The only good Lawyer

were going to be partners together.”
    “But Ms. Ling was barely out of law school.”
    “Yes, but Woodrow said she was contributing half the capital to get things started.”
    “Why would he tell you that?”
    A disdainful expression. “Any commercial lessor worth its salt would want a credit rating on a new tenant. The typical commercial lease is for five years, with an option to renew, and the lessor has to be sure the tenant is a good risk.”
    I turned it over. “So Ms. Ling was putting up good-faith money from her end.”
    “Yes.”
    Meaning from Nguyen Trinh’s end, probably. Another way he’d have gotten to control Woodrow Gant, to “watch him from the kitchen” at a higher level.
    The penny also dropped on the photocopied phone message I’d received. “So that’s why you called both Mr. Gant and Ms. Ling at the firm.”
    “Yes.” Baker looked toward the water, a couple of gulls wheeling and diving for something on the surface. “But when Woodrow got killed, I was in Europe , so when I returned last week and called the firm, naturally I asked for him.” She gnawed on her lower lip. “God, it was such a shock, but Deborah assured me she was still interested.”
    “Interested?”
    “In setting up her own practice.” Baker looked back to me. “In fact, that’s why we were going to have lunch when...”
    She shook her head.
    I said, “Do you mean last Friday?”
    “Yes.” Baker’s eyes returned to the harbor. “When it got later and later without any word from Deborah, I called the law firm twice and left blind messages for her just to get back to me.”
    I’d heard one of them at Epstein & Neely’s reception desk.
    Now Baker closed her eyes again. “Then that night, on the news...”
    After a moment, I said, “Even without Mr. Gant as a partner, Ms. Ling was still thinking about leaving the firm?”
    “Not just ‘thinking’ about it, either. She’d made up her mind.” Baker came back to me. “I guess Deborah had major doubts.”
    “About what?”
    Baker shrugged. “About the viability of Epstein & Neely for the future.”
    “Why?”
    “Well, with Woodrow gone—dead, I mean—and the other partner being made a judge, there—”
    “A judge?”
    “Yes. I guess it wasn’t public information yet, because Deborah insisted I had to keep that in strictest confidence.”
    I remembered Nancy telling me about the new slots being approved by the legislature. “Do you know which partner Ms. Ling was talking about?”
    Another shrug. “She never said.”
    I remembered seeing somebody at the firm I didn’t expect to be there. Then I thanked Kim Baker for her time.
    After she left me, I spent a good hour on that bench, but I didn’t pay much attention to the seagulls any more. Or anything else, for that matter. I was pretty much lost in thought.
    Then I got up to go see the person at Epstein & Neely who I figured pushed that photocopied message through the mail slot in my office door.

Chapter 22

    I was about to press the button for the small elevator when I heard the car approaching the ground floor and saw the diamond window line up with the lobby door. Through the glass, Uta Radachowski was hiking the strap to a backpack higher on her shoulder. I stepped to the side before she looked up, letting her open the door.
    When Radachowski came out, I said, “Knocking off early?”
    She jumped, then turned around. “You scared me.”
    The eyes behind her distorting lenses confirmed the emotion. “Why?” I said. “Trinh and Huong are both dead.”
    A different look now. “I caught it on the news. And can see it on your face.”
    “Bloodied, but unbowed.”
    Another hike at the shoulder strap. “Then what do you want here?”
    “Maybe to know where you’re heading.”
    “Not that it’s any of your business, Mr. Cuddy, but I have a charity event I’m already late for. Now, is that all?”
    “Except for an invitation to your swearing-in.” Radachowski lips narrowed. “My what?”
    “The ceremony when you put your hand on the Bible and promise to be a good judge.”
    “Mr. Cuddy, I don’t know—”
    “I do know, counselor, and bluffing’s not going to work anymore.”
    Her eyes swam behind the distorting lenses. “Who?”
    “Who told me, you mean?”
    The eyes were steady now. And angry. “That’s what I mean.”
    I couldn’t see any reason not to protect Kim Baker. “Nobody. Not directly anyway.”
    “That’s not possible.”
    “Sure it is. All those