Chapter 9: I Barely Know Him
At four forty on review day, Ruth placed the committee's resolution in front of me and told me not to touch it until outside counsel finished speaking.
The independent committee had reviewed performance reports, renewal terms, conflict disclosures, and the firm's response. I had seen none of its deliberations and cast no vote.
Outside counsel read the decision aloud.
The Hale Family Trust would not renew the Wexler firm's vendor contracts when the current term expired. No new matters would be assigned. Existing files would transfer under supervised preservation protocols.
Formal non-renewal.
The resolution cited missed reporting deadlines, unexplained rate changes, inadequate conflict controls, and the firm's decision to let one partner dominate a client relationship without ever meeting the trustee.
Grant was not the whole reason.
He was simply named in every reason.
Nine days after the anniversary, on the review date Victor's board had scheduled years before Grant planned his dinner.
The vote was unanimous.
Ruth slid me the recusal certificate first. Only after I signed acknowledgment of that did she hand me the resolution.
At four fifty-three, the notice went to Martin Voss.
At four fifty-eight, Martin called.
I am placing Grant on internal suspension, he said. Effective immediately, pending review of his conflict disclosures and stewardship of the Hale account.
That is the firm's decision?
Mine now. The partners vote tonight.
Grant shouted something behind him.
Martin covered the receiver badly.
Grant, stop. Your firm badge is suspended. Leave it on the desk.
The line went dead.
My email chimed. The non-renewal notice required transfer of active matters within thirty days and reserved every right concerning past billing. It made no accusation. The transferred files would determine what the firm examined next.
At five thirty, Owen and I arrived at the firm to witness transfer of the trust's sealed client inventory. Outside counsel did the touching. I did the counting.
Eleven file cases. Four encrypted drives. One undisclosed legacy Hale token hidden behind Grant's desk files after he had certified that every access credential was surrendered.
Martin bagged the backup token himself. Finding it converted a conflict problem into a preservation problem.
Grant stood at the far end of reception with a suspension letter in his hand.
Half the lights on the floor were already off. Martin had gathered the associates assigned to Hale work and told them their jobs would be protected during reassignment. Grant had apparently asked whether his compensation would receive the same courtesy.
It would not.
You came to enjoy this? he asked.
I came because your firm found trust property in your drawer.
It is a token, Nora.
So was the ring. Look how that went.
Owen coughed into his sleeve.
The elevator opened behind us. Sabrina stepped out with two associates from litigation, speaking brightly about drinks upstairs.
Grant moved toward her.
Sabrina.
She stopped because everyone stopped.
He held up the letter.
Tell them, he said. Tell them what has been happening. Tell them this is personal.
Her face changed by one careful degree.
One associate looked at the other.
Sabrina, the first woman asked, is it true about you and Grant?
Sabrina glanced toward the conference room where Marcus was closing the review binder.
Then she laughed.
God, no, she said. I barely know him, really. We just worked together.
Grant did not speak.
Martin's assistant approached with a cardboard box and asked him to surrender his badge, firm phone, and keys.
He placed them inside one at a time while the elevator doors waited.
Badge.
Phone.
Office key.
At six oh four, the partners ratified his suspension by secure vote.
At six ten, the non-renewal receipt entered the firm's records.
And at six eleven, Sabrina posted a photograph from the rooftop bar upstairs.
Marcus Vale's watch was visible beside her glass.
The caption said: Grateful for the people who show up.