Mistress of Justice

there any reason why he’d’ve been going through your files?”
    “He’s worked for New Amsterdam in the past though not on the Hanover & Stiver deal—not that I’ve
heard
about. Anyway, he’d have no business going through anybody’s office without asking.” He laughed and looked at her admiringly. “Fingerprints … That never occurred to me.”
    She continued, explaining to him that Sebastian had lied about how late he’d stayed at the club on Saturday night and that she’d confirmed he was in fact in the firm. She told him too about Bosk and Dennis Callaghan. How they’d talked about stealing something from the firm and how they were going to spend their money.
    She asked, “You ever hear the name Callaghan in connection with the Hanover & Stiver case?”
    “No.” Reece shook his head. “But what about Sebastian’s motive? He’s risking prison just to get even with the firm?”
    “Why not? The firm was his entire life. Besides, he’s got a dark side to him. He was a process server in Brooklyn and Queens.”
    Reece nodded. “Yeah, those guys are tough.”
    Sebastian’s implicit threat echoed in her mind again.
    She said, “I think he wants revenge. But mostly I think he looks at the money Hanover’d pay him to lose the note as something the firm owes him—for not getting made partner. Think about it: He’s a product of Hubbard, White—which’s been training him for six or seven years to go for the throat, look only at the bottom line. He’s also been checking me out.”
    “You?”
    She nodded. “He’s got a little dossier on me.”
    “Why?”
    “Know your enemy?” She then continued, “Remember I mentioned Dudley? Well, are you ready for this?”
    She told him about Junie and the West Side Art and Photography Club.
    “Whoa,” Reece blurted. “That little girl’s a hooker? Dudley’s mad. They’ll put him away forever for that. Statutory rape, contributing to the delinquency.”
    “And it looks like he’s paying a thousand bucks a week cash for her. You told me he’s got money problems to start with. That’s
his
motive. And as for being in the firm on Saturday I know he was there and he told Junie that some project he was working on was going to mean a lot of money. I checked his time sheets and he didn’t bill any time Saturday or Sunday. So whatever he was doing at the firm then was personal.…”
    Taylor added, “Now, we’ve got a third-party candidate.”
    “Who?”
    “Sean Lillick.”
    “The paralegal? Hell, he’s been working for me on the case—he knows all the details about the note. But what’s his motive?”
    “Also money. I found thousands of dollars hidden in his apartment. He didn’t get it from a paralegal’s salary. And he
sure
didn’t make it doing that performance art crap of his.”
    “But he wasn’t in the firm when the note was stolen, was he?”
    “I’m not sure. He did come in Saturday morning, according to his key entry card. I assumed he left, because he only billed a few hours to a client. But he might’ve stayed all night.”
    Reece had a thought. “Something interesting … Lillick hangs around with Wendall Clayton a lot.”
    She nodded. She’d seen them together.
    “But you know what’s curious?” Reece mused. “Lillick’s assigned to the litigation department. Not corporate. Why’d he be working for Clayton?”
    “I don’t know.”
    A frown on the lawyer’s face. “Lillick’d be familiar with the St. Agnes files too. He might’ve fed Clayton some information that led him to that surprise witness from San Diego.”
    “You think
Clayton’s
behind that?” she asked.
    Reece shrugged. “St. Agnes is Donald’s client and so’s New Amsterdam Bank. All Clayton cares about is getting the merger through, and sabotaging Burdick’s clients is a pretty efficient way to do it.”
    He stood, walked into the kitchen and returned with two glasses of cognac. He handed one to Taylor, the liqueur leaving thin, syrupy waves on the glass. “Tomorrow, Wendall’s having a party at his Connecticut place. Why don’t you come along. You might be able to find something.”
    “Oh, I couldn’t go. I’m just a paralegal.”
    “It’s a
firm
function; they just have it at his house. A party for the new associates, an annual thing. You can come with me.”
    “We shouldn’t be seen together.”
    “We’ll split up once we get inside. We’ll get there late and just slip in.” He tipped his glass to her. “Good job,