Mistress of Justice

Oh, no, Taylor thought. Just what they were afraid of had happened – word had gotten out that Clayton had stolen the note.

But the tragedy was of a somewhat different order.

The woman gasped, "Oh, Mr. Burdick it's terrible. They just found Wendall Clayton in the garage downstairs. In his car. He's…"

"What, Carol?"

"He shot himself. He's dead."

TWO. Men of Most Renowned Virtue

"You will observe the Rules of Battle, of course?" the White Knight remarked, putting on his helmet…

"I always do," said the Red Knight, and they began banging away at each other with such fury that Alice got behind a tree to be out of the way of the blows.

– Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Only a few hours had elapsed since Clayton's suicide. But it seemed to Taylor Lockwood that days had passed – given all the conjuring that Donald Burdick had done in the wake of the tragedy.

First, he'd appeared at the merger vote meeting and delivered the news to the partners. Then, leaving the stu

The senior partner had handled an endless stream of phone calls and meetings with his cronies. So far he'd talked to the mayors and the governor's offices, the medical examiner's office, the police, the Justice Department, the press.

Taylor was startled to see Burdick's wife make an appearance, walking into her husband's office una

He sat down, leaned back in the chair and then asked Reece and Taylor, "Do you have anything else that has to do with Wendall or the theft? Anything at all?"

Reece shook his head and looked at Taylor, who said numbly, "I didn't think this would happen."

Burdick looked at her blankly for a moment then repeated, "Anything else?"

"No," she said.

He nodded and took an envelope out of his pocket. "There was that suicide note in the car, the one the police found. Talking about pressures at work, being despondent." Burdick looked at both Reece and Taylor. He added, "But he wrote another one. It was on his desk, addressed to me."

He handed a sheet of paper to Reece, who read it and then passed it on to Taylor.

Donald, forgive me. I'm sending this to you privately to keep my theft of the note out of the news. It will be better for everyone.

I want you to know that I truly believed the merger would save the firm. But I lost sight of how far I should go. All I'll offer is this from Milton: "Men of most renowned virtue have sometimes by transgressing most truly kept the law."

Burdick took the letter back and locked it in his desk. "I'm going to try to keep this note quiet." He nodded at the drawer. "I'll talk to the police commissioner and I don't think he'll have a problem with it. This is Hubbard, White's dirty laundry and no one else's. Publicity would be bad for everyone. Bad for the firm. Bad for Clayton's widow too."

"Widow?" Taylor asked suddenly.

Burdick replied, "Yes, Wendall was married. Didn't you know?"

"No," she said. "She wasn't in Co

"Well, I guess he wouldn't now, would he? Given his extracurricular activities."

His widow.

The words stung. Before his death, Clayton the man had been hidden beneath Clayton the ruthless aristocrat. That he had a wife – and maybe children or living parents, siblings – was a shock.

"The newspapers'll get a watered-down story," Burdick continued. "I've called the public relations company. Bill Stanley's with them now. They're preparing a statement. If anybody asks we'll refer questions to them." He lowered his head and looked into Recce's eyes, then Taylor 's. She had the same sense as when she met Reece's gaze, or Clayton's. Or her father's. They drew you in, made you forget who you were, forget your own thoughts. In Burdick's eyes she saw will and confidence, strong as bronze. Her mind went blank. He asked, "Will you back me on this? If I thought there was anything to be gained by a full disclosure I wouldn't hesitate to reveal everything. But I can't see any upside to it."

Men of most renowned virtue

Reece said, "I won't perjure myself, Donald. But I won't volunteer anything."

"Fair enough." The partner looked at Taylor.

She nodded. "Sure I agree."

The hairs on the back of her neck stirred.

Widow

Taylor looked into the conference room, inside which Vera Burdick, her gray hair piled on her head in a stately bun, was on the telephone. She glanced back and caught Taylor 's gaze. The woman half-lose and swung the door closed.

Burdick's phone rang and he took the call. He mouthed something about its being from someone at City Hall but Taylor was preoccupied. She was seeing in her mind's eye the real suicide note, tucked away in Burdick's desk. She vaguely heard Burdick speaking to the caller in a low, reassuring tone. She watched his long, jowly face, carefully shaved, his sparse gray hair brushed into precise alignment.

And Taylor Lockwood thought. What the hell had she been doing all along? What did she think would happen when she fingered the thief? Had she ever considered the consequences?

Never once.

Renowned virtue

Burdick hung up the receiver and nodded with satisfaction. "I think we'll get away with it."

Taylor tried to figure out what he meant.

"The Medical Examiner's office is going to rale the death suicide. The AG agrees. And we can keep our other suicide note private."

Reece blurted an astonished laugh. "The ME ruled already?"

Burdick nodded then looked at Taylor and Reece with a vaguely ominous gaze, which she interpreted as Don't be too curious about this.

The partner looked at his watch. He held out his hand to Reece, then to Taylor, who first wanted to wipe her palm. It was damp as a washcloth, Burdick's was completely dry.

"You two get some rest. You've been through a hellish week. If you want any personal time I'll arrange it. Won't come out of your vacation or sick leave. Are you busy now?"

Reece walked toward the door. "I've got the Hanover settlement closing in Boston next week. That's the only thing on the front burner."

"You, Ms. Lockwood?"

"No, nothing," she replied, still numb.

"Then take some time off. In fact, I'd urge you to. Might be best."

Taylor nodded and began to speak but hesitated. She was waiting for some significant thought to arrive, some phrase that neatly summarized what had just happened.

Nothing occurred, her mind had jammed.

Get away with it?

"Oh, Mitchell," Burdick said, smiling, as if the suicide no longer occupied even a portion of his thoughts.

Reece turned.

"Congratulations on the Hanover settlement," the partner said. "I myself would have settled for seventy cents on the dollar. That's why you're a litigator and I'm not."

He rose and walked to the small conference room, where his wife awaited him. Burdick didn't open the door right away, though. He waited, Taylor noticed, until she and Reece had left the office.

They walked in silence to the paralegal pen.

Everyone in the corridors seemed to be staring at her. As if they knew the part she'd played in the partner's death.