Six other Bryants were in court, all of them hungry for the old man's millions. They had retained a lawyer named Martinson who briefly and concisely explained that the old man had not been in sound mind at the time of making the will, and that it was therefore invalid.
It was a flimsy stand, and Harker said so. He spoke for no more than ten minutes. Judge Auerbach smiled politely, said he had studied the briefs from both sides with care, and ruled in favor of upholding the will.
Just as simple as that. Helen Bryant tossed Harker a glance of molten hatred and flounced out, followed by her younger brothers and sisters. Auerbach leaned forward from his bench and said to Harker, "I'm glad that's over with. One more delaying injunction—"
"There wouldn't have been one, Tom. They just were waiting for old Bryant to kick off. Jonathan didn't want to give him the satisfaction of winning while he was alive."
Auerbach shrugged. "They really didn't have a claim to the money. Were they just trying to make trouble?"
Harker nodded. "Trouble's their specialty, Tom."
"Well, you're through with having trouble with the Bryants now, I guess."
Harker shook his head slowly. "No," he said. "Not by a long shot."
He rode uptown from the courthouse and stopped off at his law office for the first time in a week. The girls in the outer office stared at him strangely, as if he had undergone some frightening apotheosis and was no longer just the firm's newest partner.