The law ﬁrm of Finley & Figg referred to itself as a “boutique ﬁrm.” This misnomer was inserted as often as possible into routine conversations, and it even appeared in print in some of the various schemes hatched by the partners to solicit business. When used properly, it implied that Finley & Figg was something above your average two-bit operation. Boutique, as in small, gifted, and expert in one specialized area. Boutique, as in pretty cool and chic, right down to the French-ness of the word itself. Boutique, as in thoroughly happy to be small, selective, and prosperous.
Except for its size, it was none of these things. Finley & Figg’s scam was hustling injury cases, a daily grind that required little skill or creativity and would never be considered cool or sexy. Proﬁts were as elusive as status. The ﬁrm was small because it couldn’t afford to grow. It was selective only because no one wanted to work there, including the two men who owned it. Even its location suggested a monotonous life out in the bush leagues. With a Vietnamese massage parlor to its left and a lawn mower repair shop to its right, it was clear at a casual glance that Finley & Figg was not prospering. There was another boutique ﬁrm directly across the street—hated rivals—and more lawyers around the corner. In fact, the neighborhood was teeming with lawyers, some working alone, others in small ﬁrms, others still in versions of their own little boutiques.
F&F’s address was on Preston Avenue, a busy street ﬁlled with old bungalows now converted and used for all manner of commercial activity. There was retail (liquor, cleaners, massages) and professional (legal, dental, lawn mower repair) and culinary (enchiladas, baklava, and pizza to go). Oscar Finley had won the building in a lawsuit twenty years earlier. What the address lacked in prestige it sort of made up for in location. Two doors away was the intersection of Preston, Beech, and Thirty- eighth, a chaotic convergence of asphalt and trafﬁc that guaranteed at least one good car wreck a week, and often more. F&F’s annual overhead was covered by collisions that happened less than one hundred yards away. Other law ﬁrms, boutique and otherwise, were often prowling the area in hopes of ﬁnding an available, cheap bungalow from which their hungry lawyers could hear the actual squeal of tires and crunching of metal.
With only two attorneys/partners, it was of course mandatory that one be declared the senior and the other the junior. The senior partner was Oscar Finley, age sixty-two, a thirty-year survivor of the bare- knuckle brand of law found on the tough streets of southwest Chicago.
Excerpted from The Litigators by John Grisham. Copyright © 2011 by John Grisham. Excerpted by permission of Doubleday, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Law partners Oscar Finley and Wally Figg are always in search of their big break. So when David Zinc, a burned-out young attorney, walks away from his fast-track career, goes on a bender and lands on their doorstep, Finley & Figg is finally ready for a case that could make them rich.
A cholesterol drug has come under fire after several patients suffer heart attacks. A plaintiffs’ firm in Florida is filing a class action suit against the pharmaceutical company. All F & F has to do is find some people who have had heart attacks while taking Krayoxx, convince them to become clients, join the class action and ride along to fame and fortune.
It almost seems too good to be true....
The Litigators is John Grisham at the top of his game.
Large Print Hardcover Book : 640 pages
Publisher: Doubleday Broadway Pub ( October 25, 2011 )
Item #: 13-474705
Product Dimensions: 5.5 x 8.25 x 1.21inches
Product Weight: 26.0 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
as i got into this book and got to know the characters i really found it to be highly entertaining. the ending was predictable but thats ok. it was how i wanted it to end. would recommend it highly.
Reviewer: bob f
Good story - would make a very good movie. Not too heavy on the "legal speak" which made it an easy read. I'd love to see a sequel to this one.
Reviewer: Linda L
A young upscale attorney has a mini-breakdown and ends up working with two broken down attorneys, a dog named AC ("Ambulance Chaser") and their all-knowing secretary. Grisham places this hapless crew into the complex world of mass litigation. What's not to like? A fun read
It's the most boring of any of his books
Reviewer: P h
So far I have only read four capters, bhut I do not like the book at all. Nothing interesting yet.
Reviewer: The L