“No, but I did put you in the situation to begin with. And I should have been in the courtroom with you.” The first part was the truth; the second part was not. She had been glad not to stand there, waiting for Aristide to succeed or fail.

“I am a grown woman with a license to practice law. I agreed to take this case. And now I will tackle the consequences.”

“Will you be all right? I mean, with the federal investigators, and the police, and whoever else?”

“Will you? It’s a game of wait and see now, I think. They look into it, and then they come around.”

“My favorite thing.” Lillian put her face into her free hand. “Waiting on other people.”

“Yes,” said Rinko. “You are more the type to implement a plan, not to be caught up in someone else’s.”

A sharp edge on the sentence told Lillian it was an unasked question, something Rinko didn’t want to say over the telephone. That was wise; Lillian certainly didn’t trust her own line. And if she didn’t want to say it, Lillian knew what it was and was equally unable to answer.

“Less and less these days,” she said, instead of pleading innocence. “Lately I seem to find myself caught in the cross fire of other people’s machinations more than I would like.”

“Really?” Rinko didn’t sound like she believed it.

“Well, I suppose I agreed to go on Laurie Kostos’s After Dinner Hour of my own volition.”

“What?” From the surprise in Rinko’s voice, Lillian’s tactic had worked—a distraction to move them away from a dangerous conversation toward one that might yield results.

“He asked me on to talk about recent events and I said yes. And then he … he asked if I might extend an invitation to you.”

A long pause took years from whatever life she had left. She could almost hear the click of abacus beads as Rinko made calculations on the other end of the line. Finally, Rinko said, “You’re really going to do this?”

“I have … significant stock invested in the interview.” Lillian picked her way around the facts like they were bear traps. “Doing it of my own volition doesn’t mean I’m doing it out of altruism.”

“You didn’t promise me to him, did you?”

“I said I’d do my best.”

“You still owe me for those consultation fees.”

Heat spread across Lillian’s cheeks. “I know. I’m sorry. But this is … it’s about…” She hated what she was about to say, and said it anyway. “Justice. Of a sort. The future of Gedda, if you want to be dramatic.”

“Playing to my convictions?”

“No. Just telling the truth.”

“I know what kind of truths you tell, Lillian. Exactly the same kind I do.”

“The kind that require a convincing argument?”