Выбрать главу

“Yes.”

“And the bodyguard is here, Judge.”

“Good.” Cate pressed the button to pick up. Andrew Kingston was a senior judge and a real sweetheart. She remembered trying cases before him as a young associate, and he never made fun of her beginner cross-examinations. “Good morning, Andrew.”

“Cate, I’ve just seen the newspaper, and you must get a copy. Not the Times, the Inquirer. My secretary says it’s in the Daily News, too. They’re writing the most terrible things about you, and they’re trying to make it about our wonderful court. Spinning the story, I know it’s called. Maligning us all, when it’s in fact the most tawdry piece of pulp. Pulp!”

“I know, Andrew. I heard.”

Ring ring! The other phone rang again, but Cate let Val pick up. If it was Graham, he’d have to wait.

“What’s this world coming to when people write such scandalous stories? To publish such things about a member of the court, our court, it’s a travesty! Of course, it’s scurrilous!”

“Andrew, I’m sorry but it’s true.” There was complete silence on the end of the line. After a minute, Cate worried he’d had a heart attack. “Andrew?”

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. My battery, on my hearing aid. It must be running out. I thought you said it was true.”

“No, I’m sorry, Andrew. I’ve made some mistakes, I admit it.”

“My, Cate. It’s true?”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry.”

“It seems I’ve made a mistake, too. I’ll leave you to it, then. Good-bye, Cate. Good-bye.”

Cate let him hang up, then set the receiver down. The phone began ringing again, almost instantly. The intercom buzzed, and she picked up for Val. “Who is it?”

“Judge Mee.”

Oh boy. “How many judges are on this court, again?”

“Eighteen, I think.”

“Okay, I’ll pick up,” Cate said, and hit the button.

“Cate, did you see the paper? It’s revolting, what they’re saying. And on TV?”

“I know.” Cate cringed.

“How can they make a TV show about you without your permission? Did you give permission for this, Cate?”

“No, of course not.”

Only fifteen more to go.

Cate took the next fifteen calls, from each of her colleagues who had toasted her when they thought she was all the things she appeared to be. Most were upset about the “dating,” but many also cared about her safety and their own. They had called about the articles in the newspaper, or online, heard accounts on local TV, on KYW radio, had gotten an e-mail about it, or heard from one of their law clerks about a new website, www.IscrewedJudgeFante.com.

Cate was so busy taking the calls from her colleagues that she didn’t get a chance to reach Graham, or take calls from Matt Sorian, CNN, the Philadelphia Inquirer, Matt Lauer, MSNBC, ABC, Court-TV, The View, NOW, the Wall Street Journal, Henry Schleiff, Time magazine, Entertainment Tonight, Celebrity Justice, the New York Times, Steven Brill, the National Law Journal, David E. Kelley, American Lawyer, Judges Amy Nislow, Adrienne Drost, and Fiona McCann of the National Association of Women Judges, the William Morris Agency, and Detective Steve Nesbitt.

By ten-thirty, only two of her colleagues hadn’t called, and Cate was due to see one of them, Chief Judge Sherman, at one o’clock.

The other one was Judge Meriden.

Cate tried not to think about it, as a timid knock came at her door. “Come in, Sam,” she called out, taking the bench memo from her inbox. She had to get ready for court.

Not that she was looking forward to it.

And what about Graham?

CHAPTER 30

“Good job, Sam,” Cate said after they were finished. She got up from the desk and stretched her arms, trying to shake off the dreads. Rain poured outside the window, making the office gray and gloomy, which she factored into her penance. She didn’t know what to expect from court today. She’d been in the judge cocoon all morning, and even though it was a lot less friendly than it used to be, at least it wasn’t the public. She wondered if she’d ever leave the courthouse. Maybe Neiman Marcus delivers?

“Thanks, Judge.” Sam gathered the papers and pleadings into a stack. “Be right back. I need to get my tie and jacket for court.”

“Fine.” Cate crossed to her closet, took her judicial robe from a hanger, and slid into it on the fly, as Sam opened her office door into a crowd of men in suits. She wasn’t completely surprised and was getting used to a police presence in chambers.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” she called out, entering the reception area, and saw Brady pushing his way to the front of the pack. His eyes looked tired, and he had on the same dark suit, though his white oxford shirt must have been fresh, because it puffed at the chest in a telltale way. A black-patterned tie color-coordinated with the black wire coiling from his ear to his collar.

“Good morning, Judge,” Brady said, shaking her hand, too professional to let show that he’d read the newspaper.

“Don’t you sleep, you poor thing?” Cate fastened her robe at its gathered yoke.

“I’m fine.” Brady gestured behind him. “I understand you hired a bodyguard.”

“Yes, and he has concurrent jurisdiction.” Cate stood on tiptoe, eyeing the crowd, which smiled at her, to a man. She didn’t have to ask how many had newspaper subscriptions. “I haven’t had a chance to meet him yet. Is he scary? Bodyguard, where are you?”

“He’s coming!” Val called back, and a man shaped like a tractor-trailer drove through the crowd. He looked to be about thirty years old and stood five foot ten. His massive shoulders strained the seams of a dark brown suit tailored for mere mortals, and a dark tie choked his oversized neck like a tourniquet. He had blue eyes, a sandy brush cut, and a smile too sweet to be truly scary.

“I’m Justin Stein, Judge,” he said, shaking her hand lightly, to permit blood flow to the heart.

“Hey, if your last name were Case, you’d be Justin Case. A good name for a bodyguard.” Cate laughed at her own dumb joke, and so did everybody else. She wondered when she became a motel-lounge comedian. Answer: When I got scared, embarrassed, and completely self-conscious. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. What do we do next?”

“You do your job, and I make sure you’re safe. I called the Philly cops and they sent me a photo of Detective Russo.”

“When did they do that?” Cate asked, surprised.

“Early this morning. They turned me down at first, but Detective Nesbitt gave the okay and faxed it over.”

“Good. Are you armed?” Cate asked, and Justin nodded. That makes up for your smile. She turned to Brady. “Okay, what happens now?”

“The courtroom is clear. We have agents in plainclothes in the gallery, and Special Agent Donnelly and I will be in the room. We’ll visually inspect the members of the general public. They won’t be admitted until they go through the metal detector, outside your courtroom.”

“You got me an extra one, like in the gang trials?”

Brady nodded. “In addition, two marshals will be stationed at the metal detector and one of our agents, as well.”

“Yikes.” Cate felt overwhelmed. “I doubt Russo will get anywhere near the courtroom, but maybe we’ll keep out a reporter or two.” Everybody laughed on cue, and Cate smiled, beginning to sweat under her robes. She moved her long sleeves aside and checked her watch: 10:55. Time to go. She called out, “Bye, Val!”

“See you, Judge!” Val called back as Sam wended his way through the crowd, and they all left chambers and traveled down the hallway as a well-armed moblet. When they reached the anteroom, the FBI agents piled in first, leaving Cate and the others to be waved ahead on a silent hand signal, which was when she understood that “making a federal case” was more than a cliché. She walked through the anteroom, braced herself, and entered the courtroom when she heard the courtroom deputy sound off.