Sycamore Row - John Grisham

8
Russell Amburgh hid behind a newspaper in a booth in the rear of The Café. He was not
a regular, nor was he well known in the small town of Temple. He had moved there
because of a woman, his third wife, and they stayed to themselves. He also worked for a
man who valued discretion and secrecy, and this suited Amburgh fine.
He secured the booth a few minutes after 7:00, ordered some coffee, and started
reading. On the subject of Seth Hubbard’s will or wills, he knew nothing. Though he had
worked for Mr. Hubbard for almost a decade, he knew little about his private life. He
could put his finger on most of the man’s assets, certainly not all, but he had learned
early on that his boss loved secrets. And he liked to play games, and hold grudges, and
keep people guessing. The two had traveled extensively together throughout the
Southeast as Mr. Hubbard pieced his holdings together, but they had never been close.
No one was close to Seth Hubbard.
Jake walked in at exactly 7:30 and found Amburgh back in a booth. The Café was
half-full, and Jake, the foreigner, got some looks as he walked through it. He and
Amburgh shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Based on their conversation the day
before, Jake was expecting a cool reception and grudging cooperation, though he was
not overly concerned with Mr. Amburgh’s initial reactions. Jake had been directed by
Seth Hubbard to do a job, and, if he was challenged, the court would stand behind him.
Amburgh, though, seemed relaxed and sufficiently receptive. After a few minutes of
football and weather, he got down to business. “Has the will been probated?” he asked.
“Yes, as of 5:00 p.m. yesterday. I left the funeral and hurried back to the courthouse
in Clanton.”
“Did you bring me a copy of it?”
“I did,” Jake said, without reaching for a pocket. “You are named as executor. It is
now a public record, so you can have a copy.”
Amburgh showed both palms and asked, “Am I a beneficiary?”
“No.”
He nodded grimly and Jake could not tell if this was expected. “I get nothing in the
will?” Amburgh asked.
“Nothing. Is this a surprise?”
Amburgh swallowed hard and glanced around. “No,” he said unconvincingly. “Not
really. With Seth, there are no surprises.”
“You’re not surprised he killed himself?”
“Not at all, Mr. Brigance. The last twelve months have been a nightmare. Seth just got