Three Classic Thrillers (5 page)

“It’s delicious,” said Lamar as he buttered another roll.

“It’s always delicious,” added Mr. Lambert as Roosevelt walked by. “Her food is rich and fattening, but we seldom miss lunch.”

Mitch ate cautiously, engaged in nervous chitchat and tried to appear completely at ease. It was difficult.
Surrounded by eminently successful lawyers, all millionaires, in their exclusive, lavishly ornamented dining suite, he felt as if he was on hallowed ground. Lamar’s presence was comforting, as was Roosevelt’s.

When it was apparent Mitch had finished eating, Oliver Lambert wiped his mouth, rose slowly and tapped his tea glass with his spoon. “Gentlemen, could I have your attention.”

The room became silent as the twenty or so partners turned to the head table. They laid their napkins down and stared at the guest. Somewhere on each of their desks was a copy of the dossier. Two months earlier they had voted unanimously to make him their number one pick. They knew he ran four miles a day, did not smoke, was allergic to sulfites, had no tonsils, had a blue Mazda, had a crazy mother and once threw three interceptions in one quarter. They knew he took nothing stronger than aspirin even when he was sick, and that he was hungry enough to work a hundred hours a week if they asked. They liked him. He was good-looking, athletic-looking, a man’s man with a brilliant mind and a lean body.

“As you know, we have a very special guest today, Mitch McDeere. He will soon graduate with honors from Harvard—”

“Hear! Hear!” said a couple of Harvard alumni.

“Yes, thank you. He and his wife, Abby, are staying at the Peabody this weekend as our guests. Mitch will finish in the top five out of three hundred and has been heavily recruited. We want him here, and I know you will speak to him before he leaves. Tonight he will have dinner with Lamar and Kay Quin, and then tomorrow night is the dinner at my place. You are all expected to attend.” Mitch smiled awkwardly at the
partners as Mr. Lambert rambled on about the greatness of the firm. When he finished, they continued eating as Roosevelt served bread pudding and coffee.

Kay’s favorite restaurant was a chic East Memphis hangout for the young affluent. A thousand ferns hung from everywhere and the jukebox played nothing but early sixties. The daiquiris were served in tall souvenir glasses.

“One is enough,” Kay warned.

“I’m not much of a drinker.”

They ordered the quiche of the day and sipped daiquiris.

“Does Mitch drink?”

“Very little. He’s an athlete and very particular about his body. An occasional beer or glass of wine, nothing stronger. How about Lamar?”

“About the same. He really discovered beer in law school, but he has trouble with his weight. The firm frowns on drinking.”

“That’s admirable, but why is it their business?”

“Because alcohol and lawyers go together like blood and vampires. Most lawyers drink like fish, and the profession is plagued with alcoholism. I think it starts in law school. At Vanderbilt, someone was always tapping a keg of beer. Probably the same at Harvard. The job has a lot of pressure, and that usually means a lot of booze. These guys aren’t a bunch of teetotalers, mind you, but they keep it under control. A healthy lawyer is a productive lawyer. Again, profits.”

“I guess that makes sense. Mitch says there’s no turnover.”

“It’s rather permanent. I can’t recall anyone leaving in the seven years we’ve been here. The money’s great and they’re careful about whom they hire. They don’t want anyone with family money.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“They won’t hire a lawyer with other sources of income. They want them young and hungry. It’s a question of loyalty. If all your money comes from one source, then you tend to be very loyal to that source. The firm demands extreme loyalty. Lamar says there’s never talk of leaving. They’re all happy, and either rich or getting that way. And if one wanted to leave, he couldn’t find as much money with another firm. They’ll offer Mitch whatever it takes to get you down here. They take great pride in paying more.”

“Why no female lawyers?”

“They tried it once. She was a real bitch and kept the place in an uproar. Most women lawyers walk around with chips on their shoulders looking for fights. They’re hard to deal with. Lamar says they’re afraid to hire one because they couldn’t fire her if she didn’t work out, with affirmative action and all.”

The quiche arrived and they declined another round of daiquiris. Hundreds of young professionals crowded under the clouds of ferns, and the restaurant grew festive. Smokey Robinson sang softly from the jukebox.

