Fletch Won by Gregory McDonald Read Free Book Online Page A

modest amount he posted himself. His reason for doing so and rushing off, he told the court, was that he was obliged to take his fifteen-year-old dog to the dentist.”
    “Had he an appointment?”
    “Unbreakable.”
    “A mission of mercy.”
    “Doubtlessly the court is now prejudiced in his favor.”
    “You’re not about to tell me he was lying to the court?”
    “Well, he told us, or, rather, he told Mr. Haller, that while he was in court, the dog, waiting to be brought to the dentist, was howling so in pain, a neighbor shot him.”
    Fletch shook his head. “He needn’t have rushed.” He salted his peanut butter-banana-and-mayonnaise sandwich. “Tell me, did he call up and cancel the dentist’s appointment?”
    “He didn’t say.”
    “I’m trying to gauge the degree of this man’s honesty, you see, his concern for the social contract.”
    “In meetings, I am not allowed to put forth such questions.”
    “I forgot. You’re a hanging plant.”
    “That, or whatever is put at the base of plants to aid their growth.”
    “I’m surprised Mr. Haller, being senior partner in animportant law firm, would be interviewing a simple burglar himself. Why would he be taking on a burglar as a client?”
    “Ah, Fletch, you are innocent as to how law firms, and thus the law, works.”
    “I thought I knew a few things.”
    “I’ll bet you thought law firms practice law.”
    “They don’t?”
    “That’s not their primary function.”
    “It isn’t?”
    “No. What they actually practice is something called cooling the client.”
    “Do they teach that in law school?”
    “No. Which is why starters, such as myself, work in law firms a few years at just enough above the minimum wage to keep us in clean collars. Because it is not being taught in law schools, we must learn this technique essential to keeping the law firm afloat.”
    “So what’s ‘cooling the client’?”
    “When a client first knocks on the door of a law firm as ambitious as Habeck, Harrison and Haller, the law firm’s first job is to discover how much the client—the client, not the case—is worth. It takes experience and wisdom to make such an assessment.”
    “I don’t see how what the client is worth has to do with what the case is worth.”
    “Suppose it’s a simple, straightforward case. But the senior partner, who conducts the first interview, discovers the client is rich. Under the circumstances, what would you do?”
    “Practice law.”
    “How little you know. You cool the client. The senior partner, having made an assessment of the client’s worth, decides how much of his wealth the law firm will take from him in fees, regardless of how simple or complicated the case is. It would amaze you to know how a talented lawfirm can complicate the most simple case by creating setbacks, other delays, filing wrong or useless motions, petitions, initiating incorrect lines of argument, et cetera. The object, you see, is to keep the case going as long as possible, all the while milking the client for nearly every penny he or she may be worth. If, despite the law firm’s best efforts, the case is ever brought to a conclusion, and if the law firm has done a masterful job of cooling the client consistently throughout his ordeal, the client ends up impoverished and very, very grateful.”
    “Pardon me, Counselor, but isn’t that called robbery?”
    “In the law, it’s called building a solid reputation.”
    “Supposing, Counselor, in the initial interview, the senior partner discovers this particular client isn’t rich enough to be worth robbing?”
    “One of three things happens. First, the client could be persuaded that his case could be handled just as well, and more cheaply, by a smaller, less prestigious law firm. Which law firm, incidentally, is expected to kick back to the recommending law firm a percentage of whatever fees the poor client is able to pay.”
    “The rich get richer.”
    “And the poor get screwed. Or, second,