Sycamore Row - John Grisham

arrested a couple of times, the most recent being last October. Misdemeanors, no
felonies. Yes, they had separated several times, but never for more than two months.
Enough of Simeon, for now anyway; Stillman wanted to follow up with Lettie’s
résumé. She worked for Seth Hubbard off and on, part-time and full-time, for most of the
past three years. Before that, she worked for three years as a housekeeper in the
Clanton home of an old couple Jake had never heard of. Both died within three months
of one another, and Lettie was out of work. Before that, she worked as a cook in the
middle school cafeteria in Karaway. Stillman wanted dates, wages, raises, bosses, every
minute detail, and Lettie did the best she could.
Seriously? Portia asked herself. How could the name of my mother’s boss ten years
ago possibly be important to this will contest? It would be a fishing expedition, Jake
had said. Welcome to the mind-numbing dullness of deposition warfare.
Jake had also explained that depositions drag on for days because the lawyers are
being paid by the hour, or at least the ones who are asking the banal and monotonous
questions. With virtually no restrictions on what can be explored, and with their meters
running, lawyers, especially those working for insurance companies and big
corporations, have no interest in being concise. As long as they can keep the
conversation close to a person, issue, or thing remotely connected to the lawsuit, then
they can peck away for hours.
However, Jake had also explained that the Hubbard case was different because the
only lawyer working by the hour was him. The others were there on a prayer and a
percentage. If the handwritten will were to be invalidated, the money would revert to
the family under the prior will, and all those lawyers would take a cut. Since the other
lawyers had no guarantee they would be paid, he suspected their questions might not be
so tedious.
Portia wasn’t so sure about that. Tedium was closing in from all directions.
Stillman liked to bounce around, probably in an effort to keep the witness off
balance. He woke up the crowd with “Now, did you borrow money from your former
attorney, Booker Sistrunk?”
“I did.” Lettie knew the question was coming and answered it without hesitation.
There was no law or rule against such a loan, not on the receiving end anyway.
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
“Did he write you a check or was it in cash?”
“Cash, and we, Simeon and I, signed a promissory note.”
“Was this the only loan from Sistrunk?”
“No, there was a prior loan for $5,000.”
“Why did you borrow money from Mr. Sistrunk?”
“Because we needed the money. I lost my job, and with Simeon you never know.”
“Did you take the money and move into a larger house?”
“We did.”
“And how many people now live in that house?”
Lettie thought for a moment, and said, “Usually around eleven, but the number varies.