Part 3 (1/2)

”Huh?” he said.

”The only thing that lousy pop-gun of yours is good for is shooting people. I don't think you came here to shoot me. Now what can you do?”

”Clown,” he growled. ”Where's Renner?”

”In bed, if he has any sense,” I decided. ”Make up your mind. Whom do you want?”

”For Pete's sake,” he said. ”Grammar at a time like this!” He looked down at his gun, decided I was right, and stuck it in a shoulder holster. Then his wrist came up in front of his mouth and I recognized him. It was the man who had lounged near the building directory when I had come in. ”Come ahead,” he said into the mike.

I turned my back on him and stomped into my office. Let them follow me.

But only one man came in, a minute or so later. ”Does it have to be so dark?” he asked politely.

”Rheostat's by your elbow,” I said. He reached for it and turned on the ceiling, closing the door that cut us off from the waiting room.

”Good evening, Counselor,” he said, taking the seat across my desk from me. He looked different without his judicial robes, not quite as much my senior as I had thought. He wasn't any taller than I was, perhaps five feet nine, and thirty pounds lighter. Between us we had about an average forehead--his went up to the top of his head--my hairline starts about where my eyebrows leave off. Robes or no robes, there was something judicial about him, as though he'd been born with a gavel in his hand.

”Good evening, Your Honor,” I said to Judge Pa.s.sarelli. ”You have a pretty active pipeline into Stigma circles, don't you?”

It didn't bother him. ”As long as judges.h.i.+ps are elective offices, Maragon,” he said. ”Judges will play politics. Fill me in on this Mary Hall thing.”

”Without violating professional ethics?” I asked.

”You'll try cases again, in front of judges,” he snapped not very judicial. ”Don't get me angry with you, Maragon.”

I countered: ”The shoe is on the other foot--I'm darned sore at you.”

He tried to find his receding hairline with his thin eyebrows. ”Don't look so amazed--do you think I haven't figured out my defending that TK Crescas was no accident? You set me up for it.”

”Set you up for a resoundingly successful defense,” he observed.

”And a resoundingly bad press!” I said. ”I have a living to make in this town--”

”Psis are still citizens,” he said. ”I'm tired of seeing them thrown to the wolves by the jackals who practice law from a phone booth. Psis deserve a decent defense. Without you, Crescas would be in prison.”

[Ill.u.s.tration]

”And without _you_,” I growled at him, ”I might still have a law practice.”

”So you're helping them find Mary Hall--to embarra.s.s me?”

”I've already found her,” I said. ”Feel embarra.s.sed?”

”Not yet,” he conceded. ”What are you planning to do?”

”We've accepted a fee to turn her over to a client,” I revealed. ”I guess that's not unethical to tell you.”

”And you'll do that?”

”After one more step.”