"Good for him."

"True, but his disappearance hasn't been good for the court. Or for his wife and daughter, either, to tell you the truth. His wife's hired her own lawyer to file a presumption-of-death claim, which, between you and me, has very little chance of getting recognized, in spite of the fact that it would be convenient for the court."

"Why's that?"

"Because when sole practitioners die and go to heaven, the bar inherits the caseload and has to dispose of it."

"What if they don't go to heaven?"

"Most lawyers argue themselves in, don't you think? I know you would."

"Thanks, I think. Your Honor."

"Anyway, I know it's just housecleaning, but Bowen had a ton of work outstanding, and that work needs to get done. And while we're not going to issue any presumption of death until he's been gone a lot longer, last month Marian Braun"-another of the city's superior court judges-"ruled that his disappearance rendered him legally incompetent, and just yesterday the state bar suspended his ticket at the court's request."

"So now they've got to farm out his cases. If he hadn't returned my calls for six months and I was his client, I would have fired him by now."

"I'm sure some of his clients may have done just that, but not all by a long shot." Thomasino sighed. "Charlie was a friend of mine. His wife's going to need whatever he still has coming from his cases. I'd like to be sure that the bar puts those cases in the hands of somebody who I know will do the right thing by her. Anyway, bottom line is that I ran into Wes Farrell today at lunch." This was one of Hardy's partners. "He said things at your place were a little slow. The good news is that you can probably count on some percentage of Mr. Bowen's clients hooking up with your firm. Not that any of 'em will make you rich."

Reading between the lines, Hardy knew what the judge was saying-that this was grunt administrative work.