By Advice of Counsel

The Story

The legal world of Tutt & Tutt is a place of grimy police courts, stuffy offices, and the relentless, grinding machinery of New York City’s justice system. At the center of this world stands Ephraim Tutt, a veteran attorney whose stovepipe hat, stogy, and deep-seated skepticism make him a fixture in the courtroom. The narrative follows a series of disparate cases, each beginning with the cold, unyielding mechanics of the law—the filing of an indictment, the "malicious mischief" charges against a boy in a red sweater, or the complex web of health ordinances used to settle ancient, Old World feuds.

The first case involves a young boy, Tony Mathusek, who is caught in the crossfire of a neighborhood dispute and wrongfully accused of breaking a butcher’s window. While the law seems ready to discard him into the reformatory, Tutt senses the deeper, human stakes—the way the legal system is often manipulated by the powerful to crush the vulnerable. He navigates these waters not through mere technicality, but through an intuitive understanding of the city’s underbelly and its judges. Whether he is sharing a bottle of wine with an aged judge to clear a path for justice or deploying his assistant Bonnie Doon to stage an elaborate "atmosphere" in the courtroom to influence a jury, Tutt treats the law as a game of strategy where the goal is to protect the small and expose the fraudulent.

As the stories progress, the scale of these legal battles shifts from petty street squabbles to high-stakes moral dilemmas. In the case of the Syrian merchant Kasheed Hassoun, the courtroom becomes a stage for cultural friction and competing versions of reality. Tutt manages to turn the courtroom into a theater of the Levant, gathering enough "atmosphere"—from native costumes to the presence of entire immigrant communities—to ensure the jury hears the truth behind a murder charge. This is not merely about innocence; it is about the power of narrative in a court of law.

The arc of the book concludes with matters of conscience, as Tutt engages in fierce debates with his staff, including the spirited Miss Wiggin, about the limits of legal obligation. These internal conflicts come to a head when a client, Miss Althea Beekman, is forced to choose between the law and her own sense of honor, ultimately risking imprisonment for contempt. Throughout these trials, Tutt remains a constant, guiding force. He is a man who knows that a formal legal document is often a fiction designed to obscure the truth, and he uses his profound knowledge of legal jargon and procedure to dismantle these fictions. He finishes his work by helping humble figures like Danny Lowry, a horse doctor arrested for practicing without a license, proving that even the most obscure and archaic laws can be weaponized against the innocent—and neutralized by someone who knows how to spot a "reasonable doubt." The stories end as they began: with Tutt standing on the threshold of his office, ready to take on the next injustice, his reputation for being the smartest man in the courtroom secure.

The People

• Ephraim Tutt: The senior partner of the firm, a tall, weather-beaten man who views the law as both a sacred institution and a tool to be manipulated. He is driven by a desire to defend the defenseless, yet he possesses a cynical, almost mischievous streak that allows him to outmaneuver corrupt prosecutors and judges.
• Tutt: The junior partner, who acts as the practical counterpart to the senior member. While he handles the mundane probate and administrative work that Ephraim finds tedious, he is deeply devoted to his mentor and plays an essential role in keeping the firm’s clients—and finances—in order.
• Bonnie Doon: The firm’s "stage manager" and general factotum. He is a master of logistics and atmosphere, capable of producing whatever is required to win a case, whether that means securing witnesses, managing a chaotic crowd, or creating the necessary courtroom setting to sway a jury’s perception.
• Miss Wiggin: An intelligent and principled member of the firm who frequently challenges Tutt on the morality of the law. She serves as the moral compass of the office, pushing the senior partner to confront the ethical consequences of his strategies and the deeper questions of honor that transcend mere legal victory.
• Katie Lowry: A young, impoverished girl who embodies the victims of the legal system. Her plight, and her genuine faith in Tutt’s ability to save her grandfather, humanize the cold, abstract proceedings of the Tombs, serving as a catalyst for Tutt to engage his full powers in a fight for justice.

