Sycamore Row - John Grisham

The lawyer calmly said, “Ethics are determined by what they catch you doing. If you
don’t get caught, then you haven’t violated any ethics. And I doubt if Sistrunk spends
too much time reading the latest ethical guidelines from the American Bar Association.”
“He’s too busy reading his own press clippings. When’s he coming back to town?”
The lawyer replied, “Judge Atlee has a hearing scheduled for next week.”
“What’re they gonna do?”
“Bunch of motions and such, probably another circus.”
“He’s a fool if he shows up again in a black Rolls-Royce.”
“I bet he does.”
The insurance agent said, “I got a cousin in Memphis, works in the court system. He
says Sistrunk owes money all over town. He makes a lot, spends even more, always
running from banks and creditors. He bought an airplane two years ago and it damned
near broke him. The bank repossessed it, then sued him. He’s claiming it’s a racist
conspiracy. He threw a big birthday party for his wife, number three, rented a big tent,
brought in a circus, rides for all the little kids, then a fancy dinner with fresh lobster and
crab and wines flown in. When the party was over, all his checks bounced. He was
threatening to file for bankruptcy when he settled some barge case for ten million and
paid everybody off. He’s up and down.”
This had their attention and they mulled it over. The waitress refilled their cups with
scalding coffee.
The realtor looked at the lawyer and said, “You didn’t really vote for Michael
Dukakis, did you?” It was an act of outright provocation.
“I did and I’d do it again,” the lawyer said, and this was met with some guffaws and
some fake laughter. The lawyer was one of two Democrats present. Bush carried Ford
County by 65 percent.
The other Democrat, one of the geezers, redirected things by asking, “When do they
file Hubbard’s inventory? We need to know what’s in the estate, right? I mean, look at
us here, gossiping and bickering over his estate and his last will and so on. Don’t we
have the right, as citizens and taxpayers and beneficiaries under the Freedom of
Information Act, to know exactly what’s in the estate? I certainly think so.”
“It’s none of your business,” said the merchant.
“Maybe so, but I really want to know. And you don’t?”
“I couldn’t care less,” replied the merchant, who was then ridiculed.
When the heckling died down, the lawyer said, “The administrator is required to file
an inventory whenever the judge tells him to do so. There is no statutory deadline. Just
guessing, in an estate of this size, the administrator will be given plenty of time to find
everything and have it appraised.”
“What size are you talking about?”
“The same size everybody else is talking about. We won’t know for sure until the
administrator files his inventory.”
“I thought he was called the executor.”
“Not if the executor quits, as he did here. The court then appoints an administrator to
handle everything. The new guy is a lawyer from Smithfield named Quince Lundy, an