Sycamore Row

did Lanier and Stillman Rush. Judge Atlee rustled some papers, then launched into a discussion about the remaining depositions. With the lawyers in a remarkably agreeable mood, scheduling posed few problems. A pretrial conference was set for March 20, two weeks before the trial.
    The meeting was adjourned.

    The meeting reconvened fifteen minutes later in Judge Atlee’s office down the hall. Lawyers only, no clients, paralegals, clerks, or anyone else who couldn’t be trusted. Just the lawyers and the judge, who’d taken off his robe and was puffing away on his pipe.
    When they were seated, he said, “Gentlemen, for the next few minutes or so, we will at least have a discussion about settling this matter. I have no reservations about going forward with the trial; indeed, in many ways, I’m looking forward to it. Jury trials are rare for me, and seldom am I dealt facts as intriguing as those presented here. Nonetheless, I would be remiss in my role as the impartial referee not to explore ways to arrive at an outcome that will give all sides something, though less than what they would like. There’s a lot of money on the line here, gentlemen, surely there’s a way to slice the pie and make everyone happy.” A heavy pause as he sucked hard on the pipe stem. “May I make the first proposal?”
    As if he needed approval. All lawyers nodded yes, though cautiously.
    “Very well. Take the two smaller bequests of 5 percent each: pay the church in full; put Ancil’s in a trust until we figure what to do at a later date. Take the remaining 90 percent and split it three ways: one-third to Lettie Lang; one-third to Herschel Hubbard; one-third to Ramona Hubbard Dafoe. If we assume a tax bite of 50 percent, then each of the three will walk away with something in the neighborhood of three point six million. Far less than what each wants, but far more than each will get if the other side wins. What do you think?”
    “I’m sure the church will take it,” Jake said.
    “It kinda leaves us high and dry, Your Honor,” said Zack Zeitler, the attorney for Herschel’s children.
    “Same here,” said Joe Bradley Hunt, the attorney for Ramona’s kids.
    “Of course,” Judge Atlee said. “But it’s safe to assume the children will get no small benefit from such a settlement. Their parents get a windfall; surely it will trickle down. Perhaps, you could stipulate that a portion be held in trust for the kids. Just an idea.”
    “Perhaps,” Zeitler said, cutting his eyes around at the other attorneys as if his throat was in danger.
    “Interesting,” Wade Lanier mumbled. “I think my folks would consider it.”
    “Same here,” said Stillman Rush.
    His Honor chewed on his battered pipe stem and looked at Jake, who at the moment was stewing because of the ambush. He had not been forewarned of this impromptu settlement conference, and he certainly had no clue that his old pal was planning to throw some numbers on the table. Judge Atlee said, “Jake?”
    Jake said, “You all have copies of the letter Seth Hubbard wrote to me when he mailed along his last will and testament. His instructions to me are rather explicit. His wishes and desires regarding his two adult children could not be clearer. I suggest you all read the letter again, and the will. I represent the estate, and I have my marching orders. My job is to uphold Mr. Hubbard’s will and see to it that his children get nothing. I have no choice. I will not be a part of any compromise or settlement.”
    “Should you discuss this with your client?” Stillman said.
    “My client is the estate, which is represented by Mr. Quince Lundy, the administrator.”
    “I’m talking about Lettie Lang.”
    “And I don’t represent Lettie Lang. We have the same interests—the validation of the handwritten will—but I’m not her lawyer. I’ve made that clear to everyone, especially to her. As an interested party she has the right to hire a lawyer, which she tried once but he wound up in jail.”
    “I kinda miss ol’ Booker,” Wade Lanier said, and again got a few laughs.
    Jake pressed on. “My point is that I’m not her lawyer.”
    Stillman said, “Sure, Jake, technically, but right now you havemore influence with her than anyone else. Hell, her daughter is your paralegal, or secretary, or whatever.”
    “I have quite a staff.”
    Wade Lanier said, “You can’t tell us, Jake, that if you went to Lettie and told her she could walk away with over three million