gma."

"You don't honestly mean you're going to represent that Psi!"

"I just _told_ you she hasn't got the Stigma!"

"You are a rotten lair," Renner said, getting dangerously red in the
face. "What kind of games are you playing with Passarelli? What has
_he_ got to do with the reputation of our firm? Don't try to lie," he
said sharply. "I know he's here. He's been tailed all night."

That was enough for Passarelli. He came out of the bedroom and walked
up to Renner. "Forgive me for saying this, Renner," he said. "But I
just hope you have a case in my court. I'll find some way to pin one
of your slippery tax frauds to you!"

Renner grew pale. He's conditioned to toady to judges. He didn't have
the guts to answer Passarelli, and took it out on me, instead. "Our
partnership is dissolved, as of right now," he seethed. He dragged
some money out of his pocket and threw it on the rug. "There's your
share of the rent. I'm throwing your stuff out in the hall in the
morning. The auditors will be there at nine o'clock for an accounting.
You won't need that address any longer--only reputable people come to
our building." He stormed out.

Passarelli and I faced each other in silence. "Jerk!" I raged at him
at last. "You couldn't check to see if you were being followed!"

"I regret that," he said. "But you invited me."

"Don't remind me," I snarled. "What now?"

"I don't know about you," Passarelli said. "But I'm going to start
looking out for myself. You're too tricky, Maragon."

"And I suppose you think it's time I ditched Mary Hall, eh?"

"What for?" he said mildly. "You're just one more Criminal Court
shyster now--Renner gave you the heave-ho. You might as well defend
her, even if I can't work with you."

I could feel my belly tighten with rage. "I thought you'd welcome a
reputable attorney who would represent Psis," I reminded him.

"Yes, I suppose I would. Very much."

"All of a sudden I'm not reputable?"

"Reputable?" he sneered. "You've been on every side of this thing.
Would you like to explain why you told Renner one thing and me
another?"

"Same reason you've been going through some contortions
yourself--trying to save my profession and occupation."

"Too tricky for me," Passarelli said.

I measured him with my eyes. "That's not the reason you're walking out
of here. What's bugging you?"

"Reading my mind?" he said coldly. It wasn't the first time I'd been
accused of it. "But you're right. You lied