Margrit held on a moment, then nodded. "That’d be good."

They greeted a few people as Rebecca led her down a maze of broad hallways, before ushering her into an office that could have been deliberately designed as the opposite of Eliseo Daisani’s. Where Daisani used rich deep colors, she had pale ones: cream carpets and birchwood accessories with overtones of gold and orange were played up by sunlight diffused through blinds over the tall windows. The soft light youthened Rebecca and created an almost literal aura of competency about her when she was backlit. It was extraordinary advertising, giving the subtle impression that a client’s money was very nearly in the hands of God, and therefore unimpeachably safe. A tiny smile curved Margrit’s mouth. No wonder Rebecca intimidated people.

Her mother offered her a seat. Margrit took it, then stood again almost immediately, earning more concern. "Margrit, what on earth is going on? Is it Russell?"

"Yes. Mom, I-" Margrit’s pulse accelerated as though she stood in front of a jury. "Mom, I need to ask you a couple of questions and I need you to tell me the truth. I know we’re not…" She sat down again, rubbing the knuckles of one hand into the other palm. "We argue over a lot of things," she said. "And I know you try to protect me and guide me even when I don’t tell you everything. Nobody tells each other everything." Nervous energy drove her to her feet yet again. "Right now I need you to."

"Well." Rebecca lifted her eyebrows slowly. "In the beginning, there were the dinosaurs…."

Margrit laughed out loud, taken completely aback. Rebecca leaned into the couch, a hint of smugness sparkling in her eyes. Margrit came over to hug her, and Rebecca returned the hug, still radiating contained amusement. "Sweetheart, I have absolutely no idea what’s wrong, but I don’t think I’ve seen you this nervous since you took the bar."

"I know. I just don’t think this is something you’ll want to talk about. Mom, did you know Russell when he worked for GBI? Thirty years ago?"

Surprise tightened the skin around Rebecca’s eyes, and for a moment Margrit could see her drawing herself into a shell that hid natural feelings. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the defense mechanism: for the first time, it struck her as similar to what she did when courtroom nerves were starting to get the better of her. It was her game face, intended to be impenetrable. "We’re more alike than I think, aren’t we?"

Fresh surprise softened Rebecca’s gaze again, a careful smile curving her lips. "I’m afraid so, sweetheart." She took a breath and held it a moment, then released it. "I did."

Margrit found herself echoing that breathing pattern, and coughed. "And you never mentioned it because…?"

Rebecca gave her a shrewd look, her lips pursed. "Wouldn’t it be more efficient to just ask what you want to know, Margrit?"

"I’m trying to be a good lawyer, Mom. Trying not to lead my witness." Daisani’s chiding from the day before had left an impression deeper than she had realized. "I’ve got a lot of puzzle pieces floating around and I’ve made a picture from them, but I want to hear your perspective to see if it’s the right one."

"And is this under the lawyer-client confidentiality clause?" Rebecca’s light teasing carried an undercurrent of discomfort. She stood as if to shake it off, taking a few quick steps to her desk and then turning to lean against it. "I never mentioned that I knew him because I didn’t particularly like him, and I didn’t want to prejudice you against your employer. Until you went to work for Legal Aid, Russell and I hadn’t spoken to each other in nearly thirty years. There was no reason to. We had nothing in common."

"Except whatever it was that made Russell rich and makes Mr. Daisani say that you’re a remarkable woman," Margrit said carefully.

Rebecca’s shoulders drew back. "He said that?"

"The first time I met him. He said you were remarkable, and if you were a little less ethical, you’d have been rich beyond the dreams of avarice." Rebecca exhaled and turned her head to the side. Margrit swallowed and went on, still choosing her words cautiously. "Tony said there was some question about Russell leaving GBI back then. Some hint of insider trading, but nobody ever proved anything."

"I thought you weren’t leading your witness, Margrit."

"Mom," Margrit said, very quietly.

Rebecca wet her lips and nodded, still looking away. "I’m sorry. You’re right. This isn’t something I want to talk about." She fell silent a moment or two, then lifted her chin and looked back at Margrit. "Russell and I were both handling some of Eliseo’s smaller businesses, under the supervision of one of the full partners. It was a test, to see how well we worked on high-stakes, high-pressure operations. Eliseo oversaw a significant amount of what we did personally, partly to add to the pressure."

"And partly…?"

"In retrospect, it seems clear it was also partly to see if we could be bought. During lunch one day he gave us papers detailing a sale going through on one of his information technology companies." Rebecca lifted a hand to touch her hair, then let it fall again with a sigh. "I don’t believe it actually occurred to me to act on the tip, but Russell went to bed still in debt from student loans and awakened a millionaire."

"What’d you do?"

"Confronted him, of course. Whether or not he acted illegally, it was certainly unethical, and he didn’t want to determine legality in a court of law. He’d either be found guilty or he’d have the question haunting him for the rest of his career. I told him to leave the company or I’d push it to court."

Margrit’s eyebrows crinkling with confusion. "Why not bust the whole operation? You had the goods on Russell and Daisani both."

Rebecca hesitated a long moment. "Because Eliseo Daisani isn’t the kind of man you imprison, and there was no way to accomplish the one without some risk of the other."

A bolt of sympathy hit Margrit powerfully enough to steal her breath. She started to stand, but was arrested by her mother’s voice: "I suppose that’s very difficult for you to understand. As a lawyer, I imagine you see prison as an egalitarian accomplishment. Guilt deserves punishment."

"You’d be surprised. Mom, why do you-" She cleared her throat, trying to rid herself of an ache there. "Why do you say that? That he’s not the kind of man you send to jail?"

Rebecca focused on Margrit as if she’d forgotten she’d been speaking aloud. "It’s hard to send someone with that much money to prison, sweetheart. You know that."

Margrit opened her mouth and closed it again, an unexpected wave of defeat crashing over her. "Yeah." She sank back into the couch, deliberately keeping herself from dropping her face in her hands. A moment of connection had passed, and she had no idea how to bring it back without potentially betraying Daisani’s secrets. For a moment she wished vividly that she had a gargoyle’s ability to join with another being on a profound mental level, leaving no secrets unshared. The burden of knowing about the Old Races would seem far less heavy if she knew even one ordinary person who could understand. "Yeah, I do know. So do you think he stayed in Daisani’s pocket after that?"

Rebecca hesitated again. "It’s hard to do business in this city without some kind of interaction with Eliseo or his companies. I avoid working with him directly, but we manage a dozen of his holdings out of these offices alone." She tapped a finger against her desktop, clearly uncomfortable. It was another moment before she spoke, resolve hardening her tone. "I didn’t trust Russell Lomax, Margrit. I suppose I don’t forgive easily, but he breached my trust and the company’s trust by playing on inside information. It’s because I mistrusted him that I say I wouldn’t assume his law career went untouched by Eliseo Daisani, but I imagine there’s only one person who could really answer that question for you, now that Russell is dead."