Trevor hurried into the tan marble concourse past the left wing of the station, bypassing the suburban trains.
She looked at him up close, to see what she could see.
Was he the kid who had bumped into her in the hall at Paige's condo? His hair was a light brown color, expensively feathered around the ears, and he wore a thin gold hoop in his ear.
His eyes were large and clear blue, and in profile, he had a straight nose with a suspiciously perky tip.
'You may want to talk with one of our other partners, if you have further questions,' he said casually. ' Davis looked from Whittier to Field and back again. She took a guess where Trevor was headed, and ten minutes later found out she was right.
William Penn had laid out the grid two hundred years ago, and he hadn't taken cabbies and lawyers into account.
'No Eeenglish,' he said, and Mary pointed at Trevor's cab, a trifle disappointed. In the next minute his hand emerged from the back window, halting a car that was trying to cut in front of them. Trevor's cab burst forward, going west, away from the city. Trevor's cab reached Seventeenth Street and took a left, a familiar jog that Mary took all the time, negotiating the one-way streets of her hometown. It was exactly what you'd expect from a law firm that wants to shaft one of its own partners and avoid massive liability therefore. The driver, a diminutive, dark-haired man with a curly mustache, turned around in the front seat. The outline of Trevor's head was visible and he moved as if he were talking to the driver. Trevor's school was behind them, so he wasn't going back to class. Something was going on; her lead hadn't been so dumb after all. But you'll need a subpoena.' I'll have it sent right over.' 'We'll need it before you speak with him.' 'Consider it done.' Davis felt urgent. ' 'Divorce,' Whittier answered, and for a minute, Davis couldn't reply. ' Mary told the cabbie and couldn't help but feel a little thrill. She kept her eyes on the cab ahead as it idled in the congested traffic on Market Street. ' 'He's one of our more specialized lawyers at Tribe. A department unto himself.' 'What's this Videon do?Both cabs pulled up in the drop-off island at the Thirtieth Street train station, one after the other, as if unrelated.Both cab doors opened at the same time, and Mary left her cab only a split second after Trevor left his, and followed him into the station, keeping her excitement in check.