Fairbairn, Ann by Five Smooth Stones

Author:Five Smooth Stones [Stones, Five Smooth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-11-20T23:44:22+00:00

CHAPTER 47

Isaiah was staying with relatives, and the next morning David dropped off at Klein's office the rough outline he had made. Isaiah would pick it up later in the day. When he reached his own office Dora said, "Mr. Willis wants you." She wrinkled her nose at him. "You aren't teacher's pet today, either."

"Can't you protect me any better than that, woman? If I had your gift for gathering scraps of important information, I'd never lose a case. What is it?"

"Go right on in. He's waiting."

Brad looked drawn and tired, the lines from nostril to mouth deeply etched, but when David entered he smiled. "Good morning, my learned colleague."

David grinned. "Just give me the facts. I've been warned."

"Let me give you some background, David. I want you to help a client who was a classmate of mine at Harvard for two years, before he decided to go all out for science. His name is Lloyd A. Litchfield. He looks a most unremarkable man, but he has a most remarkable scientific mind."

David said, "Something about space? There's a bell ringing in the back of my mind—"

"Yes. Research on a totally new kind of fuel. It got a few paragraphs in Time a while back. One of these days it will rate a cover story. To get back to the beginning—and don't interrupt. This is your first baptism in corporation law. Several years ago he started, with my help, the research firm of L. A. Litchfield and Associates. It inevitably became known as LaLa. Like a lot of artists, musicians, writers, and scientists with fuzzy fiscal minds, he prides himself on being a good businessman. Actually, he's a lousy one. His two associates aren't much better. One of them is a whiz in the electronics field, and they want to expand into manufacturing. They have already, in a small way, with a resultant foul-up that stood my hair on end. Now they want to go public. No one of them, believe me, knows a share of stock from a debenture, and I'm sure all of them think that 'convertible' is only a name for a car with a top that folds back. I'm turning the spadework over to you. He'll be in this afternoon at two o'clock."

"It might be a good idea if you checked with a man named Benford, my math professor, before turning this innocent character over to me."

"I'm not worrying. Naturally, you'll work closely with Lloyd's accountants. Lean on them whenever you feel at a loss. Just be sure that the firm is in top form for scrutiny to go public. I'll take it from there."

When Brad introduced Litchfield that afternoon he said: "David Champlin is the ideal lad for you, my friend. He has a gift so rare as to be almost nonexistent in young, fledgling lawyers—the gift of keeping it simple. For some reason he was never bitten by the 'whereas' bug. He drew up a complicated will the other day that left me gasping. Even the client understood it.

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