by Peter Murphy
‘Hun, y’all need anything? ’Cause I’m outta here. I’m fixin’ to take Bubba to get doctored.’ Arlene is from Lubbock, Texas.
She is a single mother. Bubba is her ten-year-old son, and apparently it is already written in the stars that he is destined to play wide receiver for Texas Tech. She moved from Lubbock about two years ago, after Larry, her then husband and Bubba’s father, finally revealed to her from the bottom of his whisky glass that he had gambled away the last dollar they had between them, and that the matrimonial home was about to be repossessed to repay his debts. In addition, he added almost as an afterthought, he had lost his job. He had coached high school football, teaching ninth and tenth grade biblical studies as his contribution to the children’s academic development. But now, school board and parents alike had concluded that the example he set to the young of the town was no longer satisfactory.
Somehow, via a complicated family connection, Arlene ended up in Arlington, and one day she ended up in my office begging for a job, as if her life depended on it, which in a sense it probably did. She had no prior experience of running a law office, and the references she brought from her local library and her vet’s office, where she had worked previously, were no more than formally complimentary about her organisational skills. But there was something about her. I took a chance. I gave her the job, and I have never taken a better decision in the practice of law. Within two weeks, she had the office humming like a well-oiled machine. We never missed a date for a court hearing or to file a pleading; our paperwork was impeccable; the clients received their bills promptly and they paid them promptly.
There’s something else, too. She joined me about two months before the Week. When the Week hit and I closed the office, I paid her what I could afford to tide her over, which wasn’t enough, and released her, feeling sure I would never see her again. She owed me nothing. But on the morning I reopened she was there, waiting for me at the door at eight o’clock, and she has been with me every day since. And for that I will love her forever.
‘No, thanks, Arlene, I’m good. Go. Is Bubba OK?’
‘Oh, sure, hun. He’ll be fine. He pulled something in his leg going up for a high pass in training last week. I just wanna be sure he ain’t fixin’ to do any real damage if he trains this week. His coach says it’s just a little strain, nothing ice won’t fix, but you know me and coaches. I never can quite trust them any more.’
I laughed. ‘I know. Get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
She looked down at the mass of paper on my table.
‘What did Lily Langtry want? Are you gonna take it?’
‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘It’s a debt collection.’
‘A debt collection? That must be one helluva debt.’
‘It is. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’
‘Will you tell me before you decide?’
‘You know I will.’
‘Well, all right, then. Don’t stay here all night, y’all.’
That was the night the dreams started. To this day, I cannot begin to describe the vivid impression the dreams made on me, or explain the detailed recall I had of them when I awoke. They even surpass the horrifying reality of my nightmares after the Week, and they remain with me today.
6
It is night time, very dark. I can’t see the moon or stars. It is bitterly and mercilessly cold, with thick snow on the ground and a vicious, cutting wind from the north. I am standing at the foot of a steep hill. The area is heavily wooded. At the top of the hill is a large house. Lights are burning inside. Below me, on the lower ground, is a military encampment. There are rows of tents stretching in every direction. There are some fires burning, and some lanterns. I hear the muted voices of the soldiers, occasionally the voice of a woman, the neighing of a horse, the barking of a dog.
A man is walking slowly up the hill towards the house. He is tall and thin, and wears a long grey great coat, black boots, and a short three-cornered hat of the kind favoured by officers. He seems troubled. I sense this not from his face, which I cannot see in the shadows as he walks away from me, but from his posture and gait, which are uncertain and slow. I follow him up the hill. He approaches the house and pauses before the door. He waits for some time, as if he has not yet decided whether or not he wishes to enter. When he is ready, he knocks, boldly, three times. A servant opens the door to admit him.
We pass into a large living room. The ceiling is low. Because the man is so tall, he must take care not to come too close to the corner beams with his head. The wood that forms the beams looks thick and solid, and shines pleasantly in the warm glow of the log fire in the fireplace on the far side of the room. The room is simply furnished, but everything – the chairs, the tables, the carefully arranged bookcases – looks tasteful, expensive.
A man is standing in front of the fireplace with his back to the fire, holding a pewter tankard. There is something about his demeanor which marks him out as the master of the house. The servant escorts the visitor to the fireplace. He has taken the visitor’s hat and great coat, and now I can see that the visitor is wearing a rough-hewn brown jacket and breeches, which feels odd to me, because I am sure that he is a man of breeding.
‘God save you, General Washington,’ the master of the house says, taking the visitor’s hand. There is something about the handshake. I can’t quite pin it down. ‘This is no night for any of God’s servants to be abroad. You must take a cup of mulled wine.’
‘God save you, Jacob, and all within your house, likewise. Do not trouble yourself, I beg you.’
‘There is no question of trouble.’
He turns to the servant. ‘Ezra, a cup of mulled wine for the General.’
