Free Mistress of Justice by Jeffery Deaver

bleak smile and she got what she thought was her first real look at Thom Sebastian.
    “I’m sorry.” Taylor knew that this would have been a devastating blow to him. Partnership was the golden ringyoung associates strived for. They worked sixty or seventy hours a week for years for the chance to be asked to join the firm as one of the partners—the owners.
    Taylor, on the trail of a thief, after all, sensed he might be revealing a motive to lift the promissory note—revenge—and wanted him to keep talking. She said, “Must’ve been tough.”
    “After they told me, I tried to convince myself I didn’t really
want
to be partner. I mean, Christ, you can make more money at real estate or investment banking. I said, ‘Fuck it. Who needs them? It’s just a bunch of old men.…’ Well, that’s what I told myself. But, damn, I wanted it bad. I’ve worked all my professional life to get my name on the letterhead of Hubbard, White & Willis. And this is what they do to me.”
    “Did they tell you why?”
    His pale jaw, round with fat, trembled. “Bullshit. I mean, finances was what they said. ‘Effecting economies,’ if I may quote. But that wasn’t the reason.” He turned to her and said, “See, I don’t fit the Hubbard, White mold.”
    “What’s the mold?”
    “Ha, that’s the catch. They can’t tell you; they just know whether you’ve got it or not. And that prick Clayton didn’t think I had it.”
    “Wendall Clayton? What did he have to do with it?”
    “I’m not one of his chosen few. Most of the partnership slots this year got filled with his boys and girls. Look at that asshole Randy Simms.”
    She had a vague memory of a young, square-jawed blond partner.
    “Randy Simms III,” Sebastian spat out. “The ‘third,’ ” he mused bitterly. “But, hey, he’s gotta be the end of
that
family line though. I’m sure the guy doesn’t have a dick.”
    “But Clayton’s not even on the executive committee,” Taylor said.
    He laughed. “What difference does
that
make? He’s got ten times more power than Burdick or Stanley think. He’s going to ramrod the merger through.”
    “The merger?” she said. “That’s just a rumor. It’s been going around for months.”
    Sebastian looked at her and detected no irony. He snorted. “Just a rumor? You think that, then you don’t know Wendall Clayton. Two months from now, you won’t be able to recognize our firm.…” His voice dwindled. “I should say,
your
firm. Ain’t mine no more.”
    “What’re you going to do?”
    He was about to say something but grew cautious. She could sense he was selecting his words carefully. “Oh, I’ll get a new job. Probably go in-house, become chief general counsel for a client. That’s what happens to most senior associates after they cut your balls off.”
    Okay, Taylor told herself. Go for it.
    “Then why’re you working so hard?” she asked. “If I got passed over
I
sure wouldn’t be working holiday weekends.”
    A brief hesitation. “Weekends?” he asked.
    “Yeah, you were in the firm on Sunday morning, weren’t you?”
    He took a long sip of his drink then said, “Me? No. I was here all night. I left about three, when they were getting ready to close.”
    She frowned. “That’s funny. I was doing some billing for … who was it? I don’t remember. Anyway, I saw your key card number. You came in real early on Sunday.” He looked at her for a long moment. His face was completely blank but she sensed that his thoughts were grinding hard and fast. Then he nodded in understanding. “Ralph Dudley,” he said angrily.
    “Dudley? The old partner?”
    “Yeah, Grandpa. Yesterday he dropped my key off in my office. He said I left it in the library and he’d picked it up by mistake on Friday. He must’ve used it on Sunday.”
    She couldn’t tell whether to believe him or not.
    Agitated at this news, Sebastian fished in his pocket and found the little vial. He held it up. “You sure?” She