Mistress of Justice

I took them right to Mitchell at the courthouse. I didn’t even call—because I thought the phones might be bugged. Nobody else knows what I was doing.”
    Stanley nodded and continued, “The problem’s going to be talking him into leaving. He knows we’re afraid of publicity so we’re not going to go to the police or going to sue him. Fucking clever when you think about it. He arranges to misplace a note, nearly loses our client and when we catch him red-handed he’s practically got immunity from the liability.”
    Burdick was shaking his head. “We’ll find a way to oust him. That man has to …” His voice faded as there was an urgent knock on the door.
    “Come in.”
    The door opened fast and one of Burdick’s secretaries stood there. Her face was white and her eyes were red from crying.
    “What is it, Carol?”
    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 stunned men and women to make what they would of the man’s death, he’d returned immediately to his office, where Reece and Taylor had been ordered to remain.
    The senior partner had handled an endless stream of phone calls and meetings with his cronies. So far he’d talked to the mayor’s 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 unannounced, without the least acknowledgment of Reece or Taylor. The woman apparently knew all about the suicide and she and her husband retired to the small conference room off his office and closed the door. Five minutes later Burdick returned alone.
    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 Connecticut the other day.I’ve never seen her at any of the firm functions. He never wore a ring.”
    “Well, I guess he wouldn’t now, would he? Given his extracurricular