Sycamore Row - John Grisham

“I suppose. Herschel and Ramona can get along when they have to, but Ian is the
problem. Herschel said he and Ian can’t stand one another, never have. He sees Ian as a
privileged little prick from a stuffy old family that managed to lose it all, and so he’s
trying hard to regain some status and play the big shot. He’s always looked down on the
Hubbards as something slightly above white trash, until now of course. Now he’s
suddenly enamored with the family and has deep concerns for its well-being.”
It was not lost on Jake that Stillman referred to someone else as a “privileged little
prick from a stuffy old family.”
“What a surprise,” he said. “Look, Stillman, I just spent eight and a half hours playing
pitch and catch with Ramona, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say the woman drinks too
much. The red, leaky eyes, the puffiness partially hidden under makeup, the extra layer
of wrinkles that seem too much for a woman of only forty-two. I’m an expert on drunks
because I’m close to Lucien Wilbanks.”
“Herschel says she’s a lush who’s been threatening to leave Ian for years,” Stillman
said, and Jake was impressed with his candor.
“Now, she can’t run him off,” Jake said.
“Oh no. I think Ian is once again madly in love with his wife. I have a pal in Jackson
who knows some of Ian’s drinking buddies. They say he likes the ladies.”
“I’ll ask him about it tomorrow.”
“Do that. The point is, Herschel and Ian will never trust each other.”
They ordered more beers and finished off their first round. Stillman said, “You don’t
seem too excited about the prospects of a settlement.”
“You’re ignoring what the old man wanted. He was very clear, both in his will and in
his letter to me. He directed me to defend his handwritten will at all costs, to the bitter
end.”
“He directed you?”
“Yes. In a letter that accompanied the will. You’ll see it later. He was very specific in
his desire to cut out his family.”
“But he’s dead.”
“It’s still his money. How can we redirect his money when his wishes were quite clear?
It’s not right, and I doubt if Judge Atlee would approve it.”
“And if you lose?”
“Then I’ll lose doing what I was directed to do. Defend the will at all costs.”
The second beers arrived just as Harry Rex lumbered by without speaking. He seemed
preoccupied and did not look at Jake. It was not yet 6:00 p.m., too early for Harry Rex
to leave the office. He crawled into a booth by himself in a corner and tried to hide.
Stillman wiped foam from his mouth again and asked, “Why’d he do it, Jake? Any
clues so far?”
“Not really,” Jake said with a shrug, as though he would honestly share inside dirt
with his opponent. He wouldn’t give Stillman Rush the time of day if it could possibly
help his cause.
“Sex?”
Another casual shrug, a quick shake of the head, a frown. “I don’t think so. The old