If Dan had to sum up what set Will apart, he would have said Will made you feel as though he knew you intimately after only a few minutes of chatting. Having compassion at his fingertips and an ability to share his convictions were Will’s trademarks. He knew the stats on poverty, child abuse, sexual assault — social inequities of every variety — and he could quote them at will. Dan tried looking them up once and found them current and accurate. For a while, Dan had thought he might be falling in love with Will, but Will had taken that in stride as well.
“I don’t have time for an affair, Daniel,” Will told him flat out. “There are a lot of things I want to achieve. My personal life is secondary to those goals.”
A man with his priorities in order.
Serious in outlook and committed in his actions, Will was a new-world cowboy with the unruffled calm of a priest. Although he claimed to be bisexual, Dan knew no one who had actually dated him. He was a mystery, aloof but kind. An icy exterior with a burning flame at its centre. Getting to know him was a challenge. Gentle reserve was his default mode, and helping the less fortunate was his only passion. Dan had expected him to go into medicine, but it was no surprise either that he’d ended up studying law and getting involved in politics, trying to make a difference.
These were Dan’s memories as he left the assembly. He hadn’t long to wait for the reality. Once outside, he turned and there was Will. The years had been more than good to him. He looked lean and extremely fit, with a touch of grey around the temples.
His smile caught Dan off guard. Not so serious now, it seemed. “Daniel, it’s great to see you. Good of you to make yourself at home in our hallowed halls.”
Will indicated the way. They fell into step, heading away from the assembly.
“I took the tour to see what it’s all about before we met up,” Dan said.
“And what did you learn?”
“That politics and high school are not far apart when it comes to the participants. The only difference is their relative ages.”
Will laughed. “You’re not wrong. Sometimes I think this place is a distillery for deviant behaviour.” They reached the end of the corridor. Will stretched an arm in the direction of the next wing. “I’m just around the corner.”
He opened a door and led Dan into a hushed interior that suggested arcane matters and state secrets were regularly discussed here. The furniture was old, intricate, and uniformly made of wood. An auctioneer might have a field day trying to scry the provenance of the pieces before laying them out on the auction block. Dan ran a hand over the grain of a writer’s desk with a fold-up top that was stately and demure as someone’s kindly grandmother. Shelves were crammed with volumes of legislative history and legal tracts, the makings of civilization great and small. From atop an imposing shelf, busts of Pierre Elliot Trudeau and Plato cast discerning gazes over the room. The father of modern Canada who had tossed the state out of the nation’s bedrooms, and the man who had laid the foundations of western civilization after declaring love a mental illness were contentedly seated together. They would have good conversations, Dan thought.
“You’ve done well for yourself.”
Will nodded. “If this is the sort of place you want to end up in, then yes.”
“You didn’t?”
“It’s not what I envisioned back when I was a young student leftist trying to reform the world. I had more radical things in mind then, though they stopped short of the Baader-Meinhof Gang.” He winked. “I’m sure you’d agree this is what we called ‘selling out’ back in our younger, more idealistic days.”
“Then you’ve survived the transition nicely. Maybe we should have called it ‘buying in’ instead.”
“A diplomatic answer,” Will replied. “I’m surprised myself at how long I’ve stayed. Some days the level of duplicity is mind-boggling.”
“You’re the only lawyer I ever trusted, because you could still be shocked by bad behaviour. That and the fact you once refused a client you knew was guilty.”
“Yes, well there’s crime and then there’s crime. Stealing pensions from old ladies and labourers deserves to be punished. I couldn’t use my talents to free someone who clearly admitted his guilt but wanted a loophole to squeeze through.”
“Is he still in jail?”
“Last I heard,” Will said. “Probably why I’m still alive. If he’d broken a law I personally disapproved of then I’d have thrown myself body and soul into his defence. But nothing like that here, of course. I just advise and adjudicate a lot of musty, fusty old laws someone wants upheld or, with luck, dispensed with when their time has come. There’s a lot of dead wood. Ministers wanting things on the books that will allow them to repeal gay marriage, for instance. It won’t happen at this level. It’s up to the feds, though it’s not proving a popular fight. Times have changed, but I wouldn’t put it past the prime minister to try to sneak it back into parliament. The last time he did, it got rumbled pretty quickly, but we have to be vigilant. That’s the price of freedom. Isn’t that what they say?”
“Truer words,” Dan said with a nod.
Will leaned forward over his desk. “It’s good to see you again, Dan. Life treating you well?”
“Very well, in fact. My son’s in university in B.C. He’s about to graduate.”
“Terrific! Kedrick, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Good memory. On top of that, I’m about to get married. His name’s Nick. He’s a police officer.”
“Well, congratulations, then.” Will gave him an appraising look. “I assume he’s stellar material like you.”
“Thanks. He’s a really decent guy, the sort I thought I would never meet. So far he hasn’t been scared off by me. How about you?”
“Six years of marriage. A wife and two kids.” Will looked at Dan. “I know what you’re thinking: I went the safe route.”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all. I was remembering how I envied you for having the choice. I also remember thinking that dating you would mean there’d be twice the competition.”
Will laughed. “True enough.”
Dan’s eyes roamed the desktop. “Any photos?”
“No. I keep my private life private. Just the nature of the business here.”
“Understandably.”
“So. To what exactly do I owe the pleasure?”
“Peter Hansen and Tony Moran.”
Will gave him a quizzical look.
“Do you know them?” Dan asked.
“Yes, of course. Peter I know personally. I’ve met Tony at one or two social functions.”
“Then you may have heard Tony has disappeared. I’ve been hired to find him.”
Will’s expression turned serious. “I’d heard he was missing. Is he in danger?”
Dan shook his head. “No immediate danger, at least according to Peter. It seems Tony has a gambling problem.”
Will shrugged. “Rumours are rife. One can’t help overhearing them in this place.”
Dan half expected him to quote