T. Bunn - The Great Divide

Logan led him into the largest salon in the partnership and said, “I don’t believe you’ve met my associate, Suzie Rikkers.”

Suzie Rikkers was an oddity, an outstanding legal analyst and a fair trial lawyer who was constantly on the verge of being fired. What put most people off Suzie Rikkers was her attitude. She alternated between treating life as a battlefield and complaining that people never gave her a chance. Every problem was a personal attack. When she was not angry, her voice clung to an off-pitch mewl. Most of the partners avoided working with her, and the associates and paralegals loathed her. Two things kept Suzie Rikkers on staff-a solid client base, and Logan Kendall. Logan endured her attitude and loved her loyalty. She might be a witch with a buzz-saw voice, but she was his witch.

Suzie Rikkers offered their guest a rail-thin hand. “Mr. Walker.”

“A pleasure I’ve long awaited, Ms. Rikkers.” Randall Walker bowed slightly as he shook hands, then turned to admire the room. “This place is even more beautiful than I’d been led to believe.”

The firm’s inner sanctum reeked of legal heritage and beeswax polish. When the old courthouse was torn down, the firm had acquired the chief superior court justice’s private chambers. Paneling of South American mahogany graced three walls. The fourth wall was an enormous expanse of glass.

Logan turned to the side table where a coffee service of bone china had been set up. “How do you take your coffee, Randall?”

“Black, two sugars.” He continued his circuit of the interior walls. A pair of Chagall lithographs and a silk Kashmiri tapestry splashed the room with color. “I believe Mr. Glenwood was responsible for your acquiring the fittings of this room as well. Charlie Hayes, the old chief justice, was a personal friend, was he not?”

Logan’s hand jerked hard enough to spill coffee onto the saucer. He set down the pot and used a napkin to dry the stain. His back to the room, he replied, “Like I said, we all played a role in the move.”

“Yes, yes, of course you did. And my, what a lovely setting. Mr. Glenwood certainly made a splendid choice. The view from here is magnificent, wouldn’t you say, Ms. Rikkers?”

Logan turned in time to watch Suzie grind out the single word, “Great.” Marcus Glenwood had twice put his name to her being passed over for partner. And after she had hounded his favorite paralegal until the woman left for another firm, Marcus had spent months trying to gather enough support to have Suzie fired. Defeating that motion was the one battle Logan had managed to win outright against Marcus Glenwood.

“Thank you, Logan.” Randall accepted his cup and pointed toward the sunlit day. “Is that White Memorial’s steeple I see out there?”

“I have no idea.” Logan poured himself a cup and sat down. He did not need to admire the view. The first weekend after being made partner, Logan had spent an entire Saturday afternoon sitting in one of these padded suede chairs. Raleigh was full of parks and trees old enough to blanket all but the tallest buildings. Away from downtown, steeples rose like pointed reminders that this was indeed a city and not merely well-tended woodlands.

Instead of taking the expected seat at the head of the table next to Logan, Randall walked around the conference table and stood up close to the window. After a loud sip from his cup he declared, “Do you know, I can stand right here and point to five of our clients’ headquarters. No, make that six. I’m almost positive that’s the roofline of the Burroughs headquarters I see out there in the distance.” He turned back and beamed at the room. “Must make you feel like the lords of all you survey, sitting up here in this fine chamber. Speaking of which, Logan, I believe congratulations are in order. You’ve recently been made partner, is that not correct?”

“Yes.” Four months tomorrow, to be exact. Some days he could scarcely believe he had made the grade. Most days, however, he felt like he had been at it for a lifetime.

The grand smile turned to where Suzie sat sipping her coffee. “And I have no doubt your own star will soon be rising, Ms. Rikkers.” He paused for another slurp, then added, “Especially now that your nemesis has been removed.” Randall Walker turned back to the vista. He shook his head in admiration. “My, my.”

Logan demanded, “Could you tell us why you called this meeting?”

“Why, I thought that would be clear by now. I wish to discuss Marcus Glenwood.” Before they could recover, he continued. “Logan, you have been with this firm for eight years, if my information is correct. And Ms. Rikkers, you’ve been here a bit longer now, isn’t that right?”

Suzie gave Logan a startled glance, searching for her cue. “Almost nine.”

“Actually, it’s ten next month, isn’t that correct?” He continued to address his questions to the window. “Logan, you are from Baltimore, do I have that right?”

“I fail to see-”

“University of Maryland undergrad and UVA law. Married a woman from Raleigh who was studying art history at that fine Jeffersonian establishment. Three lovely children, two boys and one girl who is approaching her second birthday as we speak.” Another noisy sip. “And you, Ms. Rikkers, hail from Chicago, our nation’s fine and windy city. Undergrad and law school at Northwestern. And still unmarried, a fact I find most astonishing. It must be from preference, certainly not from lack of opportunity.” His speech held a courtly air, as though bestowing a royal welcome. “Marcus was born in the Philadelphia area. Although his roots are mostly from these parts.”

Suzie Rikkers’ voice had the metallic quality of having been pounded flat on an anvil. “Why have you been checking up on me?”

“That’s simple enough, Ms. Rikkers. I like to know the people I’m addressing.” Randall finally turned from the window and slid into the seat directly across the table from them. “Now perhaps you would be so kind as to give me your impressions of your recently departed colleague.”

Logan studied the man across from them. In the space of a few minutes Randall Walker had entered their domain and wrested control, and done so with the kindliest of manners. The man certainly lived up to his reputation. Randall Walker had been the youngest person ever to serve upon the federal appellate bench. After holding that position for eight years, he had formed a partnership that now included two former senators and a retired governor among its ranks. Randall served on the board of over a dozen Fortune 500 companies, and acted as outside counsel to another five or six. He charged 450 dollars an hour, the highest rate of any lawyer in the state.

“Marcus Glenwood is history,” Suzie Rikkers snapped. “That’s all you need to know.”

Randall nodded benignly. “He must have been quite a good trial attorney, to have risen to partnership in less than six years.”

“So-so. He had great connections.” Suzie’s nails did a nervous dance upon the table. “Most of them through his wife. Her family was serious old money.”

“His wife, yes. You represented her in their divorce, what was her name?”

“Carol Clay Rice.”

“That’s right. As in Rice Communications and the Rice Foundation.”

Logan disliked being blindsided, and he distrusted the man’s courtly manner. He remained silent and let Suzie respond. “Marcus was dirt-poor. I learned that from his former mother-in-law. His parents split up and disappeared when he was about ten. He was raised by his grandparents.”

Randall smiled delightedly, as though Suzie was bestowing the wisdom of the ages. “Did you ever work with him on a trial?”

“Once. He went down in flames.”