“I’ve got a great idea,” Kay said. “I know a realtor. Let’s call her and go look at some houses.”

“What kind of houses?”

“For you and Mitch. For the newest associate at Bendini, Lambert & Locke. She can show you several in your price range.”

“I don’t know our price range.”

“I’d say a hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand. The last associate bought in Oakgrove, and I’m sure he paid something like that.”

Abby leaned forward and almost whispered, “How much would the monthly payments be?”

“I don’t know. But you’ll be able to afford it. Around a thousand a month, maybe a little more.”

Abby stared at her and swallowed hard. The small apartments in Manhattan were renting for twice that. “Let’s give her a call.”

As expected, Royce McKnight’s office was a power one with a great view. It was in one of the prized corners on the fourth floor, down the hall from Nathan Locke. Lamar excused himself, and the managing partner asked Mitch to have a seat at a small conference table next to the sofa. A secretary was sent for coffee.

McKnight asked him about his visit so far, and Mitch said he was quite impressed.

“Mitch, I want to nail down the specifics of our offer.”

“Certainly.”

“The base salary is eighty thousand for the first year. When you pass the bar exam you receive a five-thousand-dollar raise. Not a bonus, but a raise. The exam is given sometime in August and you’ll spend most of your summer reviewing for it. We have our own bar study courses and you’ll receive extensive tutoring from some of the partners. This is done primarily on firm time. As you know, most firms put you to work and expect you to study on your own time. Not us. No associate of this firm has ever flunked the bar
exam, and we’re not worried about you breaking with tradition. Eighty thousand initially, up to eighty-five in six months. Once you’ve been here a year, you’ll be raised to ninety thousand, plus you’ll get a bonus each December based on the profits and performance during the prior twelve months. Last year the average bonus for associates was nine thousand. As you know, profit sharing with associates is extremely rare for law firms. Any questions about the salary?”

“What happens after the second year?”

“Your base salary is raised about ten percent a year until you become a partner. Neither the raises nor the bonuses are guaranteed. They are based on performance.”

“Fair enough.”

“As you know, it is very important to us that you buy a home. It adds stability and prestige and we’re very concerned about these things, especially with our associates. The firm provides a low-interest mortgage loan, thirty years, fixed rate, nonassumable should you decide to sell in a few years. It’s a one-shot deal, available only for your first home. After that you’re on your own.”

“What kind of rate?”

“As low as possible without running afoul with the IRS. Current market rate is around ten, ten and a half. We should be able to get you a rate of seven to eight percent. We represent some banks, and they assist us. With this salary, you’ll have no trouble qualifying. In fact, the firm will sign on as a guarantor if necessary.”

“That’s very generous, Mr. McKnight.”

“It’s important to us. And we don’t lose any money on the deal. Once you find a house, our real estate section handles everything. All you have to do is move in.”

“What about the BMW?”

Mr. McKnight chuckled. “We started that about ten years ago and it’s proved to be quite an inducement. It’s very simple. You pick out a BMW, one of the smaller ones, we lease it for three years and give you the keys. We pay for tags, insurance, maintenance. At the end of three years you can buy it from the leasing company for the fair market value. It’s also a one-shot deal.”

“That’s very tempting.”

“We know.”

Mr. McKnight looked at his legal pad. “We provide complete medical and dental coverage for the entire family. Pregnancies, checkups, braces, everything. Paid entirely by the firm.”

Mitch nodded, but was not impressed. This was standard.

“We have a retirement plan second to none. For every dollar you invest, the firm matches it with two, provided, however, you invest at least ten percent of your base pay. Let’s say you start at eighty, and the first year you set aside eight thousand. The firm kicks in sixteen, so you’ve got twenty-four after the first year. A money pro in New York handles it and last year our retirement earned nineteen percent. Not bad. Invest for twenty years and you’re a millionaire at forty-five, just off retirement. One stipulation: If you bail out before twenty years, you lose everything but the money you put in, with no income earned on that money.”

“Sounds rather harsh.”

