Sycamore Row - John Grisham

23
Leaving the courthouse in a hurry late Thursday afternoon, Jake was grabbed by
Stillman Rush, who asked if he had time for a quick drink. It was a strange offer because
the two had nothing in common except the Hubbard case. Sure, he said, why not?
Stillman had something important to talk about; otherwise he wouldn’t waste his time
with a street lawyer like Jake.
They met in a bar in the basement of an old building just off the square, walking
distance from the courthouse. It was already dark outside, and misting, a perfectly
gloomy evening and a great time for a drink. Though Jake didn’t frequent bars, he’d
been there before. It was a shadowy, damp place with dark corners and booths and gave
the impression that semi-legitimate deals were going down. Bobby Carl Leach, the
town’s most infamous shyster, owned a table next to the fireplace and was often seen
there with politicians and bankers. Harry Rex Vonner was a regular.
Jake and Stillman got a booth, ordered draft beers, and began to unwind. After four
straight days at the same table listening to endless and marginally useful testimony,
they were almost numb with tedium. Stillman’s innate cockiness seemed to vanish and
he was almost likable. When the waiter dropped off the beers, he leaned in low and
said, “Here’s an idea, just me thinking with no authority from anyone else. But there’s a
pile of money here, we all know that. Not sure how much right now, but—”
“Twenty-four million,” Jake interrupted. The lawyers would soon learn what was in
the inventory, and there was no harm in revealing this to Stillman. Jake was just trying
to keep it out of the newspapers.
Stillman paused, smiled, took a sip and shook his head. “Twenty-four million.”
“And no debts.”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“So there’s twenty-four million, and by the time the tax collectors have their way,
we’ll be lucky if half of it’s left.”
Jake said, “That’s right, according to the accountants.”
“So we’re down to twelve million, still a lot of money, more than you and I will ever
see. So, here’s my idea, Jake. Why don’t we try and negotiate a settlement? There are
three main players—Herschel, Ramona, and Lettie. Surely we can slice the pie and make
everyone happy.”
It was not an original idea. Jake and Lucien had kicked it around several times, and
they were certain the opposing lawyers had done the same. Each side gives a little, or a