In Its Own Voice

The firm’s philosophy is captured early on, reflecting the harsh reality that legal fees often come at a terrible price for the client:

If he ultimately doubled their joys and halved their sorrows he inevitably first doubled their sorrows and halved their savings.

Tutt’s cynical take on the motives of his adversaries is punctuated by his dry, gallows humor:

"Salvatore," he remarked to the smiling son of the olive groves who tended that bar of innocence, "the worst crook in the world is the man who does evil for mere money."

Miss Wiggin’s sharp, idealistic defense of personal integrity highlights the recurring theme that the law and morality are not always the same thing:

"In matters of conscience--which, I take it, is the same thing as one's sense of honor--one has got to be one's own judge," declared Miss Wiggin firmly.

What It's Really About

These stories serve as an investigation into the gap between the "law as it is written" and "justice as it is practiced." The book argues that the law is not a static, objective truth but a malleable framework that reflects the biases, fears, and moral failings of the people who administer it. For Tutt, the law is an art form—a sophisticated, often absurd language of "dids" and "saids" that can be used to trap the ignorant or to shield the righteous.

A central theme is the inherent volatility of the jury system. The author views the jury not as a collection of impartial arbiters, but as a group of people who are swayed as much by sentiment, physical appearance, and "atmosphere" as they are by evidence. When Tutt orchestrates a scene to evoke sympathy for a defendant, he is exposing the fact that the legal process is fundamentally emotional. The book suggests that for an attorney, understanding human nature—what makes a man "shy like a frightened pony" or what triggers a juror’s nostalgia for his own wife—is infinitely more important than a mastery of the statutes.

Furthermore, the book explores the immigrant experience in early 20th-century New York. The courtrooms described are filled with "olive-skinned Levantines," "Turks," and "Syrians" who are completely alienated by a system that speaks a language they do not understand. These characters are frequently caught in the gears of the city’s ordinances, targeted by health inspectors or local busybodies, and left to the mercy of lawyers who treat their cultural traditions as either a nuisance or a prop. Tutt’s success in these cases often hinges on his ability to humanize these outsiders in the eyes of an inherently xenophobic society.

Ultimately, the book posits a question about the nature of honor. In a system where following the letter of the law can lead to moral catastrophe, is it honorable to defy the law? Through the debates between Tutt and Miss Wiggin, the reader is asked to consider whether a "law-abiding citizen" is merely a coward or if defiance is a necessary act of a higher morality. The book does not provide a comfortable answer, but it consistently suggests that the most honorable man is not necessarily the one who respects the statutes the most, but the one who has the courage to act according to his conscience when the law fails.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the atmosphere of a bygone New York—a world of brownstone houses, horse-drawn stables, and dingy, coal-smoke-filled courtrooms—will find these stories immensely satisfying. The prose is warm and precise, capturing the cadence of the era’s speech, from the street-smart slang of police officers to the formal, often convoluted language of the courtroom. It is a pleasure to watch the senior partner out-think his opponents, but the true joy lies in the dry wit and the camaraderie of a firm that operates on the fringes of respectability.

One must be prepared for the period attitudes present in the text. The book frequently reflects the casual, often dehumanizing prejudices of its time toward immigrant populations, who are often described in terms of their physical differences or "simple-minded" nature. While these descriptions provide an authentic look at the social prejudices of the 1920s, they can be jarring to a modern reader. Furthermore, the legal procedures described are specific to the time and place; the reliance on "atmosphere" over modern forensic evidence marks this as historical fiction rather than a contemporary procedural.

The pacing is episodic, with each case presenting a distinct puzzle that reflects a broader social issue. Because of this, it is an excellent book for those who want to dip in and out of a story, savoring the cleverness of the plot before moving on. What stays with you, however, is not the specific outcome of any one case, but the figure of Ephraim Tutt himself—a man who carries the weight of the city’s injustices on his shoulders, yet never loses his ability to find a way to make the law yield to his will. It is a deeply humanizing look at the legal profession, stripped of the usual glamour and replaced with the grit and humanity of the street. It is, above all, a study in the power of a keen, skeptical mind to find the truth in a room full of people trying to hide it.