“I can understand that. Do you have the extradition waiver form?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Thank you. For the record, I am now handing to the prisoner, Eleanor Jane Rigby, the consent form as required by Revised Code of Washington, title ten dash…uh, eighty-nine dash…”
“Uh, oh three oh, Your Honor.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wallace. Will the prisoner please sign where the bailiff indicates?”
“What happens if I don’t sign this?”
“We will hold you here for up to sixty days, New Mexico will make a formal filing of its demand, and there will be a full hearing.”
“And in the end I’ll go back anyway.”
“The court cannot advise you of that, Miss Rigby. That’s what an attorney would do.”
“Where do I sign?…Here?”
“Let the record show that the prisoner is signing the waiver consent form in the presence of the court.”
“And at this time I am tending the document to the court for your signature, Your Honor.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wallace. The prisoner will be remanded to the King County jail, until such time as the New Mexico authorities send someone to escort her back.”
“Your Honor?”
“Was there something else, Mr. Wallace?”
“We’d like to get her out of here tomorrow. We’ve been informed by New Mexico that they can’t send a deputy until at least Tuesday of next week.”
“Is that a particular problem?”
“It’s a potential problem. Today is what?…Thursday. That means she’ll be in our custody five days and nights. I know I don’t have to remind Your Honor about potential problems with young female prisoners. We don’t want another Bender case on our hands.”
“Is there a special reason to think we might have such an incident?”
“I understand this prisoner has a history of suicide attempts.”
“Is that true, Miss Rigby?”
“I wouldn’t call it a history…I cut my wrist once.”
“Your Honor—”
“I understand, Mr. Wallace. Nobody wants a replay of Bender. What do you suggest?”
“We have a man here to take her back.”
“It’s New Mexico’s responsibility. Will Washington be reimbursed for the costs of such a trip?”
“It won’t cost us anything.”
“Tell me about it…gently, please.”
“Shortly after the arrest of the prisoner and her transfer here from East King County, our office was contacted by a Mr. Cliff Janeway of Denver, Colorado, who was sent here to arrest the suspect and escort her back.”
“Sent by whom?”
“An agent of the bail bondsman.”
The judge closed her eyes. “Mr. Wallace, are you seriously asking me to release this young woman in the care of a bounty hunter?”
“He’s not a bounty hunter, Your Honor.”
“Please, then…what is he?”
“He’s a rare-book dealer in Denver. More to the point, he’s a former officer of the Denver Police Department with more than fifteen years experience.”
“Is Mr. Janeway in this court?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She motioned with her hand. “Come.”
I walked down into the arena.
“You are Mr. Cliff Janeway?”
“Yes, I am.”
“And you were engaged, as Mr. Wallace said, to arrest the defendant and return her to New Mexico.”
“Yes.”
“Do you have papers?…Let me see them, please.”
“We’ve checked him out thoroughly, Your Honor. We’ve talked with a Detective Hennessey at the Denver Police, who was his partner for several years, and to a Mr. Steed, who is chief of detectives. Both gentlemen spoke uncompromisingly of his dedication and character.”
“All right, Mr. Wallace, I get the picture. Be quiet a minute and let me read this stuff, will you?”
Silence.
The judge cleared her throat. “Mr. Janeway?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You were hired by a Mr. Slater of Denver, who was representing the Martin Bailbondsmen of Taos, is that correct?”
“Yes, it is.”
She blinked and looked at me through her glasses. “I can’t help wondering, sir, how a police detective becomes a dealer in rare books.”
“He gets very lucky, Your Honor.”
She smiled. “Have you ever done any bounty-hunter work?”
“No, ma’am.”
“This is not something you do for a living?”
“Not at all.”
“How did you come to accept this case?”
“It was offered to me. Mr. Slater didn’t have time to come out of town, and he asked me to come in his place.”
“How did you propose to escort Miss Rigby back to New Mexico?”
“By air.”
She nodded her approval. Just to be sure, she said, “No three-day trips by automobile?”
“No, ma’am.”
“What does New Mexico have to say, Mr. Wallace?”
“Well, naturally they’d love to come get her—you know how those sheriff’s boys love to travel. But they understand our problem too.”
“They have no objection to Mr. Janeway?”
“They’re comfortable with him. One or two of them know him, as a matter of fact.”
“What about you, Miss Rigby? Do you have any objection to being escorted by Mr. Janeway?”
“I don’t care who takes me.”
“We sure don’t want to keep her any longer than we have to, Your Honor.”
“All right. The prisoner is remanded to the custody of the jailer, who will release her to Mr. Janeway upon presentation of the papers and the airline tickets. I hope I’m making myself clear, Mr. Janeway. I’m holding you personally responsible for this prisoner’s safe passage. I’m not interested in any deal you may have made with this…what’s his name?…Slater, in Denver. You baby-sit this one all the way into Taos. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Next case.”
11
The Rigbys sat in stony silence in the first row of Judge Maria McCoy’s court. Archie Moon sat beside Crystal, directly behind the defendant’s table. The room was nearly empty beyond the second row: there were a couple of legal eagles—people who drift from court to court, endlessly fascinated by the process—and across the aisle sat a young blond woman with a steno pad. I was surprised to find even that much Seattle interest in the plight of a defendant in a legal action thirteen hundred miles removed.
“I shouldn’t even talk to you, you son of a bitch,” Crystal said.
I had found them in the cafeteria, eating sand-wiches out of a vending machine, and I sat with them and tried to explain how the deceit had begun, how the lie kept growing until the appearance of the cops put an end to it. We got past it quickly. It was my intent they now embraced, and they gripped my hand with the desperation of shipwreck survivors who come upon a lifeboat in choppy, hostile waters. I told them what was going to happen and what I was going to try to do. I would ferry Eleanor into Taos, meet with her lawyer, and see if any mitigating circumstances might be uncovered that would sway the court toward leniency. There had been a time, not too long ago, when I had done such work for a living, and I had been good at it. But I hadn’t even heard Eleanor’s side of things yet, so I didn’t know what was possible.
“I’ve got to tell you,” Crystal said, “we don’t have any money to pay you. None at all.”
“Call it one I owe you. If I can help in any way, it’ll be my pleasure.”
Crystal asked if she should try to come to New Mexico. I told her not yet: let me get my feet on the ground and see how the wind was blowing. Gaston Rigby watched us talk, his sad and weary eyes moving from her face to mine. “If it does become a question of money,” he said, “you let us know, we’ll get it somehow.” Archie Moon said he had a little money put aside, enough to get him to Taos if I thought he could do any good. I told him to keep that thought on the back burner and I’d let him know.