The Adversary by Michael Walters Page B

surprising, Nergui thought. She’d no doubt had to rehearse these arguments pretty frequently over the years. He couldn’t believe that her past hadn’t at some point returned to haunt her.
    â€œOf course not,” he agreed. “But people can be unforgiving.”
    She shrugged. “I can’t pretend it’s been easy. After—well, after it all happened, I didn’t know what to do. I was completely lost. There was a point when I thought that maybe you and I—” She trailed off, as though suddenly conscious that she might have said too much.
    Nergui was watching her intently, his dark face giving nothing away. That had been part of it, she realized. She had never known for sure what he was thinking, could never get quite as close to him as she had needed.
    â€œThere was a point when I might have thought the same,” he said, surprising her.
    She looked up at him, smiling. “It’s probably just as well then that neither of us knew what the other was thinking,” she said.
    â€œJust as well,” he agreed. “But what happened to you? I thought about trying to keep in contact afterward, but it didn’t seem appropriate.”
    No, she thought, it wouldn’t have. And very probably he was right. It wouldn’t have been appropriate. “I floundered for a while. There was nobody. Things could have turned out very badly, I think, if I hadn’t gotten a grip on myself.”
    It was difficult now to imagine her having anything less than a very firm grip on herself, Nergui thought. But he knew that hadn’t always been the case.
    â€œI managed to get myself a job. Ironically, with the legal firm who’d handled the case—”
    Nergui nodded. He recalled the lawyer who had acted for Sarangarel’s husband and could imagine that his motives for offering her a job after her husband’s death might not have been entirely altruistic. But the lawyer would also have been smart enough to recognize that, whatever else he might or might not get from the arrangement, he would at least get a very capable employee.
    â€œI started doing clerical work. I did well, got myself promoted, and eventually they offered me the chance to take a law degree with the aim of moving into a professional role in the firm.”
    â€œWhich I’ve no doubt you undertook with consummate ease,” Nergui said.
    â€œI’m not sure I’d say that,” she said. “But I did it, worked as a criminal lawyer for several years and then got the chance to apply for the judiciary. One of the benefits of a burgeoning democracy—it does create awhole new set of employment opportunities. Did you know that over half our judges are women?”
    â€œIt just confirms what I’ve always assumed about female judgment,” Nergui said. “Considerably more reliable than the male equivalent.”
    â€œAnd women tend to be less patronizing, as well,” she said.
    Nergui smiled. “But, as you say, it is ironic. That you should have ended up passing judgment over—”
    â€œPeople like my late husband? Well, I suppose you don’t need to delve too deeply into the psychology of that.”
    â€œIn my experience,” Nergui said, “it never pays to delve too deeply into the psychology of anything.”
    â€œAnd what about you, Nergui?” she said. “I followed your progress for a few years—I suppose I could claim it was a professional interest, as a criminal lawyer. I thought I might bump into you when I was trying the Muunokhoi case. That was one of yours, wasn’t it?”
    He looked up at her sharply, a glint of suspicion evident in his eyes for the first time. “You tried the Muunokhoi case?”
    â€œWell, in so far as it was tried. If it was one of yours, it wasn’t your finest hour.”
    â€œIt wasn’t one of mine,” he said. “Not directly. I’d already moved on by then. But