That day, Chyłka and Kordian stayed in the office longer than anyone else. Neither knew what good going over a lost case would do, but both were delving into volume after volume of case files.
‘When can we expect legal justification of the verdict?’ asked the trainee, during a brief break.
If they were going to burn the candle at both ends, they should really have done it before the trial rather than after, but this was their way of reacting to the sheer helplessness they felt, and would never forget. ‘Any day now.’
‘And what shall we do about it?’
‘What do you have in mind?’ asked Chyłka, then realised what he was asking. ‘Ah,’ she said, nodding. ‘Nothing, Zordon. We’ll stick to the psychiatric-psychological line that has brought us this far.’
She paused, pursing her lips, and for a moment it seemed that she would contain her anger. But only for a moment.
‘Fuck it!’ she shouted, picking up the files on her desk and throwing them all in the air. Sheets of paper fluttered across the room and landed on the floor. Some landed in Kordian’s lap.
There was a moment of silence.
‘At least everything’s in its place now,’ commented the trainee.
‘You’re right there.’
‘So we’re going to ignore what Langer Senior wants?’ he asked hopefully. ‘We’re going for victory?’
‘Forget Langer Senior,’ replied Joanna. ‘And damn it, if they threaten to disbar me, we’ll get through it somehow. The chief problem is Żelazny, he’d fling us out without a second thought.’
‘We’ll go somewhere else.’
Chyłka glowered at him, then chuckled. ‘You think we’ve bonded so much we can make our exodus together? Maybe we can set up on our own? No, wait, we should tie the knot first, then you can take my name and the sign could read “Chyłka & Chyłka”. What do you think?’
‘Sounds good.’
‘Get serious, Zordon. Whatever fantasies you have in your empty head, it’ll never happen. Not even the dramatic scene where we drop everything and leave the Skylight never to come back.’
‘Pity,’ said Oryński. ‘But I have plenty more images in my head, including ones that have nothing to do with law.’
‘Castles, dungeons, chains, BDSM, love triangles? No, thanks.’
The young man drummed his fingertips on the desk.
‘I meant what I said earlier,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Stuff what Żelazny wants, and then maybe—’
‘You stuff Old Rusty and you’re done for,’ she interrupted. ‘No law firm would ever take you on, and if by some miracle you set up your own, you won’t have access to any of the courtrooms. You know how it works. Everyone seems to be in competition with everybody else and they fight tooth and nail, but when push comes to shove, they stick together. It’s the solidarity of the wolf pack. No one will allow the name of a partner to be besmirched by a mere trainee. They’ll bring you down, and me with you.’
‘That spurs me on even more.’
She shook her head. ‘Give me a break, Zordon. I haven’t got the strength for any more banter. And what are you still doing here anyway, damn it? It’s almost midnight.’
Kordian turned the clock on her desk to face him. Then he got up, went to the door and stepped out into the corridor. The only light came from a small LED motion-sensor lamp at floor level. The rest of the corridor was in total darkness, the silence broken only by the murmur of the air conditioning. Oryński stepped back into the office and returned to his seat.
‘We’re alone,’ he declared.
‘I already told you, it’ll never happen.’
‘I’m only saying.’
She looked at him pityingly. ‘You’re ten years too young for me, five kilograms too heavy and . . .’ she paused, grimacing, ‘infinitely too ugly.’
‘Anything else?’
‘You don’t eat meat. A real man has a hunter’s instinct.’
‘I can hunt down a killer bargain at Subway.’
She couldn’t help smiling.
‘And I’m not even a kilogram overweight. It’s all muscle.’
‘Sure. Try your luck with Kormak,’ she advised.
‘One day you’ll appreciate me.’
‘It’s not that I’d turn down a younger guy,’ she said. ‘If he had the right level of intellect.’
‘You’re being exceptionally nice today. Even by your standards.’
‘And you seem exceptionally eager to make a pass at me, even by your standards.’
She stood up and went to the window. With her hands on the window frame, she watched the rivers of red and white lights flowing along Emilia Plater Street and Jerusalem Avenue. The million-dollar question was, where were all those people heading at that time of night? At ten in the evening, it would be understandable, at eleven less so, but between midnight and one in the morning? One or two cars wouldn’t surprise her, but these endless columns?
