigator with plenty
of resources. I suppose that’s why he wants me on his team.”
“Well, welcome aboard, Rufus. I doubt if Sistrunk told you the rest of the story, but he
has already tried to get me kicked off. Didn’t work because Judge Atlee can read as well
as anyone. The will specifically names me as the attorney for the estate. Atlee is not
going to recuse himself, nor will he move the trial out of Clanton. You boys are pissing
in the wind and pissing off every potential juror in the county. Pretty stupid, in my
opinion, Rufus, and the stupidity is killing our chances.”
“We’ll see. You’re inexperienced, Jake, and you need to step aside. Oh sure, you’ve
had a handful of nice verdicts in criminal cases, but this ain’t criminal, Jake. This is
complicated, high-dollar civil litigation, and you’re already in over your head.”
Jake bit his tongue and reminded himself how much he despised the voice on the other
end. Slowly, deliberately, he said, “You were a prosecutor, Rufus. When did you become
an expert in civil litigation?”
“I’m a litigator. I live in the courtroom. In the past year I’ve tried nothing but civil
cases. Plus, I’ve got Sistrunk at the table. He nailed the Memphis Police Department
three times last year for more than a million dollars.”
“And they’re all on appeal. He hasn’t collected a dime.”
“But he will. The same way we’ll kick ass with the Hubbard matter.”
“What are you guys raking off the top, Rufus? Fifty percent?”
“Confidential, Jake. You know that.”
“It should be made public.”
“Don’t be envious, Jake.”
“Later, Rufus,” Jake said and hung up.
He took a deep breath, jumped to his feet, and walked downstairs. “Back in a
minute,” he said to Roxy as he passed her desk. It was 10:30 and the Coffee Shop was
empty. Dell was drying forks at the counter when Jake walked in and sat on a stool
nearby. “A time-out?” she asked.
“Yes. Decaf coffee please.” Jake often appeared at odd hours, and it was usually in an
effort to get away from the office and the phone. She poured him a cup and eased
closer, still drying the flatware.
“What do you know?” Jake asked as he stirred in sugar. With Dell, there was a fine
line between what she knew and what she’d heard. Most of her customers thought she
would repeat anything, but Jake knew better. After twenty-five years at the Coffee
Shop, she had heard enough false rumors and outright lies to know how damaging they
could be; so, in spite of her reputation, she was generally careful.
“Well,” she began slowly, “I don’t believe Lettie helped herself by bringing in those
black lawyers from Memphis.” Jake nodded and took a sip. She went on, “Why did she
do that, Jake? I thought you were her lawyer.” She spoke of Lettie as if she’d known her
a lifetime, though they’d never met. This was not unusual now in Clanton.
“No, I’m not her lawyer. I’m the lawyer for the estate, for the will. She and I are on
the same side, but she couldn’t hire me.”
“Does she need a lawyer?”