The Exchange: After The Firm

Stephen Stodghill was a fifth-year senior associate from a small town in Kansas who had excelled at the University of Chicago Law School. Mitch had a secret bias in favor of the small-town kids who were succeeding nicely in the big leagues. He asked Stephen to join the team and was not surprised when he jumped at the chance. There were no snide jokes about what happened to the last associate Mitch had picked. They were still trying to find her.

Giovanna’s plight was on the minds of every Scully lawyer, all two thousand of them in thirty-one offices around the world. There was much concern and quiet talk as they went about their work, waiting. Always waiting for news of the next development. In the Atlanta and Houston offices, small groups of lawyers and employees met for coffee and prayer early each morning. A female partner in Orlando was married to an Episcopal priest who was thoughtful enough to stop by the office for a moment of prayer.

Mitch worked late on Thursday afternoon and met for an hour with Stephen to begin the arduous process of covering all aspects of Lannak Construction versus The Republic of Libya. The file was four thousand pages thick and counting. Scully had retained eight experts who were preparing to testify on such topics as bridge design, architecture, construction methods, materials, pricing, delays, and so on. The idea of an exotic case in a foreign country excited Stephen at first, but the fun wore off quickly as they plowed through the material.

Mitch left at seven and had a quiet evening with Abby and the boys. He returned at eight the next morning and found Stephen exactly where he had left him — at the small worktable in one corner of his office. When Mitch realized what had happened, he dropped his head as he shook it.

“Let me guess. An all-nighter?”

“Yes, I really had nothing else to do and I got into it. Fascinating.”

Mitch had worked his share of brutal hours, but he had never felt compelled to pull an all-nighter. Such feats were common in Big Law, and were supposed to be admired and hopefully add to the legend of some gunner aiming for an early partnership. Mitch had no patience with it.

But Stephen was single and his girlfriend was an associate at another large law firm and suffering the same abuse. He wanted to propose but couldn’t find the time. She wanted to get married but worried they’d never see each other. When they managed to meet for a late dinner they often nodded off after the first cocktail.

Mitch smiled and said, “Okay, a new rule. If you want to remain on this case you cannot work more than sixteen hours a day on it. Understood?”

“I guess.”

“Then guess again. Listen to me, Stephen. I am now the attorney of record, and that means I’m your boss. Do not work more than sixteen hours a day on this case. Am I clear?”

“Got it, boss.”

“That’s more like it. Now get out of my office.”

Stephen jumped to his feet and grabbed a pile of papers. On his way out he said, “Say, boss, I was fooling around last night on the internet and found the video, the one with the chain saw. Have you seen it?”

“No. Not going to.”

“Smart. I wish I’d never seen it because I’ll never forget it. That’s one reason I stayed up all night. Couldn’t sleep. Probably won’t sleep tonight either.”

“You should’ve known better.”

“Yes, I should have. The screaming—”

“That’s enough, Stephen. Go find something else to do.”

Another day passed with no word from the kidnappers or those trying to find them. Then another. Mitch began each morning with a security briefing with Cory in Jack Ruch’s office. By closed-circuit, they listened with increasing frustration to Darian’s updates from North Africa. He did a credible job of filling twenty minutes with what-might-happen-next, but the truth was he was guessing.