Karp threw his long, narrow frame down on the chair behind his desk and motioned Schick to sit across from him. He glanced at the resume for a moment and then looked directly at Schick.

"So. How come you want to work for the D.A.?"

Schick smiled nervously, thought of an idealistic answer, looked at Karp, who was not smiling, rejected the idealistic answer, which was in any case not true, decided to blurt it out, and said, "I want to try cases. I can't afford to set up my own practice, and if I work for a big firm, I won't get to stand up in front of a jury for years. So…"

Karp's mouth twitched in what might have been the shadow of a grin. Schick noticed again that his eyes had little yellow flecks in them, and were set in his broad face at an almost angle. Not a companionable face. Schick could not help contrasting Karp with the senior lawyers with whom he had interviewed that morning. They had been smooth, confident men, strong, but with their strength buoyed by the power of a deeply established order, symbolized by polished wood and thick carpets. Karp's strength seemed to be an interior toughness, owing little to the tacky office or whatever status he happened to have at the moment.

Karp said, "OK, so you want to use the D.A.'s office for a little legal practice before you go out and get rich."

"I didn't say that!"

"Yeah, but it's not unusual. We don't get many career people here. In fact, it's a seller's market right now. A lot of the bureaus will take anybody who isn't actually drooling." He looked down again at Schick's resumed "Good grades. Law review at NYU. Very impressive. You're a friend of Tony Harris, right?"