Ezra ladles the wine from the pot where it is warming by the fire into a tankard, hands it to the General, bows, and leaves the two of them alone. Their manner is now more urgent.
‘Are the supplies safely arrived?’ Jacob asks.
‘Aye, they passed safely through the enemy lines, God be praised. Thank you, my friend.’
‘I am glad of it.’
‘The men have food to eat and clothing and boots to keep them warm, and that could not be said when we first came to this place.’
Jacob shakes his head.
‘When you first came to this place? When you first came to this place, a more pitiable sight could not be imagined. It was not to be wondered at that you had suffered defeats in the field. A man cannot fight if he cannot eat, and if he has no boots to march in or weapon to engage the enemy.’
The General takes Jacob’s hand.
‘Jacob, my friend, I have no words of thanks for your generosity which I have not spoken before. You have saved us from starvation and provided us with the means to fight. As soon as this snow melts I will make preparations, and once the weather turns mild we will move against the enemy. We will not let them drive us before them again, I promise you. We are strong, we know our terrain, and in the spring and summer we will prevail.’
‘I rejoice to hear it, General, and I pray daily to God for your victory.’
The General releases the hand.
‘Jacob, there is another matter to speak of. I know that you have used up your fortune to save us.’
Jacob smiles, nodding. ‘Aye. That I have.’
‘You have given everything, and I must ensure that provision is made for you.’
‘It is true that I have given everything, General, but if I may speak freely…?’
‘Certainly.’
‘How could I have done otherwise? These are no times for withholding. Our case is urgent. If we do not give everything now, we are surely lost. If God favours our cause and gives us the victory, He will recompense me. If not… well, if not, I daresay we shall all hang as traitors and I would as soon die a poor traitor as a rich one.’
They laugh together.
‘
Well said, indeed, Jacob. Nonetheless, while God will undoubtedly recompense you, our country owes you a debt on this earth, and I would not leave this place to fight before I have done all in my power to ensure that you are restored in your fortune as quickly as may be.’
‘The Congress has made such provision as can be made to restore the fortunes of those who have given, General. I have certificates from them to acknowledge the debt, and the terms are favorable enough. I am content.’
The General shakes his head.
‘It is not enough, Jacob. Who can say what our fortunes will be once we have our freedom? It may be that we shall have freedom but little else besides, the war having taken everything from us.’
‘In such a case, what is to be done?’ Jacob asks.
‘If I may speak plainly also,’ the General replies, ‘in such a case there is much to be done. But to do it, you must see clearly in what position you will find yourself. You must expect that the Congress will take such steps as they can to avoid or delay payment to their creditors.’
‘General –’
‘You must expect it, I say.’
Jacob seems visibly taken aback.
‘I cannot believe they would act so dishonourably. They must feel gratitude towards those who have given, those who made the victory possible. They must –’
‘It will not be for want of gratitude, Jacob. They are not dishonourable men. It will be out of necessity. The debt will exceed their assets, and even such assets as they have must be expended in large part for the welfare of the people and the safety of the country. So they will send their agents to the loan offices in every state to attend to the business, as they must. But when men come with their certificates to be paid, they will take possession of them. If the amount be small, I doubt not that it will be paid. But if it be so large that it cannot be paid, they may take the certificate without making payment, promising to do so on a future day. They cannot do otherwise.’
Jacob begins to speak, but stops abruptly.
‘Jacob, I wish to counsel you, if you will allow?’
‘By all means, General.’
‘When you bring your certificates to the loan office, do not bring them all at one time. And when you bring them, bring with you also a letter addressed to the highest officer of state in our Treasury. This letter must state that I have invested such influence as I have in ensuring that you are to be repaid. I have staked my credit on it. I am your surety. On his receipt of this letter, every officer of state will take note, and I shall importune every officer of our government on your behalf. Insist on retaining your certificates until I or another officer of state shall have answered the letter, and instructed the loan office to pay you. Do you understand?’
‘I understand, General.’
‘Your fortune may depend on it.’
‘I understand.’
I wake up suddenly. I am freezing. I feel as though I have just walked down the hill from the house wearing nothing except the two-sizes-too-big sweatshirt I sleep in. At five o’clock, I am sitting in my kitchen wearing two sweaters and thick white socks, drinking piping hot soup, with the heater turned up to level six, and still I am freezing.
7
A class action is a special kind of lawsuit, which is brought when a large number of plaintiffs have the same cause of action against the same defendant, for example an insurance company or an industry such as asbestos or tobacco. The plaintiffs are all suing for the same thing, but they may live anywhere in the country, and it obviously wouldn’t work for all of them to sue individually. For one thing, there would be no end to the litigation. It would take forever to dispose of all the claims. For another, there might be inconsistent judgments in different courts, some for the plaintiffs, some for the defendant, which would give rise to huge legal headaches and trigger a fresh round of litigation. To avoid all this, the cases are consolidated in one particular court, which means that the plaintiffs sue as a group, and negotiate and settle as a group.
