On Monday morning, at 8:00 a.m., I walked into the office of the ethics committee at Halloran & Beck and handed a woman named Doris Wexler a manila envelope containing forty-two pages.
Doris was seventy, and she had been at the firm longer than anyone, and she had the kind of calm, papery face that made you want to tell her the truth. I told her everything. The Bess connection. The offshore trust. The permits. The payments from Halcyon to Cardell Building Supply. The dinner at the club. The conversation I had overheard, the one about the loose end.
Doris listened and made notes, and when I was finished she said, "You understand what happens next."
"I do."
"We'll review it. We'll take it to the managing partner. There will be a conflict, because you're a partner now, and because you're
