By this time, Wally and Oscar were hanging on every word and exchanging nervous glances. When David said, “The attorneys’ fees are $1.5 million,” both closed their eyes and lowered their heads, as if in prayer. David paused as he retrieved copies of a document for each of them.
“This is a proposed partnership agreement for the new law firm of Finley, Figg & Zinc.” Oscar and Wally held the document, but neither looked at its language. They simply gawked at David, both mouths open, both men too stunned to speak.
David continued, “An equal partnership, a three-way split of the bottom line with a monthly draw based on net revenue for each month. You guys keep the building in your names. You may want to look at the third paragraph on the second page.” Neither flipped a page.
“Just tell us,” Oscar said.
“Okay, there’s some pretty clear language about certain activities the new firm will not engage in. It will not pay bribes or referral fees to policemen, tow truck drivers, rescue personnel, or anyone else for case referrals. It will not advertise on bus stop benches, bingo cards, or any other cheap publication. In fact, all advertising must be approved by the Marketing Committee, which, at least for the first year, will consist solely of me. In other words, fellas, the firm will no longer chase ambulances.”
“What’s the fun of that?” Wally asked.
David smiled politely but kept going. “I’ve heard talk about advertising on billboards and television; that, too, is prohibited. Before the firm signs up a new client, the three of us must agree to take the case. In summary, the firm will adhere to the highest standards of professional conduct. Any fees in cash will go straight to the books, which will now be kept by a competent CPA. In effect, gentlemen, the new firm will operate like a real law firm. This agreement is good for one year, and if either of you fails to comply with it, then the partnership will dissolve and I’ll find work elsewhere.”
“Back to the attorneys’ fees,” Wally said. “I’m not sure you finished that part of the discussion.”
“If we can agree on the rules of the new partnership, then I suggest we use the fees from the Khaing settlement to pay off the bank and clean up the Krayoxx mess, including the $15,000 in sanctions levied during the trial. That’s about $200,000. Rochelle gets a bonus of $100,000. That leaves $1.2 million for the lawyers, which I think we should divide equally.”
Wally closed his eyes. Oscar grunted, then slowly got to his feet and walked to the front door, where he looked through the window. Finally, he said, “You don’t have to do this, David.”
“I agree,” Wally said, though without much conviction. “This is your case. We’ve done nothing.”
“I understand,” David said. “But I look at it like this: I would never have found this case had I not been here. It’s that simple. A year ago, I was working at a job I hated. By chance I stumbled into this place, met you guys, and then I got lucky and found this case.”
“Excellent point,” Wally said, and Oscar was quick to agree. Oscar walked back to the table and slowly settled into his chair. He looked at Wally and said, “What about my divorce?”
“No problem. We have a signed settlement agreement. Your wife is not entitled to any fees earned after she signed it. The divorce will be final in January.”
“That’s the way I see it,” Oscar said.
“Me too,” added David.
Things were silent for a long time, then AC rose from his pillow and began a low growl. The distant whine of an ambulance siren came into range and grew louder. Wally glanced longingly at the window beside Rochelle’s desk.
“Don’t even think about it,” David said.
“Sorry. Force of habit,” Wally replied. Oscar began chuckling, and soon all three were laughing.
EPILOGUE
Bart Shaw closed his files and dropped his malpractice threats against Finley & Figg. He collected almost $80,000 from Varrick for his successful efforts to torment the firm and force it to trial in the Klopeck matter. Adam Grand filed an ethics complaint with the state bar association, but it eventually fizzled. Five other clients, of the “non-death” variety, did the same, with the same results. Nadine Karros made good on her promise not to seek sanctions for the filing of frivolous lawsuits, but Varrick mounted an aggressive, and sometimes successful, campaign in other courts to collect money from plaintiffs’ firms. Jerry Alisandros was hit with a huge fine in southern Florida when it became obvious he had no plans to pursue his Krayoxx litigation.
Thuya Khaing suffered a series of violent seizures and died three days after Christmas in Lakeshore Children’s Hospital. David and Helen, along with Wally, Oscar, and Rochelle, attended the small burial service. Also in attendance were Carl LaPorte and Dylan Kott, who, with David’s help, managed to have a quiet word with Soe and Lwin. Carl offered his heartfelt condolences and again took full responsibility on behalf of his company. Under the terms of David’s settlement agreement, all sums were vested and would be paid as promised.
Oscar’s divorce became final in late January. By then, he was living with his new girlfriend in a new apartment and had never been happier. Wally remained sober and was even volunteering to help with other lawyers battling addictions.
Justin Bardall was sentenced to one year in prison for attempting to torch the law office. He appeared in court in a wheelchair and was required by the judge to acknowledge the presence of Oscar, Wally, and David. Bardall had cooperated with the prosecutors for a light sentence. The judge, who had spent the first twenty years of his career practicing law on the streets of southwest Chicago and had a low opinion of thugs who conspired to burn law offices, did not show compassion for Justin’s bosses. The owner of Cicero Pipe was sentenced to five years in prison, and his construction superintendent got four.
David successfully won a dismissal of Bardall’s lawsuit against Oscar and the firm.
Not surprisingly, the new partnership did not survive. After his heart surgery and divorce, Oscar lost steam and spent fewer hours at the office. He had some money in the bank and was drawing a pension from Social Security, and his housemate made a comfortable living as a masseuse. (He had actually met her next door.) After six months under the new agreement, he began dropping hints about retiring. Wally was still smarting from his Krayoxx adventure and had lost his zeal to hustle new cases. He, too, had a new girlfriend, a slightly older woman with a “nice balance sheet,” as he described it. Also, it was painfully obvious, at least to David, that neither partner had the desire, nor talent, to put together big cases and take them to trial if necessary. He honestly couldn’t imagine walking into another courtroom with those two.
His radar was on high alert, and he saw the warning signs immediately. He began planning his exit.
Eleven months after Emma arrived, Helen gave birth to twin boys. That momentous occasion prompted David to plan a new future. He leased office space not far from their home in Lincoln Park, carefully choosing a fourth-floor suite with a view to the south. He could see the magnificent skyline of downtown, with the Trust Tower squarely in the center of it. The view never failed to motivate him.
When things were in place, he informed Oscar and Wally that he planned to leave when the agreement expired at the end of twelve months. The parting was difficult and sad, but not unexpected. It prompted Oscar to announce his retirement. Wally seemed relieved too. He and Oscar decided on the spot to sell the building and close shop. By the time all three shook hands and wished each other good luck, Wally was planning a getaway to Alaska.