jg.thefirm-第14部分

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　　〃I　don't　think　so。　Mr。　Lambert　doesn't　usually　wait　for　anybody。〃
　　〃I　see。〃
　　〃You'd　better　go。〃
　　〃What　does　he　want？〃
　　〃His　secretary　didn't　say。〃
　　He　put　on　his　coat；　straightened　his　tie　and　raced　upstairs　to　the　fourth　floor；　where　Mr。　Lambert's　secretary　was　waiting。　She　introduced　herself　and　informed　him　she　had　been　with　　for　thirty…one　years。　In　fact；　she　was　the　second　secretary　hired　by　Mr。　Anthony　Bendini　after　he　moved　to　Memphis。　Ida　Renfroe　was　her　name；　but　everyone　called　her　Mrs。　Ida。　She　showed　him　into　the　big　office　and　closed　the　door。
　　Oliver　Lambert　stood　behind　his　desk　and　removed　his　reading　glasses。　He　smiled　warmly　and　laid　his　pipe　in　the　brass　holder。　〃Good　morning；　Mitch；〃　he　said　softly；　as　if　time　meant　nothing。　〃Let's　sit　over　there。〃　He　waved　to　the　sofa。
　　〃Would　you　like　coffee？〃　Mr。　Lambert　asked。
　　〃No；　thanks。〃
　　Mitch　sank　into　the　couch　and　the　partner　sat　in　a　stiff　wing　chair；　two　feet　away　and　three　feet　higher。　Mitch　unbuttoned　his　coat　and　tried　to　relax。　He　crossed　his　legs　and　glanced　at　his　new　pair　of　Cole…Haans。　Two　hundred　bucks。　That　was　an　hour's　work　for　an　associate　at　this　money…printing　factory。　He　tried　to　relax。　But　he　could　feel　the　panic　in　Avery's　voice　and　see　the　desperation　in　his　eyes　when　he　held　the　phone　and　listened　to　this　Capps　fellow　on　the　other　end。　This；　his　second　full　day　on　the　job；　and　his　head　was　pounding　and　his　stomach　hurting。
　　Mr。　Lambert　smiled　downward　with　his　best　sincere　grandfatherly　smile。　It　was　time　for　a　lecture　of　some　sort。　He　wore　a　brilliant　white　shirt；　button…down；　all…cotton；　pinpoint；　with　a　small；　dark　silk　bow　tie　which　bestowed　upon　him　a　look　of　extreme　intelligence　and　wisdom。　As　always；　he　was　tanned　beyond　the　usual　midsummer　Memphis　scorched　bronzeness。　His　teeth　sparkled　like　diamonds。　A　sixty…year…old　model。
　　〃Just　a　couple　of　things；　Mitch；〃　he　said。　〃I　understand　you've　bee　quite　busy。〃
　　〃Yes；　sir；　quite。〃
　　〃Panic　is　a　way　of　life　in　a　major　law　firm；　and　clients　like　Sonny　Capps　can　cause　ulcers。　Our　clients　are　our　only　assets；　so　we　kill　ourselves　for　them。〃
　　Mitch　smiled　and　frowned　at　the　same　time。
　　〃Two　things；　Mitch。　First；　my　wife　and　I　want　you　and　Abby　to　have　dinner　with　us　Saturday。　We　dine　out　quite　often；　and　we　enjoy　having　our　friends　with　us。　I　am　somewhat　of　a　chef　myself；　and　I　appreciate　fine　food　and　drink。　We　usually　reserve　a　large　table　at　one　of　our　favorite　restaurants　in　town；　invite　our　friends　and　spend　the　evening　with　a　nine…course　meal　and　the　rarest　of　wines。　Will　you　and　Abby　be　free　on　Saturday？〃
　　〃Of　course。〃
　　〃Kendall　Mahan；　Wally　Hudson；　Lamar　Quin　and　their　wives　will　also　be　there。〃
　　〃We'd　be　delighted。〃
　　〃Good。　My　favorite　place　in　Memphis　is　Justine's。　It's　an　old　French　restaurant　with　exquisite　cuisine　and　an　impressive　wine　list。　Say　seven　Saturday？〃
　　〃We'll　be　there。〃
