Present Value by Sabin Willett

Author:Sabin Willett
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781588364111
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2004-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

“LIKE A Japanese monster movie, huh?” asked Max Pearl at lunchtime the next day up in Boston. Pearl was carrying out Judge Chandler’s order by welcoming a potential new client to his cluttered third-floor office near the center of town, on Tremont Street.

“I don’t follow,” said the potential new client.

“Phineas Brubaker of Dover meets Pearl the Jew. You wanna sandwich?”

Pearl was standing behind the desk, which overflowed with heaps of papers and cardboard files. A paper plate clung precariously to the summit of the highest pile. On the plate an island of seafood-salad wraps was separated from potato chips by a moat of white drippings. Pearl was eating a half sandwich, holding the soggy wrap like a cigar and leaning over the plate so the juice would drip on the plate. His tie was tucked into his shirt.

The sounds in the office were of car horns from Tremont Street, clanks and bangs from the radiator, and munches from Pearl’s jaw. He was a loud eater.

Scattered everywhere on the floor were files, in stacks, in heaps, in piles. Behind Pearl, a dusty window gave half a view of the Old Granary Burying Ground. A graveyard, thought Fritz Brubaker, not a good omen. He sat in one of the two tired wooden chairs parked in front of Pearl’s desk. The other chair held a suit jacket and three files. In the corner of the office was a leaf bag full of soda cans.

Fritz declined the offer of lunch.

“Me, I would have done just what you did,” said Pearl.

“Meaning?”

“Firing that dope Wolcott. A putz if there ever was one. Guy needs a script to wish a judge good morning.”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t fire him, exactly.”

“Always lugging those librarians around with him, too. Personally, I thought that was a good move. I liked the part where he had to admit to about a hundred people that he didn’t actually have a client. And then, with all those reporters watching, had to slink out of there. That was a nice touch.”

“I didn’t mean to insult the man. I just hadn’t hired him.”

“I know. Your brilliance was accidental. That would be consistent with everything else you did, which happens to have been dumber than rail grease. Sure you’re not hungry? You’re thin as hell, Fritz.” Max held out the seafood cigar. Fritz shook his head politely. “No? Fine. But the arraignment? It won the Oscar, Fritz, for dumbest speech by an adult male not under the influence of a hard-on.”

The guy was direct, Fritz had to give him that. “Is this the part where you make your pitch for a new client?”

“I’m getting to that.”

“Oh, good.”

“Here it comes.” Pearl put on a caring, empathetic look. “Hey, whaddayagonna do? Could have happened to anyone.”

“That’s it?”

Pearl shrugged. “I lied, actually. Should have said ‘Anyone not a Jew.’ ”

“Why not a Jew?”

“Only a WASP is that stupid,” said Max Pearl. He finished the wrap and began to eat the now soggy potato chips. “I love seafood salad. You like seafood salad?”

Fritz shook his head.

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