Aifric let out a long breath. She looked down at the phone still clutched in her hand and felt like throwing it across the corridor.

“Does Judge Hartigan know?” she asked.

“I’d be surprised if he didn’t.”

“Right.” It was embarrassing, hearing this from him. It put her at a disadvantage, not knowing the lay of the land with her own lawyer.

“Thank you,” she said.

He nodded, hesitated, then lowered his voice. “Hartigan can’t stand Johnathon Keyes. They had a run-in years ago, before Hartigan took the bench. I’m not sure I ever got the full story, but Keyes set him up for something or other, and Hartigan has been waiting in the long grass for him ever since.”

Aifric’s stomach sank. She stared up at Aidan Murphy from her seated position, the file balanced on her knees, phone still in hand.

“I told Hartigan that Keyes was in another case. That that’s why he wasn’t in court.”

Aidan grimaced in quick sympathy. Lying to a judge was a serious ethical breach. If Hartigan decided that she had knowingly misled him, he could end her career. “Is that what you thought at the time?”

“Yes. Well, his secretary did tell me he was in court. She didn’t give me any specifics.”

“You’ll be all right. You told the truth as you saw it.”

Aifric nodded. “Why are you telling me this? Helping me, I mean.”

“We’ve all been where you are, or somewhere similar. We all have to start somewhere.” He straightened up. “Good luck. Watch your back.” He gave her a final nod and disappeared down the corridor in the direction of the law library.

Aifric gazed after him, wishing she could follow. Instead, she tucked her phone and the file away in her court bag, and let herself quietly back into the courtroom. Hartigan was there, hearing a late application. The trial attorneys and lawyers acting in that case were seated at counsel’s benches. Otherwise, the courtroom was empty. Hartigan’s eyes followed her as she crossed the room and took a seat at one of the empty benches. In far too short a time, the application had been made and ruled upon, the papers had been handed back to the registrar, and the lawyers had packed up and left. Hartigan turned to his registrar, a gray-haired man who ran his schedule and kept his papers in order.

“I don’t need you for this, Joe,” he said. The registrar nodded slowly, picked up his pile of papers, and made his way from the room without a single glance in Aifric’s direction.

“Alone again, I see, Ms. Ryan.” Hartigan’s tone was kinder than she had expected.

“Yes, Judge.”

“Well?”

“I . . . uh . . . I can confirm that the book of evidence has been served after all. My apologies. Earlier today, I was under the mistaken impression that the papers hadn’t reached Mr. Keyes . . .”

“Who is not here, I cannot help but note.”