Dooher picked up the check from the coffee table and dropped it in Trang's lap. 'You know why they lose, and you know why your amended complaint will lose? Because if you ask for three million dollars, you enter the realm of bullshit, and bullshit walks in this town, Victor. I've seen it happen a hundred times. Whereas there, on your lap, is fifteen thousand real dollars – you take a third, right? – five grand for your trouble, ten for Mrs Diep, and you get to spend your next five years a lot more profitably.'

Trang felt as though he would be sick. What Dooher was saying just couldn 't be true,, this case had to be a winner. It was the best idea Trang had ever had. If this one couldn't make him some money, he wasn't going to survive in the law. His mouth was sandpaper. Looking down, he saw his coffee cup and grabbed for it. Cold. He swallowed, nearly gagging, trying to think of some response. 'I can't take the check without consulting with my client.'

The buzz at the telephone gave him a moment's reprieve.

Dooher picked it up, nodded, said, 'Okay, let her come on in.' He shrugged an apology to Trang as the door opened and one of those impossible women appeared in the doorway – at least Trang's height, her skin flawless, her teeth even.

One step in, she stopped. 'Oh, I'm sorry. Janey said-. I didn't mean to interrupt.'

Dooher was coming forward. 'It's all right, Christina. Mr Trang and I were just about finished.'

He introduced them. Trang shook her cool and firm hand with his own hot and damp one.

There was, from Trang's perspective, a long and awkward moment, eye contact between the woman and Dooher. She seemed overly self-conscious that she was interrupting, that there was another person in the room. It was clear she had expected a personal moment, and was somehow disappointed.