When he received the message – Her Majesty Requires your Presence – Kordian closed the commentary to the Supreme Court Act he’d been reading and went out into the corridor. It wasn’t an enthralling read, but he no longer had anything else. He had battled his way through everything that could be relevant to the cassation case, and now he was learning all he could about the institution where the case would be heard. He knew, for instance, that before you could consider becoming a Supreme Court judge you had to work as an attorney for ten years: and his career path was set.
He knocked on Chyłka’s door and had to stand back as she came bursting out of her office.
‘We’re going to lunch,’ she declared.
‘It’s only . . .’
‘OK, for a snack.’
A few minutes later they sat down at the Hard Rock Cafe. Joanna ordered a ‘snack’ that would defy ten athletes who had just run a marathon. Kordian wondered whether this was a special ritual before filing a cassation appeal, or perhaps they were there deliberately, just so the loud music could get on his nerves.
‘Are we here for any particular reason? Or did you just feel peckish?’
Joanna shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t speak until she had finished her meal.
‘Order yourself a salmon, Zordon.’
‘I’m not hungry. Besides, it costs half my salary.’
‘Order it. It’ll be a consolation, because I’m supposed to fire you.’
‘What?’
His first thought was that the Bar Ethics Council had looked into his case. This is what he had feared most as the consequence of his amphetamine escapade. Lawyers were supposed to have each other’s backs, as in every other closed community, but he had to remember that he only had one foot in their world. As a trainee, he hadn’t had time to build up enough goodwill among his professional colleagues yet, and fifteen minutes of typing would be all it took for a court reporter to terminate his legal career.
He decided to order the salmon. They both also ordered a beer.
‘Old Rusty came to see me,’ she said, putting aside her knife and fork.
‘Now? Right before the cassation appeal?’
Kordian’s earlier suspicions that Żelazny might be colluding with Gorzym collapsed like a house of cards. If he was fired today, he would not be able to prevent the cassation appeal from being filed in time. And that brought with it certain problems, because Gorzym would make not only his life hell, but also Chyłka’s.
He was starting to get hot. The aggressive guitar riffs and furious percussion weren’t helping. He felt even worse when the lead singer started screeching hoarsely out of the speakers.
‘Zordon?’
‘Go on, I’m listening.’
‘You look as if I’d cut off your privates with a pair of secateurs rather than told you Żelazny wants to sack you.’
‘I just wasn’t expecting it.’
‘Then you’re more of an optimist than you should be,’ she said as their beer was served. She started nervously swiping the dew drops from her mug. ‘I have to fire you because otherwise . . .’
‘I can imagine,’ interrupted Oryński. Because he could. ‘So, what are you going to do?’
‘Sit down with you at the Hard Rock Cafe and think up a plan, which is what I’m doing now.’
She looked up, and Kordian smiled wanly. He had to admit that it was a nice gesture on her part, if a futile one. If she hadn’t managed to persuade Żelazny it was a bad idea during her conversation with him, they hardly stood a chance of finding a way to influence him now.
Despite himself, he thought about the consequences of Żelazny’s decision. Gorzym did not make idle threats.
For Kordian, Langer had stopped being important. He had told himself time and again he’d had a chance to defend himself twice in court, but had remained silent on each occasion. That had been his choice.
Ultimately there was only one choice. He took a sip of beer and decided to go for it.
He would not allow himself to get fired, and he would make sure the cassation appeal was not filed on time. He’d sort out any feelings of guilt after the fact, when the dust had settled and he had had time to think everything through.
‘Sorry, my mind is blank, Chyłka,’ he said.
‘I’m also suffering from a deficit of ingenuity at present,’ she replied. ‘I used it all up writing that cassation appeal.’
‘Rubbish,’ he bridled, raising his eyebrows. ‘You’re brimming with ideas, you just don’t know how far you’re prepared to go.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that you have ideas, but you know there’s a hefty price to pay for each of them.’
She gave him a searching look. For a moment, with Megadeth booming out of the speakers, Kordian wondered how on earth he could make sure he stayed in the firm.
He could only think of one thing. Blackmail.
It was a universal method of dealing with difficult situations, called upon since the times of the Roman Empire, if not earlier. The problem was whether Chyłka had anything on her boss. If it had been McVay they wanted to catch out, it would have been far simpler, as both camps collected dirt about the other side all the time.
‘Chyłka?’
‘I’m thinking,’ she replied, chewing her lower lip.
Kordian fixed his gaze on her lips and waited. He managed to drink half the mug of beer before he saw the familiar flash in his boss’s eyes.
‘I have an idea,’ she said.
‘I can see.’
‘But I need your help.’
‘Use me as you must. I’m all yours.’
Without further ado, she started explaining her plan. When she had finished, the salmon and beer were gone without trace. They returned to the Skylight, and Joanna locked herself in her office.