Sycamore Row - John Grisham

22
Just as Judge Atlee imagined the scene, old Seth would indeed have been upset, had he
been a fly on the wall. No fewer than nine lawyers gathered in the courtroom early
Monday morning to formally kick off discovery in the case now known on the docket as
In re Estate of Henry Seth Hubbard. In other words, nine lawyers sharpening their knives
for a slice of the pie.
In addition to Jake, those present were Wade Lanier and Lester Chilcott, from
Jackson, representing Ramona Dafoe. Stillman Rush and Sam Larkin, from Tupelo,
representing Herschel Hubbard. Lanier was still pressuring Ian to pressure Ramona to
pressure Herschel to ditch the Tupelo lawyers and join forces, but such efforts so far had
only led to more tension in the family. Lanier was threatening to bolt if the two allies
could not join forces, but his threats were losing steam. Ian suspected there was simply
too much money in the pot for any lawyer to walk away. Herschel’s children were
represented by Zack Zeitler, a Memphis lawyer also licensed in Mississippi. He brought
along a useless associate whose only role was to fill a chair, scribble nonstop, and
convey the impression that Zeitler had resources. Ramona’s children were represented
by Joe Bradley Hunt, from Jackson, and he dragged along an associate similar to
Zeitler’s. Ancil, also in at five, was still presumed dead, and thus unrepresented and not
mentioned.
Portia was one of three paralegals in the courtroom. Wade Lanier and Stillman Rush
brought the other two, both white males, same as everybody else except for the court
reporter, who was a white woman. “The courtroom is owned by the taxpayers,” Jake
had told Portia. “So act like you own the place.” She was trying, but she was still a
nervous wreck. She was expecting tension, maybe harsh words, an atmosphere pervaded
by competition and distrust. What she saw, however, was a bunch of white men shaking
hands, swapping friendly insults, poking fun, laughing, and having a good time as they
drank their coffee and waited on 9:00 a.m. If there was any edginess as they were about
to begin their war over a fortune, it was not evident.
“It’s just depositions,” Jake had said. “You’ll be bored out of your mind. Death by
deposition.”
In the center of the courtroom, between the bar and the bench, the tables had been
joined together, with chairs crammed around them. The lawyers slowly found their
places, though no seating was assigned. Since Lettie would be the first witness, Jake sat
near the empty seat at the end. At the other end, the court reporter fiddled with a video
camera as a clerk entered with a full pot of coffee and sat it on the table.