　　〃Second；　there's　something　we　need　to　discuss。　I'm　sure　you're　aware　of　it；　but　it's　worth　mentioning。　It's　very　important　to　us。　I　know　they　taught　you　at　Harvard　that　there　exists　a　confidential　relationship　between　yourself；　as　a　lawyer；　and　your　client。　It's　a　privileged　relationship　and　you　can　never　be　forced　to　divulge　anything　a　client　tells　you。　It's　strictly　confidential。　It's　a　violation　of　our　ethics　if　we　discuss　our　client's　business。　Now；　this　applies　to　every　lawyer；　but　at　this　firm　we　take　this　professional　relationship　very　seriously。　We　don't　discuss　a　client's　business　with　anyone。　Not　other　lawyers。　Not　spouses。　Sometimes；　not　even　each　other。　As　a　rule；　we　don't　talk　at　home；　and　our　wives　have　learned　not　to　ask。　The　less　you　say；　the　better　off　you　are。　Mr。　Bendini　was　a　great　believer　in　secrecy；　and　he　taught　us　well。　You　will　never　hear　a　member　of　this　firm　mention　even　so　much　as　a　client's　name　outside　this　building。　That's　how　serious　we　are。〃
　　Where's　he　going　with　this？　Mitch　asked　himself。　Any　second…year　law　student　could　give　this　speech。　〃I　understand　that；　Mr。　Lambert；　and　you　don't　have　to　worry　about　me。〃
　　〃　'Loose　tongues　lose　lawsuits。'　That　was　Mr。　Bendini's　motto；　and　he　applied　it　to　everything。　We　simply　do　not　discuss　our　client's　business　with　anyone；　and　that　includes　our　wives。　We're　very　quiet；　very　secretive；　and　we　like　it　that　way。　You'll　meet　other　lawyers　around　town　and　sooner　or　later　they'll　ask　something　about　our　firm；　or　about　a　client。　We　don't　talk；　understand？〃
　　〃Of　course；　Mr。　Lambert。〃
　　〃Good。　We're　very　proud　of　you；　Mitch。　You'll　make　a　great　lawyer。　And　a　very　rich　lawyer。　See　you　Saturday。〃
　　Mrs。　Ida　had　a　message　for　Mitch。　Mr。　Tolar　needed　him　at　once。　He　thanked　her　and　raced　down　the　stairs；　down　the　hallway；　past　his　office；　to　the　big　one　in　the　corner。　There　were　now　three　secretaries　digging　and　whispering　to　each　other　while　the　boss　yelled　into　the　telephone。　Mitch　found　a　safe　spot　in　a　chair　by　the　door　and　watched　the　circus。　The　women　pulled　files　and　notebooks　and　mumbled　in　strange　tongues　among　themselves。　Occasionally　Avery　would　snap　his　fingers　and　point　here　and　there　and　they　would　jump　like　scared　rabbits。
　　After　a　few　minutes　he　slammed　the　phone　down；　again　without　saying　goodbye。　He　glared　at　Mitch。
　　〃Sonny　Capps　again。　The　Chinese　want　seventy…five　million　and　he's　agreed　to　pay　it。　There　will　be　forty…one　limited　partners　instead　of　twenty…five。　We　have　twenty　days；　or　the　deal　is　off。〃
　　Two　of　the　secretaries　walked　over　to　Mitch　and　handed　him　thick　expandable　files。
　　〃Can　you　handle　it？〃　Avery　asked；　almost　with　a　sneer。　The　secretaries　looked　at　him。
　　Mitch　grabbed　the　files　and　headed　for　the　door。　〃Of　course　I　can　handle　it。　Is　that　all？〃
　　〃It's　enough。　I　don't　want　you　to　work　on　anything　but　that　file　between　now　and　Saturday；　understand？〃
　　〃Yes；　boss。〃
　　In　his　office　he　removed　the　bar　review　materials；　all　fifteen　notebooks；　and　piled　them　in　a　corner。　The　Capps　file　was　arranged　neatly　across　the　desk。　He　breathed　deeply　and　began　reading。　There　was　a　knock　at　the　door。
　　〃Who　is　it？〃
　　Nina　stuck　her　head　through。　〃I　hate　to　tell　you　this；　but　your　new　furniture　is　here。〃
　　He　rubbed　his　temples　and　mumbled　incoherently。
　　〃Perhaps　you　could　work　in　the　library　for　a　couple　of　hours。〃
　　〃Perhaps。〃
　　They　repacked　the　Capps　file　and　moved　the　fifteen　notebooks　into　the　hall；　where　two　large　black　men　waited　with　a　row　of　bulky　cardboard　boxes　and　an　oriental　rug。
　　Nina　followed　him　to　the　second…floor　library。
　　〃I'm　supposed　to　meet　with　Lamar　Quin　at　two…to　study　for　the　bar　exam。　Call　him　and　cancel。　Tell　him　I'll　explain　later。〃
　　〃You　have　a　two　o'clock　meeting　with　Gill　Vaughn；〃　she　said。
　　〃Cancel　that　one　too。〃
　　〃He's　a　partner。〃
　　〃Cancel　it。　I'll　make　it　up　later。〃
