Sycamore Row

was.”
    “Why don’t you take a large bite of that sandwich?” Jake said. “Lettie needs to relax and no one can relax when you’re on your soapbox.”
    Lucien took a small bite and asked, “What’d you think, Portia?”
    She was nibbling on a chip. She laid it down and said, “It’s pretty cool, I mean, being in a room full of that many lawyers. Makes me feel important.”
    “Don’t be too impressed,” Jake said. “Most of those guys couldn’t try a shoplifting case in city court.”
    “I’ll bet Wade Lanier can,” Lettie said. “He’s smooth. I get the impression he knows what I’m gonna say before I say it.”
    “He’s very good,” Jake admitted. “Believe me, Lettie, we will learn to despise him. He seems to be a nice guy now, but you won’t be able to stand the sight of him before this is over.”
    The thought of a long fight seemed to deflate Lettie. Four hours into the initial skirmish, and she was already exhausted.

    During lunch, two ladies from the clerk’s office assembled a small artificial Christmas tree and placed it at the far rear corner of the courtroom. From where Jake was sitting at the table, he had a clear, unobstructed view of the tree. At noon each Christmas Eve, most of the Circuit and Chancery Court clerks and judges, and a few handpicked lawyers, gathered back there for egg nog and gag gifts. It was a gathering Jake tried his best to avoid.
    The tree, though, reminded him that Christmas was only days away, and the thought of shopping had not yet crossed his mind, at least not until then. As Wade Lanier plowed ahead in a voice so low and dry that it was practically a sedative, Jake caught his mind drifting away to the holidays. For the past two years, they had struggled to decorate their rental and bring it alive for the holidays. Hanna helped tremendously. Having a child around the house kept everyone’s spirits up.
    Lanier moved into a sensitive area. Slowly, skillfully, he probedinto Lettie’s duties around the house when Mr. Hubbard was sick with the chemo and radiation and confined to his bed. Lettie explained that a home-health-care agency sent nurses over to tend to him, but these women were not good, not considerate enough, and Mr. Hubbard was quite rude. She didn’t blame him. He ran them off and had fights with the agency. Eventually, Lettie took over his care. She cooked whatever he wanted, and fed him when he needed help. She helped him out of bed and to the bathroom, where he sometimes sat on the toilet for half an hour. He had accidents, and she cleaned his bed. On several occasions, he was forced to use a bedpan, and Lettie tended to him. No, it was not pleasant work and she was not trained in such ways, but she managed. He appreciated her kindness. He trusted her. Yes, on several occasions she bathed Mr. Hubbard in his bed. Yes, a complete bath, touching everywhere. He was so sick and hardly awake. Later, when they stopped the chemo and radiation for a while, he regained his strength and began moving around as soon as possible. He bounced back with an amazing determination. No, he never quit smoking.
    Intimacy can kill our case, Jake had explained to Portia in blunt terms, which were then filtered through daughter to mother. If the jury believes Lettie got too close to Seth Hubbard, they’ll have no trouble finding she unduly influenced him.
    Was Mr. Hubbard affectionate with her? Was he one to hug, peck on the cheek, pat on the rear end? Not in the least, Lettie said. Never. Her boss was a hard man who kept to himself. He had little patience with other people and needed few friends. He did not shake Lettie’s hand when she arrived for work in the morning, nor did he offer her even a semblance of an embrace when saying good-bye. She was his employee, nothing more: not a friend, nor confidante, nor anything else. He was polite and he thanked her when appropriate, but he was never a man of many words.
    She knew nothing of his business, nor his social affairs. He never spoke of another woman and Lettie never saw one in his home. In fact, she could not remember a single incident when a friend or business acquaintance came to the house, not in the three years she worked there.
    Perfect, Jake said to himself.
    Bad lawyers tried to trick witnesses, or pin them down, or confuse them, all in an effort to win the deposition. Good lawyers preferred to win at trial, and used depositions as a means to gather information that could be used to set traps