The Widow By John Grisham - 2

The rest of the day was shot. He couldn’t stomach the thought of sitting for an hour with Mr. and Mrs. Pendergrast as they squabbled over who was to blame for their financial problems. Simon’s speciality was bankruptcies and they were often more trouble than divorces, which he loathed. He called the Pendergrasts and canceled with one of the many standard lawyer fibs used to duck and weave: he said he was suddenly needed in federal court. But he really wasn’t needed anywhere. The most pressing file on his desk involved the purchase and sale of an ice-cream shop down the street, a $20,000 deal for which he might earn a fee of a thousand bucks or so.

Suddenly, every file seemed so trivial. An elderly client with $16 million in stocks and more in cash had just left his office with a current will that left her fortune to a rat-faced little lawyer across the street. Simon could think of nothing else. As soon as Matilda said goodbye promptly at five, he left ten minutes later and drove to a watering hole in a motel bar out near the interstate. It was favored by lawyers and judges who didn’t want to be seen drinking too much in town, though there were some who drank openly and excessively. Luckily, none of them were there, and Simon nursed a beer in a dark corner and tried to sort out his thoughts.

First things first. He had to see the will to verify that his dear Netty was telling the truth. It was still hard to believe that a lawyer, any lawyer, would be brazen enough to insert himself in a will and have unfettered access to an entire fortune. But the fact that he, the Honorable Simon Latch, was thinking of doing something very similar to that made him realize it was indeed possible. Upon Netty’s death, there would certainly be a massive legal brawl with lawsuits flying, but the only named trustee, at the moment one Wally Thackerman, would be in the driver’s seat.

Of course the fortune wouldn’t be $20 million. Last time he checked, the state and federal estate taxes were 40 percent, almost all of which could be avoided with the marital trust. However, since Netty had no husband, her estate would be on the chopping block and fair game for the tax collectors. Eight million in taxes up in smoke. He actually grimaced at the thought of paying so much to the government.

But $12 million was still more than he would earn working for thirty years at the corner of Main and Maple. Then he remembered something he’d read in a newspaper. Congress had been tinkering with the tax rates before its December recess. He couldn’t recall the details and usually did a half-ass job of staying informed, because his clients never worried about gift and estate taxes.

He called a buddy from law school who practiced in a prestigious tax firm in D.C., an hour away. After the usual chatter, he got around to business. Dirk, his friend, laughed and said, “Come on, Simon. You haven’t heard the big news?”

“I guess not.”

“Congress adjourned without repealing the amendment.”

Simon wasn’t sure what that meant so he kept quiet. Dirk liked to talk anyway. “Those clowns dropped the ball big-time. The estate tax deal fell through, no compromise, no tax. Zero, zilch, nada. For the next twelve months there will be no federal estate taxes, and, since most states follow the Feds, now is the perfect time to die. So tell your geezer clients to get their shit in order and get ready to pull the plug. Have a big Christmas this year, then it’s adios. Their kids and grandkids will love them for it.”

“Right! I saw that. What a screw-up.”

“Par for the course these days.”

As the conversation drifted dangerously close to politics, Simon switched gears and asked about another law school classmate who was battling cancer. Since both were busy lawyers, they managed to wrap up the conversation with promises to get together soon.

Back to $20 million! Simon got another beer and thought about the conversation for a long time. Later, he would go online and do some research, try to find out why Congress allowed the estate tax provisions to slip away. As if one might be able to understand anything Congress did.