An Imperfect Spy Read Free Page A

felt generous enough to spare a little time. “Let’s try to find a spare classroom,” she said.
    They mounted the stairs and Kate walked purposefully into the first classroom they came to; it was designed for younger children. Never inclined to perch on tiny chairs, Kate sat on a desk, put her drink and bag down beside her, and tried to look simultaneously interested and without much time to spare.
    “Just to prove to you how attentive I am,” the woman said, “I observe that what you are drinking is probably vodka, or maybe gin, and tonic. Could you spare a sip?”
    Grinning, Kate handed over her drink. The woman tasted it, smacked her lips in a comical and approving manner, grinned back, and returned the glass.
    “Your secret is safe with me,” she said. “And,” she added, looking around, “I can certainly understand the need for alcoholic resuscitation in this place.”
    “Did you go to the Theban?” Kate asked.
    “Alas, no. Fine education, no doubt, but a little too ladylike for my tastes, or so I guess.”
    Kate glanced around at the room, at the childish drawings and the admonitions on the blackboard, and found both deeply uninteresting. Probably she should have settled for the corner downstairs; still, one could always claim discomfort and depart.
    “If you didn’t go to the Theban,” Kate remarked, “may I ask what you were doing here? You have a daughter or granddaughter who attended the school?”
    “Alas, not even that excuse. I am quite without child dependents, quite fancy-free, another definition of widowhood and advancing age. I came for the express purpose of meeting you.”
    “And what purpose had you in meeting me?” Kate asked, putting down her now empty glass.
    “Shall I get you another?” the older woman asked. “I could manage, you know, no doubt about that.”
    “No, thank you. Your purpose?”
    “We are about to be colleagues, in a manner of speaking.”
    Kate hoped she did not look as astonished as she felt. Her department’s hiring a woman of that age and, well, nonconformity and frankness, hardly seemed possible.
    The woman seemed to read her mind. “Not at your exalted institution,” she said. “At the Schuyler Law School. You are teaching there next semester, are you not?”
    Kate stared. “I’ve only just decided,” she said. “Not two days ago. I haven’t even yet met the man I’m teaching with. How did you know?”
    “Because I’m head of the secretarial room at the Schuyler and I know everything. Your husband’s running a clinic. Damn good idea. Schuyler’s never had a real clinic before, only simulated ones. Not without their uses, but they don’t really help people, do they? Well, I thought I’d say hello, greetings, and good luck at putting some life into that antediluvian institution.”
    “Thank you,” Kate said faintly, no other response occurring to her.
    “I’ve learned a certain amount about you,” the woman said, stretching her legs before her as she perched comfortably on a tiny chair. “You’re less a lady than your mother, or her mother, and so on back through the generations. I’ve no doubt of that. You haven’t got children, you don’t indulge in social rituals, and you take personal and professional risks. But the risks are all within the confines of the acceptable. Just outside those confines are a lot of folks who don’t play by any rules you would recognize, let alone condone. You have a job with tenure; there’s no way they can take it away from you, however much they would like to. Sure, they can make your life unpleasant, I suppose, but financially you’re safe, and if my investigation is even approximate,you’d be safe financially if the whole university went up in smoke. Don’t get me wrong. You use your money in the best possible ways, you fight for the right things. You didn’t take your husband’s name. You try to help the innocent and those in trouble. But you have, I suspect, never dealt for any length of