And then he realized that in making that promise, the Judge had admitted his culpability. He might not have aided and abetted, but he had been aware of the players involved and what deeds they committed. Nothing could ever be proved, of course. But the promise was as real as the threat had been.

Ted had been outmaneuvered again.

“What happens now?” Ted asked.

“Lunch. Just as soon as our guest arrives. You must be hungry. You’ve had a hell of a night. I don’t know what’s keeping him. Oliver, could you bring Mr. Molloy a little something to keep him from fading away? Something with protein, I think.”

Ted wasn’t hungry. He wanted confirmation for all he had deduced. He would get it; he just had to keep the Judge talking. “What is the package? I’m not coming back to the firm to sit on my ass. What do I do? What’s my future? Where do you see me in five years? In ten? Come on, this is your pitch. Make me want it.”

The Judge looked down and repositioned his knife and fork, aligning them in parallel equidistant from the plate on either side. He cleared his throat and began:

“The wheel has come around, as it always does, and commercial real estate is again a major source of revenue for the firm. I can’t make you head of the department, but I can see you coming aboard as a junior partner—”

“Senior,” Ted interrupted.

The Judge paused long enough that Ted believed him when he agreed. “Senior partner. You will have a substantial client list. Ten years from now? You would be running the department with a seat on the governing committee.”

Oliver set a small plate in front of Ted containing a tennis ball-sized burrata on a bed of fresh basil leaves. Ted ignored it. “What else? There’re other people involved. What happens to Barbara Miller? I am assuming she’s alive. You might need her.”

The Judge allowed a slight nod of admission.

“So?” Ted continued. “Her money? Her properties?”

“I am touched. You met this person once and feel compelled to advocate for her. She is a tough old woman who, sadly, is sinking into dementia. She now resides in one of the best eldercare facilities in the country. No. In the world. She has no heirs, no pet charities, not even a close friend who would benefit. What would you want for her that she does not have?”

“I want to see her. I want to know she’s happy there.”

“I will arrange for you to visit her. But happiness comes from within. I cannot guarantee it, nor should you expect it. But she is content. And safe.”

“The surplus money? There’s a million and change sitting there.”

“You won’t need it. In five years you’ll be worth ten times that.”