Sycamore Row

And Lettie was in the rear seat with a guy in a dark suit, probably a bodyguard of some variety. They’re putting on a show and Lettie’s fallen in with them.”
    “I don’t get it.”
    “Neither do I.”
    “Prather was saying this morning that they might try and changevenue. Move it to another county where they can get more black jurors. Any truth to it?”
    “Just a rumor, I guess. You know Marshall. I swear I think he starts half the gossip in town. Any more rumors?”
    “Oh yes, Jake. They’re buzzing everywhere. The guys lay off when you walk in, but as soon as you’re gone it’s all they talk about.” The door opened and two clerks from the tax collector’s office walked in and sat at a table nearby. Jake knew them and nodded politely. They were close enough to hear, and they would indeed absorb everything.
    He leaned toward Dell and said softly, “Keep your ears open, okay?”
    “Jake, honey, you know I miss nothing.”
    “I know.” Jake left a dollar for the coffee and said good-bye.
    Still unwilling to return to his desk, Jake strolled around the square and stopped at the office of Nick Norton, another sole practitioner who had graduated from the Ole Miss Law School the year Jake started. Nick had inherited the law office from his uncle and was, in all likelihood, somewhat busier than Jake. They referred clients back and forth across the square, and in ten years had managed to avoid any unpleasant disagreements.
    Two years earlier, Nick had represented Marvis Lang when he pleaded guilty to drug trafficking and assault with a deadly weapon. The family had paid a fee of $5,000 in cash, less than what Nick wanted but more than what most of his clients could pay. Marvis had been dead guilty and there had been little wiggle room; plus, he had been unwilling to squeal on his co-defendants. Nick negotiated a twelve-year sentence. Four days earlier, over lunch, Nick had told Jake everything he could about the Lang family and Marvis.
    He was with a client, but his secretary had pulled the file. Jake promised to copy what he wanted and return it soon. No rush, said the secretary. It’s been closed for some time.

    Wade Lanier’s favorite lunch spot was Hal & Mal’s, an old Jackson haunt a few blocks from the state capitol and a ten-minute walk from his office on State Street. He took his favorite table, ordered a glass of tea, and waited impatiently for five minutes until Ian Dafoe walked through the door and joined him. They ordered sandwiches, covered the weather and football, and soon enough got down to business.“We’ll take the case to trial,” Lanier said gravely, his voice barely above a whisper, as if delivering an important secret.
    Ian sort of nodded and shrugged and said, “That’s good to hear.” Anything to the contrary would have been a surprise. There weren’t too many jackpots in the state and lots of lawyers were circling around this one.
    “But we don’t need any help,” Lanier said. “Herschel has that clown from Memphis, unlicensed of course in Mississippi, and he’ll just get in the way. There’s not a damned thing that boy can do to help us, and he can do plenty to irritate me. Can you talk to Herschel and convince him that he and his sister are on the same team and I can handle it?”
    “I don’t know. Herschel has his own ideas and Ramona doesn’t always agree.”
    “Well, figure it out. The courtroom is already crowded, and I suspect Judge Atlee will start whittling down the lineup pretty soon.”
    “What if Herschel says no, wants to keep his own lawyer?”
    “We’ll deal with it then. First, though, try and convince him that his lawyer is not needed, that’s just another finger in the pie.”
    “Okay, along those same lines, what’s your fee proposal?”
    “We’ll take it on a contingency. One-third of the recovery. The legal issues are not overly complex and the trial should last less than a week. We would normally suggest 25 percent of any settlement, but that looks highly unlikely, in my opinion.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s all or nothing, one will or the other. No room for compromise.”
    Ian considered this but didn’t fully grasp it. The sandwiches arrived and they spent a few minutes arranging the food on their plates. Lanier said, “We’re in, but only if both Ramona and Herschel sign on. We—”
    “So you prefer a third of fourteen million as opposed to a third of only seven,” Ian interrupted in a half-baked attempt to add a