　　〃It's　not　wise。〃
　　〃Just　do　as　I　say。〃
　　〃You're　the　boss。〃
　　〃Thank　you。〃
　　The　paperhanger　was　a　short　muscle…bound　woman　advanced　in　years　but　conditioned　to　hard　work　and　superbly　trained。　For　almost　forty　years　now；　she　explained　to　Abby；　she　had　hung　expensive　paper　in　the　finest　homes　in　Memphis。　She　talked　constantly；　but　wasted　no　motion。　She　cut　precisely；　like　a　surgeon；　then　applied　glue　like　an　artist。　While　it　dried；　she　removed　her　tape　measure　from　her　leather　work　belt　and　analyzed　the　remaining　corner　of　the　dining　room。　She　mumbled　numbers　which　Abby　could　not　decipher。　She　gauged　the　length　and　height　in　four　different　places；　then　mitted　it　all　to　memory。　She　ascended　the　stepladder　and　instructed　Abby　to　hand　her　a　roll　of　paper。　It　fit　perfectly。　She　pressed　it　firmly　to　the　wall　and　mented　for　the　hundredth　time　on　how　nice　the　paper　was；　how　expensive；　how　long　it　would　look　good　and　last。　She　liked　the　color　too。　It　blended　wonderfully　with　the　curtains　and　the　rug。　Abby　had　long　since　grown　tired　of　saying　thanks。　She　nodded　and　looked　at　her　watch。　It　was　time　to　start　dinner。
　　When　the　wall　was　finished；　Abby　announced　it　was　quitting　time　and　asked　her　to　return　at　nine　the　next　morning。　The　lady　said　certainly；　and　began　cleaning　up　her　mess。　She　was　being　paid　twelve　dollars　an　hour；　cash；　and　was　agreeable　to　almost　anything。　Abby　admired　the　room。　They　would　finish　it　tomorrow；　and　the　wallpapering　would　be　plete　except　for　two　bathrooms　and　the　den。　The　painting　was　scheduled　to　begin　next　week。　The　glue　from　the　paper　and　the　wet　lacquer　from　the　mantel　and　the　newness　of　the　furniture　bined　for　a　wonderful　fresh　aroma。　Just　like　a　new　house。
　　Abby　said　goodbye　to　the　paperhanger　and　went　to　the　bedroom　where　she　undressed　and　lay　across　her　bed。　She　called　her　husband；　spoke　briefly　to　Nina　and　was　told　he　was　in　a　meeting　and　would　be　a　while。　Nina　said　he　would　call。　Abby　stretched　her　long；　sore　legs　and　rubbed　her　shoulders。　The　ceiling　fan　spun　slowly　above　her。　Mitch　would　be　home；　eventually。　He　would　work　a　hundred　hours　a　week　for　a　while；　then　cut　back　to　eighty。　She　could　wait。
　　She　awoke　an　hour　later　and　jumped　from　the　bed。　It　was　almost　six。　Veal　piccata。　Veal　piccata。　She　stepped　into　a　pair　of　khaki　walking　shorts　and　slipped　on　a　white　polo。　She　ran　to　the　kitchen；　which　was　finished　except　for　some　paint　and　a　set　of　curtains　due　in　next　week。　She　found　the　recipe　in　a　pasta　cookbook　and　arranged　the　ingredients　neatly　on　the　countertop。　There　had　been　little　red　meat　in　law　school；　maybe　an　occasional　hamburger　steak。　When　she　cooked；　it　had　been　chicken　this　or　chicken　that。　There　had　been　a　lot　of　sandwiches　and　hot　dogs。
　　But　now；　with　all　this　sudden　affluence；　it　was　time　to　learn　to　cook。　In　the　first　week　she　prepared　something　new　every　night；　and　they　ate　whenever　he　got　home。　She　planned　the　meals；　studied　the　cookbooks；　experimented　with　the　sauces。　For　no　apparent　reason；　Mitch　liked　Italian　food；　and　with　spaghetti　and　pork　cappellini　tried　and　perfected；　it　was　time　for　veal　piccata。　She　pounded　the　veal　scallops　with　a　mallet　until　they　were　thin　enough；　then　laid　them　in　flour　seasoned　with　salt　and　pepper。　She　put　a　pan　of　water　on　the　burner　for　the　linguine。　She　poured　a　glass　of　Chablis　and　turned　on　the　radio。　She　had　called　the　office　twice　since　lunch；　a