Sycamore Row - John Grisham

“Where’s Mr. Willie going to live?”
“Oh, he has several houses,” Jake said. “Don’t worry about him.”
“He’s such a nice man.”
“Yes, he is,” Carla said.
Lucien followed the detective into the room where Lonny sat waiting expectantly with
a stout nurse at his side, sentry-like. She was not smiling and seemed irritated by this
intrusion. One of the doctors had reluctantly acceded to the request for a few questions.
Lonny’s condition had improved overnight and he was feeling better, but his team was
still protective. They didn’t like lawyers anyway.
“This is the guy I told you about, Lonny,” the detective said, without the slightest
attempt at an introduction. Lucien, in his black suit, stood down by Lonny’s feet and
offered a phony smile. “Mr. Clark, my name is Lucien Wilbanks, and I work for a
lawyer in Clanton, Mississippi,” he said.
Lonny had seen the face before, hadn’t he? In the middle of the night, the face had
appeared and disappeared like a ghost. “A pleasure,” Lonny said, as if still groggy,
though his mind had not been this clear since before the blow to his skull.
Lucien said, “We’re involved in some litigation that makes it imperative that we
locate a man named Ancil Hubbard. Mr. Hubbard was born in Ford County, Mississippi,
on August 1, 1922. His father was Cleon Hubbard, his mother was Sarah Belle Hubbard,
and he had one brother, Seth, who was five years older. We’ve been searching high and
low for Ancil Hubbard, and it’s come to our attention that there’s a chance you might
know him or perhaps your paths have crossed in recent years.”
Lonny said, “You’ve come all the way from Mississippi?”
“Sure, but it’s no big deal. We have airplanes down there too. And we’ve covered the
continent looking for Ancil.”
“What kind of litigation?” Lonny asked, with the same disdain most people heap onto
the unsavory subject.
“Some pretty complicated stuff. Seth Hubbard died suddenly about six months ago and
he left behind a mess. A lot of business interests and not much in the way of estate
planning. Our job as lawyers is to first try and round up the family, which in the case of
the Hubbards is quite a task. We have reason to believe you might know something
about Ancil Hubbard. Is this right?”
Lonny closed his eyes as a wave of pain rolled through his head. He reopened them,
looked at the ceiling, and said softly, “That name doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”
As if he was either expecting this or not hearing it, Lucien went on, “Can you think of
anyone in your past who might have known Ancil Hubbard, or mentioned his name?
Help me here, Mr. Clark. Think back. It looks like you’ve moved around a lot, so you’ve
known many people in many places. I know you got a sore head and all, but take your
time, think real hard about this.”
Again, he said, “That name does not ring a bell.”