'I think so,' Cohen said, smiling back.
'Because I really don't want to have to put your man in jail, Geoff,' she said. 'I don't want to give Mister Bissell the satisfaction, but mostly I just don't want to put Ambrose Merrion in jail for Thanksgiving. It isn't the right thing to do. He's in the same position that my father was, and he has to see it. The game that he and Danny played has changed. It's time for him to stop playing.
'He wont like it. He'll resist. But he looks to me as though he's smart enough to see that, if you push him. They've changed the rules on him; the old code's been repealed. Let the new nasty boys carve their moral arrogance into someone else's tough old hide. I like your idea a lot. Pump him up to testify and help Bissell get himself way out on the limb of his indictment. Then at trial ram it right up his ass. Make him see he can go out with a bang.'
'And that isn't fighting?' Cohen said, standing up.
Judge Foote stood up. She extended her hand. 'Well, maybe a little,' she said, 'fighting in a different way.'
Cohen shook her hand. 'Very good,' he said, 'and I'll tell you something too. Sam Evans did not know about your frolics with Danny.
He said he'd forbidden Danny to come clean with him, give him a list of his girlfriends. He said to me: 'He understands that's information I don't want to have, and you're not getting it either, no matter what we have to do.'
For a moment the judge said nothing. Then she said: 'So there're at least four of you left; that's good to hear. Sam is a real gentleman.'
