Sycamore Row - John Grisham

tired of the pain. He knew he was dying. We knew he was dying. So no, no real
surprise.”
“Wait till you read the will.”
A waitress blew by, barely slowing long enough to top off both cups of coffee.
Amburgh took a sip and said, “Tell me your story, Mr. Brigance. How did you know
Seth?”
“Never met him,” Jake said. He rattled off the short version of why he was now sitting
at the table. Amburgh listened intently. He had a small round head that was slick on
top, and his nervous habit was to start above the eyebrows with his right hand and
sweep back, as if the few thick strands of dark hair needed to be continually plastered
down. He wore a golf shirt, old khakis, and a light windbreaker, and looked more like a
retiree than the businessman from the funeral.
Jake was saying, “Is it safe to assume you’re his most trusted lieutenant?”
“No, not at all. In fact, I’m not sure why Seth wants me involved in this. I can think of
others who were closer.” A long sip of coffee, then, “Seth and I didn’t always get along.
Several times I thought about leaving. The more money he made, the more risks he took.
More than once I became convinced Seth was determined to flame out in some glorious
bankruptcy, with the loot hidden offshore, of course. He became fearless, and it was
frightening.”
“Now that we’re on the subject, let’s talk about Seth’s money.”
“Sure. I’ll tell you what I know, but I don’t know everything.”
“Okay,” Jake said calmly, as if they were back on the weather. For almost forty-eight
hours he had been consumed with the burning question of what did Seth possess?
Finally, he was about to hear it. He had no legal pad, no pen at the ready, just a cup of
black coffee before him.
Amburgh glanced around again, but no one was listening. “What I’m about to tell you
is not well known. It’s not confidential, but Seth did a good job of keeping things
hidden.”
“It’s all about to come out, Mr. Amburgh.”
“I know.” He took a sip of coffee as if he needed fuel, then leaned in a bit lower. “Seth
had a lot of money, and he made it all in the past ten years. After his second divorce, he
was bitter, angry at the world, broke, and also determined to make some money. He
really liked his second wife, and after she ditched him he wanted revenge. To Seth,
revenge meant making more money than what she got in the divorce.”
“I know her lawyer very well.”
“The big fat guy, what’s his name?”
“Harry Rex Vonner.”
“Harry Rex. I’ve heard Seth cuss him a few times.”
“He’s not the only one.”
“That’s what I hear. Anyway, Seth got his house and land, and he borrowed heavily
against them to buy a big lumber mill near Dothan, Alabama. I was working there,
buying timber, and that’s how I came to know Seth. He got it cheap, good timing. This
was late 1979, the price of plywood spiked, and we were doing pretty well. We had a