Page 53 of Behind Frenemy Lines

CG: “She’s ranked Tier 1 for Defamation Law in Law100.”

Shaw: “Good for her. I’m all for senior women. Up against a wall, for preference.”

He laughed. I didn’t think it was that funny.

Shaw, clearing his throat: “Look, my client belongs to a different generation. He’s the same age as our dads. He’d prefer to know a man’s in charge. And I’d feel better knowing it’s you, Charlie. This is highly, highly sensitive stuff. We need someone we can trust, not some expert.”

CG: “This is a specialist area of law, not one I’m familiar with. You will want an expert advising. There’s always a risk, with litigation, that you could be exacerbating any reputational issues.”

Shaw: “We’re hoping it won’t come to that. We want to you to run us through all the options. If we can knock it on the head with a stroppy letter, that would be ideal. Put your letterhead on it, remind her she’d have to pay your fees if we sue—that’s how it works, yeah?”

CG: “Loser pays, yes. There are exceptions, such as—”

Shaw: “That’s what I thought. Look, are you up for it? Myclient’s got deep pockets. He’s willing to pay top dollar for top service, but you’re going to have to do things his way.”

Sounded like every client I’d ever worked with, except for the part where he was willing to fork out.

Farah had been encouraging me to take more of a lead on client relationships, bringing in new work. Getting this case in would boost my case for partnership.

Not in a rush, but it would be good to make partner. Farah was evidence you can be a partner and still be a good lawyer, despite the extra faff. I could use the money, too.

I would have to involve the Reputation Management team, whatever Shaw said about experts. But if the client wanted me to be the point of contact, well. The client gets what they want. That’s the first rule of the job.

CG: “We’d be happy to help.”

Shaw wanted a note of advice on their options, in the first instance.

CG: “That’s fine. And who’s the client?”

Shaw paused. “Do you need his name? He’d prefer to stay behind the scenes.”

CG: “We will need to clear conflicts and complete our client due diligence processes before we can act.” Shaw stayed silent, so I said: “You can trust we’ll keep the details confidential. We routinely handle sensitive cases of this kind.”

Shaw: “Can’t you treat Blackmount as the client? We’ll cover the fees. Think of it as us approaching you for advice on a hypothetical scenario.”

Bit odd, but I’ve done similar things before—sought advice from overseas counsel on behalf of clients keen to maintain anonymity. If it was simply a matter of advising on the options available, in circumstances where any action was hypothetical, I couldn’t see that there was an immediate risk of a conflict.

CG: “If your client does decide to take action, we’d needto run conflicts checks on him and the counterparty. And his name would need to be on the court filings, if it goes to court.”

Shaw: “We’ll think about that when we get there, OK? When do you think you could get me the note? Tomorrow?”

We compromised on Friday, as early as I could manage it. It was bound to be late on Friday: I was going to have to either find someone in the Reputation Management team with the capacity to pick this up, or (more likely) bone up on defamation law myself. But you have to allow clients their illusions.

Shaw: “Great stuff. How’s your dad, by the way? Keeping his nose clean? Good, good. Pass him my regards, yeah? Dad remembers him fondly.”

Knew to take that with a pinch of salt. If Shaw’s dad was that fond of Ba, presumably they’d have met up once in a while. Ba was always complaining that his rich friends from the old days had dropped him, Shaw’s dad among them: “This Boey Kah Seng, he calls himself my friend, but does he call me anymore? I can message him a hundred times, I won’t hear back. He thinks he’s better than me.”

No good pointing out that Shaw’s dad did help Ba get out of jail back then, however unresponsive he might be these days. Boey Kah Seng bailed Ba out, when Ba’s own family wouldn’t lift a finger to help him. Shaw had made sure I knew that, back in the day.

Remembering Shaw’s dad made me feel bad that I couldn’t wait to end the call. I’d been thinking that Shaw was worse than I’d remembered. Obnoxious, in a word. Everyone at school had been like him, with a few exceptions, so I hadn’t noticed it at the time.

But it wasn’t his fault. Shaw didn’t have any friends who weren’t awful—I’d met them. Probably couldn’t help himself. And he was trying to do me a favour.

CG: “Will do. Thanks, mate. Appreciate you thinking of us.”

Shaw: “Any time, Charlie. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Couldn’t quite bring myself to lie and say I was, too.

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