“No, actually it’s rather generous. Find me another firm or company matching two-to-one. There are none, to my knowledge. It’s our way of taking care of ourselves. Many of our partners retire at fifty, some at
forty-five. We have no mandatory retirement, and some work into their sixties and seventies. To each his own. Our goal is simply to ensure a generous pension and make early retirement an option.”

“How many retired partners do you have?”

“Twenty or so. You’ll see them around here from time to time. They like to come in and have lunch and a few keep office space. Did Lamar cover vacations?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Book early, especially for Vail and the Caymans. You buy the air fare, but the condos are free. We do a lot of business in the Caymans and from time to time we’ll send you down for two or three days and write the whole thing off. Those trips are not counted as vacation, and you’ll get one every year or so. We work hard, Mitch, and we recognize the value of leisure.”

Mitch nodded his approval and dreamed of lying on a sun-drenched beach in the Caribbean, sipping on a piña colada and watching string bikinis.

“Did Lamar mention the signing bonus?”

“No, but it sounds interesting.”

“If you join our firm we hand you a check for five thousand. We prefer that you spend the bulk of it on a new wardrobe. After seven years of jeans and flannel shirts, your inventory of suits is probably low, and we realize it. Appearance is very important to us. We expect our attorneys to dress sharp and conservative. There’s no dress code, but you’ll get the picture.”

Did he say five thousand dollars? For clothes? Mitch currently owned two suits, and he was wearing one of them. He kept a straight face and did not smile.

“Any questions?”

“Yes. The large firms are infamous for being
sweatshops where the associates are flooded with tedious research and locked away in some library for the first three years. I want no part of that. I don’t mind doing my share of research and I realize I will be the low man on the pole. But I don’t want to research and write briefs for the entire firm. I’d like to work with real clients and their real problems.”

Mr. McKnight listened intently and waited with his rehearsed answer. “I understand, Mitch. You’re right, it is a real problem in the big firms. But not here. For the first three months you’ll do little but study for the bar exam. When that’s over, you begin practicing law. You’ll be assigned to a partner, and his clients will become your clients. You’ll do most of his research and, of course, your own, and occasionally you’ll be asked to assist someone else with the preparation of a brief or some research. We want you happy. We take pride in our zero turnover rate, and we go the extra mile to keep careers on track. If you can’t get along with your partner, we’ll find another one. If you discover you don’t like tax, we’ll let you try securities or banking. It’s your decision. The firm will soon invest a lot of money in Mitch McDeere, and we want him to be productive.”

Mitch sipped his coffee and searched for another question. Mr. McKnight glanced at his checklist.

“We pay all moving expenses to Memphis.”

“That won’t be much. Just a small rental truck.”

“Anything else, Mitch?”

“No, sir. I can’t think of anything.”

The checklist was folded and placed in the file. The partner rested both elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Mitch, we’re not pushing, but we need an answer as soon as possible. If you go elsewhere, we
must then continue to interview. It’s a lengthy process, and we’d like our new man to start by July 1.”

“Ten days soon enough?”

“That’s fine. Say by March 30?”

“Sure, but I’ll contact you before then.” Mitch excused himself, and found Lamar waiting in the hall outside McKnight’s office. They agreed on seven for dinner.

T
here were no law offices on the fifth floor of the Bendini Building. The partners’ dining room and kitchen occupied the west end, some unused and unpainted storage rooms sat locked and empty in the center, then a thick concrete wall sealed off the remaining third of the floor. A small metal door with a button beside it and a camera over it hung in the center of the wall and opened into a small room where an armed guard watched the door and monitored a wall of closed-circuit screens. A hallway zigzagged through a maze of cramped offices and workrooms where an assortment of characters went secretly about their business of watching and gathering information. The windows to the outside were sealed with paint and covered with blinds. The sunlight stood no chance of penetrating the fortress.

DeVasher, head of security, occupied the largest of the small, plain offices. The lone certificate on his bare walls recognized him for thirty years of dedicated service as a detective with the New Orleans Police Department. He was stocky with a slight belly,
thick shoulders and chest and a huge, perfectly round head that smiled with great reluctance. His wrinkled shirt was mercifully unbuttoned at the collar, allowing his bulging neck to sag unrestricted. A thick polyester tie hung on the coatrack with a badly worn blazer.