‘Romantic, isn’t it?’ came a hoarse whisper.
Chyłka shook her head. ‘Sod off home, Zordon.’
‘I tried so hard, and I won’t even—’
‘Go away!’ she ordered, turning to face him.
She was smiling, so his mission had been half successful, as he’d clearly cheered his boss up. Having sadly said his goodbyes, he went out into the corridor, where the motion sensors immediately lit up like an airport runway.
In the lift, Kordian realised that by cheering Chyłka up he had also cheered himself up. Standing outside the Palace of Culture and Science he took out his phone to check the time: twenty-five past twelve. The worst possible moment to leave, as the night bus left the station at quarter past and quarter to the hour.
He didn’t want to spend money on a taxi – he wasn’t in any hurry. If there had been a case waiting for him the next day, he’d have needed to get some sleep, but as it was, he could just as well get to bed in the early hours.
He did have certain obligations, he knew. The firm assigned minor cases to people like him as part of their training. The rejects always ended up at the bottom of the food chain. The main objective was to get the case through its first hearing with the least effort. Any second hearing would be taken over by a more experienced lawyer.
‘Zordon? Too scared to go home?’
Oryński turned round to see Chyłka leaving the building and straightening her jacket.
‘Want me to hold your hand?’
‘You could give me a lift in that charabanc of yours.’
‘Mind your language!’ she retorted. ‘My BMW X5 has as much in common with a charabanc as you have with a Calvin Klein model.’
‘I’ll turn a blind eye to your snide comments, as I’m counting on that lift,’ he said, as they neared her car.
‘Pity,’ responded Joanna. ‘I like a good verbal scuffle.’
‘I’d never have guessed.’
Soon they were driving towards the Warsaw district of Żoliborz, still having digs at each other, and studiously avoiding any talk of Langer. Every subject was fair game, and the conversation never faltered. Oryński felt their conversation was getting less and less strained, which made his heart beat faster.
So somewhere in the region of Słomiński Street he suddenly asked, ‘Why don’t you come in for a beer?’
There was an awkward silence; all the ease of the previous few minutes was gone. Oryński was angry at himself. He hadn’t planned to invite her. On the other hand, he hadn’t intended anything improper. It had been going well, and they weren’t feeling tired. What harm could there be in just a beer – or two or three?
‘It’s just a casual suggestion,’ he added after a while.
‘Too casual.’
He was surprised by the seriousness of her tone.
‘Don’t make it something it’s not,’ he said, wondering if he was only making the situation worse. ‘Can’t a mentor have a drink with her mentee?’
‘Maybe, but fortunately she doesn’t have to.’
She turned to him with a smile.
‘Where to now?’ she asked, as they drove into Wilson Square.
Kordian pointed to the right exit, and soon after the BMW stopped in front of an old tenement house in Mickiewicz Street. It looked shabby, even at night, and the balconies appeared to be on the point of collapse. ‘You live here, Zordon? Where have you brought me? Do you want someone to murder me on the staircase?’
‘Don’t exaggerate. This isn’t east bank Praga.’
‘I’d rather go into a dark Praga backyard than into one of those awful places,’ she replied. ‘I must get Żelazny to raise your salary. How much do they pay you?’
‘A thousand.’
‘A week?’
‘A month.’
‘What?’
‘A thousand a month, after tax.’
‘You get a thousand net a month?’
‘Yes.’ Then clearing his throat, ‘Are you coming or not? We can have a beer and a laugh.’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘Goodbye and good luck. Hope no one stabs you on the way up. Though that salary . . . damn it. And you agreed to it?’
‘Some people I know do the same thing for seven hundred. And I work for Żelazny & McVay, so that’s something, right?’
‘Go, Zordon, go and get some sleep,’ she said, shaking her head.
The young man left the BMW, and Joanna waited, looking at the dingy buildings. She wondered whether she was right not to go for that beer. Most probably yes, because she would have had to leave the X5 there and get a taxi home. But the nagging sense of frustration persisted.
Chyłka shifted into first gear and drove off towards Wilson Square. Halfway home she regretted she hadn’t taken up his offer; but it was too late to turn back now.