The Judge raised both eyebrows, smiling tight-lipped and cold. “Nothing, Ted. You must do and say nothing. And if you can do that, the world is yours. I believe you are a man of honor. I will take your handshake as your bond.”

-69-

-69-

Ted would have instant status, money, and work he had once loved. There was the promise of power. And he would once again be a member of the legal fraternity, with recognition and respect.

Silence was a small price to pay for all that. Too small, he thought. What was he missing? He watched as the Judge again checked the time. That was a legitimate tell. He was worried.

“Who are we waiting for?” Ted asked, though he was sure he knew.

The Judge rearranged his face into a simulacrum of ecstatic expectancy before answering. “The first of your new clients.” The facade dropped. “I can’t think what’s keeping him.”

“What happens if I don’t take your offer? Do I get to gracefully bow out? Or do the thugs bury me in the first concrete pilings that get poured?”

“I don’t understand. I’m saving you from prosecution and offering you the opportunity for a meaningful career.”

“No you’re not. This client. It’s Reisner. You want me to handle the LBC account. To keep both father and son happy and out of jail. And to do that, you’ll expect me to be their bagman. I’ll be the one carrying the envelopes full of cash, my stomach too tied in knots to even think about eating the fancy dinners all those bastards are wolfing down around me.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong.”

Ted laughed in his face. The Judge was good, but he had not expected Ted to see through the offer so completely—or so quickly. For a brief moment, Ted was able to see the frightened man beneath the mask.

“Fuck you all,” Ted said. They would let him come back to the firm, but there would be no recognition, no respect. He would be nothing more than a gofer, highly paid to leave his conscience at the door. They wanted him because they truly believed that his morality could be bought and that he would be willing to do any unspeakable—and illegal—act for a price. They—the family and the whole damn governing board—would be glad to have a gonif on board. Someone they could order to do the things they considered beneath them.