“Excuse me, I have to take this,” Ivins said as he answered the call. He listened, then said, “Phoebe, dial in,” and she got on her phone, too.

What followed was a half-hour conference call about his upcoming hearing. I listened closely and pieced it together. Late last year he’d filed a shareholders’ action against a company he called NSP. He’d recently filed a motion to certify the class along with an application that he be appointed as class counsel. But another law firm had filed a similar lawsuit and was now presenting a competing application to be appointed counsel on behalf of the same class. The judge had to decide which firm would be permitted to represent the shareholders. At stake was the potential award of millions of dollars in attorneys’ fees. The competing lawyer was on the phone, proposing that they settle the dispute by agreeing to partner as co-counsel in the matter. Phoebe listened and took notes on her tablet, while Ivins spoke pleasantly, even charmingly, and committed to nothing.

“Sorry about that,” he said when the call finally ended. We’d reached lower Manhattan by then, and Phoebe’s notes were spooling out of a mobile printer on her lap. “That was my adversary in today’s hearing. Ned Bartman.”

“A Johnny-come-lately angling for a share of your spoils.”

He laughed. “No, he was only doing the requisite dance. He actually wants the whole case to himself. Despite the fact that we did all the investigatory work, filed the first complaint, and have the case positioned for an excellent settlement.”

“That’s how you’ll argue it today?”

He nodded.

“Who’s representing Northstar? If I may ask.”

He smiled, pleased but not surprised that I’d correctly deduced the name of the defendant by its stock symbol. “The Harrington firm.”

“Ahh. The same firm that’s representing Ingram Barrett in your Palmer case.”

“So you know them.”

“I knew them before, too.”

I looked out the window as the roadside trees blurred past. Bright green buds were bursting free of the bare brown branches. It was strange the way my brain worked. I needed to be thinking about my own case. I needed to evade Barrett and his henchmen, and I needed to steel myself against whatever Ivins was up to. Instead my mind was humming with litigation strategy. I could almost feel the zap of the electricity snapping across the synapses in my brain. It felt good.

“What?” Ivins said, watching me.

I shrugged. “My guess? Harrington’s done a reverse auction. And Ned Bartman was the low bidder.”

Phoebe twisted around in her seat. “What’s this?”

I explained it to her. “Obviously Northstar wants to see counsel appointed who’s willing to settle for the cheapest amount. Harrington’s MO is to negotiate privately with each of the competing plaintiffs’ lawyers and cut a deal with the low bidder. Then they leak some morsel of information to give them the edge in the counsel fight. Thus making Ned Bartman look like he’s the one who’s done the real investigation. So he deserves the appointment.”