Sycamore Row - John Grisham

contest. Hell, we got three trials against Shell Oil scheduled for next month. Offshore oil
rig injuries.”
Ian filled his mouth with fries so he wouldn’t be able to speak. He also held his breath
for a second in the hopes that the lawyer would not launch into yet another round of
war stories about some of his greatest cases and trials. It was an obnoxious habit most
trial lawyers were afflicted with, and Ian had suffered through the routine before.
But Lanier resisted the temptation and kept going. “And you’re right, if we’re taking
the case, we want both heirs, not only you. It’s the same amount of work; actually, it’s
less work for us because we won’t waste time dealing with that boy from Memphis.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Ian said.
“We’ll bill you each month for the expenses, and there’ll be some, mainly expert
witnesses.”
“How much?”
“We’ve worked up a litigation budget. Fifty thousand should cover the expenses.”
Lanier glanced around, though no other diner could possibly hear a word they were
saying. In a lower voice, he said, “Plus, we need to hire an investigator, and not just
your average run-of-the-mill gumshoe. We gotta spend some money on a guy who can
infiltrate the world of Lettie Lang and find some dirt, and it won’t be easy.”
“How much?”
“Strictly a guess, but I’d say another twenty-five.”
“I’m not sure I can afford this lawsuit.”
Finally, a smile from Lanier, but a forced one. “You’re about to get rich, Ian, just stick
with me.”
“What makes you so confident? When we met last week you were pretty cautious,
even doubtful.”
Another gruff smile. “That was our first conversation, Ian. The surgeon is always
reserved when confronted with a complicated procedure. Now, things are getting
clearer. We were in court yesterday morning. I got the lay of the land. I heard the
opposition. And, most important, I got a good look at Lettie Lang’s lawyers, those slickricks
from Memphis. They are the key to our victory. Put them before a jury in Clanton,
and the handwritten will becomes a bad joke.”
“Got that. Let’s get back to the seventy-five grand in expense money. I thought some
law firms fronted the expense money and took a reimbursement out of the verdict or
settlement.”
“We’ve done that.”
“Come on, Wade. You do it all the time because most of your clients are broke.
They’re working stiffs who get mangled in job injuries, stuff like that.”
“Yes, but that’s not you, Ian. You can afford to finance the lawsuit; others cannot.
Ethics dictate that a client must cover the expenses if he’s financially able.”
“Ethics?” Ian asked with a smirk. It was almost an insult, but Lanier took no offense.
He was well versed in the ethics of his profession when they could be beneficial;
otherwise, he ignored them.
Lanier said, “Come on, Ian. It’s only seventy-five grand, and it’ll be spread over the