Sycamore Row - John Grisham

“And these are the guys from D.C.?”
“Yes sir, it’s a firm of ex-FBI types that specializes in finding missing persons. I don’t
know how good they are but I do know they’re expensive. I have a bill we need to pay.”
“Keep pushing. In the court’s view, Ancil is not dead until we know he’s dead.”
“They’re combing death records in all fifty states and in a dozen foreign countries. It
takes time.”
“How is discovery proceeding?”
“Rapidly. It’s a strange case, Judge, because every lawyer involved wants a trial as
soon as possible. How many times have you seen that?”
“Perhaps never.”
“The case is a priority in every office, so there’s a lot of cooperation.”
“No one’s dragging feet?”
“Not a single lawyer. Last week we took eleven depositions in three days, all from
members of the church who saw Mr. Hubbard the morning before he died. Nothing
particularly interesting or unusual. The witnesses are in general agreement that he
seemed like himself, nothing bizarre or strange. So far we have deposed five people who
work in his headquarters and were with him the day before he wrote the will.”
“I’ve read those,” Judge Atlee said, sipping. Move along.
“Everyone is busy lining up the experts. I’ve found my handwriting guy and—”
“A handwriting expert? They will not stipulate that it is Seth Hubbard’s handwriting?”
“Not yet.”
“Is there any doubt?”
“No, not really.”
“Then bring it on for a hearing before the trial and I’ll take a look. Perhaps we can
settle this issue. My goal is to streamline the issues and try the case as smoothly as
possible.” Reuben Atlee wrote the book on “streamlining” a case. He hated wasting time
as much as he loathed windy lawyers. Fresh out of law school, Jake had witnessed the
mauling of an ill-prepared lawyer who was presenting a lame argument to Judge Atlee.
When he repeated himself for the third time, the judge stopped him cold with “Do you
think I’m stupid or deaf?” Stunned, and wisely avoiding a response, the lawyer could
only look up in disbelief. Judge Atlee then said, “My hearing aids are working just fine
and I’m not stupid. If you repeat yourself again, I’ll rule in favor of the other side. Now
move along, sir.”
Are you stupid or deaf? It was a common question in Clanton legal circles.
The bourbon was finally warming things up and Jake told himself to slow down. One
drink would be enough. Arriving home buzzed on Friday afternoon would not sit well
with Carla. He said, “As expected, there will be a fair amount of medical testimony. Mr.
Hubbard was in severe pain and taking a lot of meds. The other side will try to prove
this affected his judgment, so—”
“I understand, Jake. How many medical experts will the jury listen to?”
“I’m not sure at this point.”
“How much medical testimony can a jury in this town understand? Out of twelve,
we’ll have two college graduates at most, a couple of dropouts, and the rest will have