Sensible as this is, it does pose some problems. The plaintiffs must appoint a lead plaintiff to pursue the litigation on behalf of everyone. Whoever sues first is in pole position to become lead plaintiff, but it doesn’t always work out that way. The attorneys representing the lead plaintiff are going to be the ones making most of the money, because they are doing most of the work and taking most of the financial risks, so there can be some competition for the position. If the lead plaintiff’s attorney is someone like me, or a small firm, they may actually welcome a bigger firm with more people and resources riding to the rescue, and they may have no problem giving up the lead and slip-streaming behind a firm that can match the defendant for muscle power. But not everyone feels that way, and there can be some ugly battles between law firms trying to take over the lead position, battles the court may have to resolve. And while that goes on, the defendant can sit back happily and watch while resources are squandered on in-fighting instead of pursuing the case. And even after that, the legacy of bad blood between the law firms may hamper efforts to negotiate and settle the case; and if the case goes to trial, there may be some big egos arguing about who should be lead trial counsel.
To my amazement, I find myself playing through these scenarios in my head and getting territorial about a case I haven’t even accepted, imagining arguments to persuade the judge that I should continue as lead counsel and march the members of the van Eyck class on to a famous victory. The only realistic part of my fantasy is that Sam and I would be the first to sue. Not much doubt about that.
Getting the case up and running would be simple enough, and, for me, would be like having home field advantage. For cases like this, contractual claims against the federal government, you sue in the United States Claims Court, a court in Washington DC established by Congress specifically to deal with such disputes. I am very familiar with litigation in the Claims Court. I’ve had a good number of cases there on behalf of plaintiffs, and I have a good professional relationship with the judges. There isn’t as much competition for that kind of work as there might be.
You would be amazed – or perhaps you wouldn’t – at the number of law firms in and around DC that are squeamish about suing the federal government. So many of them either are, or would love to be connected politically, and are desperate to attract work from the movers and shakers in the capital. They think that if they get caught playing for the away team, it may hurt their prospects of greater intimacy with Washington’s political élite somewhere down the road. I don’t give a rat’s ass about any of that. I have no interest in the political élite, and I have no problem with screwing money out of the federal government in a good cause. It doesn’t bother me even one bit. I like the Claims Court. You can only sue in the Claims Court if your claim is for more than $10,000. That’s one problem we won’t have. So why not?
Arlene was about to tell me why not. We were sitting side by side at my conference table, and I had just outlined for her the case Sam had brought to us, and she was not looking too impressed.
‘Lord have mercy, hun,’ she began. ‘Now, I know that you have been through some tough times. Believe me I do know that, and I understand that, hun. I surely do. But… have y’all lost y’all’s ever-lovin’ mind?’
Odd as it may sound, this was not said at all unkindly.
‘I haven’t said I want to take the case,’ I pointed out.
‘I mean, have you thought this through at all? I mean, do you see an army of secretaries and paralegals anywhere in this office? ’Cause I sure don’t. It’s you and me, darlin’. That’s it. And do you know how much money it would take to get this show on the road? Do you see a spare million or two in y’all’s bank accounts? ’Cause I sure don’t.’
‘I haven’t said –’
‘Sorry, hun, but this dog won’t hunt.’
I took a deep breath.
‘I haven’t said I want to take the case.’
>
‘You haven’t said you don’t want to.’
‘I haven’t talked to Sam since she left the paperwork with me. I asked her to call me today.’
She nodded. ‘Well, all right then. But may I take it that when she calls, you will refer her on to someone else?’
‘Like who?’ I asked.
It was something I had been asking myself ever since I had bought myself the time to think it over. I couldn’t just throw her out on the street without making some effort to make sure that she ended up with a lawyer who would do justice to her case. Well, in theory I could, but in my own mind I was well past that point with Sam now. Whether or not I had any strict professional duty, I had taken on the burden of making sure she was OK. That didn’t mean I had to take the case myself, but it did mean that I had to find the right lawyer or firm for her.
With most cases that came into the office, that wouldn’t have been a problem. I had a network of lawyers I could refer cases to, and accept cases from, when needed. But with this case, none of the names I was coming up with seemed right. Even Don Quixote and Associates would think twice about this one. This wasn’t just tilting at windmills; it was tilting at a whole wind farm – a class action-size wind farm. You could spend a lot of money on this case, and the chances of ever making a single cent would still be in the range of negligible to zero. Even if Jacob had been provided with loan certificates, even if those certificates still existed – and those were huge ifs – you would have to find them. Without them, you would have no chance at all. But where would you even start looking? I felt pretty sure that any law firm big enough to handle this case would laugh in my face for even suggesting it. Actually, I wouldn’t mind that. I just didn’t want them laughing in Sam’s face.