While Justice Sleeps(20)
Allowing herself a small smile, flashing a single dimple, she responded dryly, “Thank you, sir. I try to keep my incompetence to a minimum.”
“Though not your sarcasm.” Before she could stammer an apology, he continued: “Did you enjoy your time at Yale?”
“?‘Enjoy’ is a strong word, sir. I appreciated the opportunity for a stellar education.”
“And before that, you were a student at Spelman College. And at Oberlin. And Centre College. Where you had several different majors. Chemistry, French literature, history, and political science.”
“I have a variety of interests.”
“Including history.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“History. An overly broad endeavor unless you intend to learn the entire biography of man.”
Avery said, “I only studied history for a few semesters.”
“A biochemical lack of focus? Did you require special aids for your erratic attention span?”
Avery barely avoided gritting her teeth and said, “I preferred American history, but as a freshman or sophomore, it is difficult to specialize.”
“Why American history? Other nations have achieved greatness with less hubris and narcissism.”
“Agreed. But America is a contradictory and precocious country, sir. We have, in a very short period of time, managed to commit venal sins against our own people and offer the world repeat examples of exceptionalism. Americans are greedy, brilliant, ambitious, and compassionate. We like to remind everyone about our genius, and yet our leaders make fun of smart people. In less than two centuries, we took over more than half a continent, placed a man on the moon, and invented the Clapper. I enjoyed the contrasts.”
Wynn continued to watch her, with what Avery perceived as an ounce of amusement on his face. “A nation of favor and folly, one might say. Where justice is known but rarely seen. Which begs why you would also be enamored of studying the French. Not many tales of derring-do outside a Dumas novel.”
“French literature seemed romantic, if not terribly practical. That’s why I dropped it later.”
“I am a student of the French writers myself. They possess a singular ability to make the barbaric elegant. Who did you prefer during your brief acquaintance?”
“I was partial to Corneille and Voltaire.”
“Voltaire’s tendency to jump from subject to subject would appeal to you, I suppose.”
They’d covered this territory in her interviews, but she played along. “It did.”
“And traipsing from school to school?”
“Family circumstances.” Which he’d gotten a firsthand example of last night.
“A paltry phrase,” scoffed Justice Wynn. “Did ‘family circumstances’ impact your education?”
“No. At all three schools, I maintained a 4.0 GPA.”
“Your eidetic memory is responsible for most of your success in that, I’d wager.”
Avery avoided the instinct to wince. “My memory, sir?”
“Think I didn’t notice, young lady? No one naturally retains cases as you do. Then there is your tendency to gaze up when recalling details. You’re reading the pages in the air, aren’t you?”
Caught, Avery nodded again, tightly. “My memory is an asset, Your Honor. Not a crutch. I know what I’m doing, and I know what I know.”
“Got your dander up now, I see. No questioning your family or your ability to cheat on learning by using a parlor trick.”
Avery wanted to react, but she held her tongue. He’d caught her off guard, and he wanted her to react. But she’d learned from the best to hold still. To wait for it.
When she said nothing, Justice Wynn grinned, a twist of the mouth that held little humor. “Nicely done. You even know how to keep your eyes cool.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your eyes don’t give you away. When I served in district court, I could always tell. Lawyer or defendant, same reaction. Dilated pupils, gritted teeth. Do you play chess?”
Bemused by the changing subjects, she nodded. “I’m okay at it.”
“Liar.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re lying. Probably, you’re an excellent player who lies out of habit. Don’t want folks knowing how good you are.”
Avery shrugged and conceded, “I can hold my own, sir.”
“Hmm.” He studied her until she wanted to squirm. “Liars are all alike, aren’t they?”
Holding her temper with effort, Avery reminded herself of the prestige of her current position and the penalty for being fired for insubordination. She’d worked too hard to get here. The wrong words, and she’d be out on her unemployable butt. He was looking for something, goading her. She wouldn’t fail whatever test he was giving. In a low, controlled voice, she queried, “If that’s all—”
“I will dismiss you when I’m done, Ms. Keene. Not before.” He pinned her with a level look. “I asked you a question. Do you believe liars are all alike?”
“No, sir.”
“Why not?”
With a shrug, she explained, “Some lie for gain, others for protection. The lie matters.”
“You’re saying there are good lies?”