Ten o’clock, and then ten-fifteen came without Rogenet having come down the hall. Mac supposed his lawyer had entered the courtroom through an interior door. Mac rolled and unrolled his narrative for perhaps the tenth time.
Three Latinos came out of a courtroom down the corridor. The two women were weeping, while the man clutched the brim of a stained felt cowboy hat so hard Mac could see the white in his knuckles. They went down the stairs, and the hall again went silent.
Ten more minutes passed.
At ten twenty-five, Mac’s cell phone vibrated in his suit jacket.
‘Mac? Reed. Bales says we can’t have her parts. Active investigation, unsolved murder, all the baloney you predicted. He says giving us her parts will destroy the chain of custody of the evidence and they’ll be of no use to anyone in law enforcement.’
The door to courtroom 208 opened and a uniformed officer stepped out. ‘Mr Bassett?’
Mac stood up, the phone still pressed to his ear. ‘Hold on, Reed.’
‘You’re wanted inside,’ the officer said.
‘Reed, I have to go. Call Powell, and anybody you can think of down in Springfield. Put them on notice: you’re going public if you don’t get your sister’s remains back.’
‘I’ll bet Bales already got to them.’
‘Mr Bassett,’ the uniformed officer said more loudly.
‘Do as I said, Reed. Tell everyone you’re going to the newspapers and the Rockford television stations. Tell them you’re going to let the world know that the State of Illinois and Peering County won’t give a grieving brother back the remains of his-’
The officer reached for Mac’s cell phone. ‘Inside, now.’
‘Gotta go,’ Mac said, clicking off. Jamming the phone into his pocket, he felt the envelope he’d forgotten was still in there.
The judge sat up high on his bench. Wainwright sat at the prosecution’s table.
Jim Rogenet was nowhere in sight.
‘Mr Bassett?’ the judge asked.
Mac nodded.
‘Your attorney, Mr Rogenet, has suffered a heart attack.’
FIFTY-NINE
‘How bad?’ Mac asked.
‘We don’t know,’ the judge said. ‘His wife called the clerk’s office a half-hour ago. The message I received says merely that he’s been hospitalized. Right now, our issue is to determine the best way to proceed. When you leave here, Mr Bassett, you’ll contact Mr Rogenet’s office and ask them to assign another of their attorneys to this case.’
‘We can then do status the middle of next week, Your Honor,’ Wainwright said, standing up. ‘This is a simple case. We can go to trial beginning the week after next.’
Mac remembered Rogenet’s concern that Wainwright was lining up Grand Point people to testify against him. ‘I don’t believe we’ve even seen the prosecution’s witness list yet, Your Honor,’ he said.
‘We’ll have it to your new lawyer this afternoon,’ Wainwright said.
‘You’re thinking the sooner I’m in maximum security, the safer the planet will be?’
‘Mr Bassett!’ The judge leaned forward. ‘I understand your concerns, but we’ll maintain civility here.’
‘Mr Rogenet practices alone, Your Honor, as Mr Wainwright well knows,’ Mac said. ‘He shares an office only with an answering machine and a part-time secretary. It will take me some time to get a new lawyer.’
‘The Linder County Bar Association can swiftly give you a referral,’ Wainwright said. He turned to the judge. ‘The people are best served if this matter is handled expeditiously.’
Mac forced a smile for the state’s attorney. ‘It isn’t that I don’t know any lawyers, Ryerson. It’s that honest ones are hard to find.’
‘Mr Bassett!’
‘Sorry, Judge, but I’m being hustled by our fast-talking friend here, and that’s denying me due process. I need time to consider all this, and to bring a new lawyer up to speed,’ Mac said. ‘Ninety days, I’m thinking.’
‘Come on, Bassett. How much is there to consider?’ Wainwright said. ‘The facts are clear.’
‘We’ll check status in a week, Mr Bassett,’ the judge said. ‘Please secure representation by then.’
Mac held up the narrative he’d been clutching, fanning it to make it look thicker. ‘There’s a lot of detail in here, Your Honor. This recounts the board meetings I attended, my honest and open conversations with the chairman and other board personnel about my eventual relocation to Grand Point, and their request that I finish out my term as trustee. Most importantly, it recounts the couple dozen nights I estimate I was too fatigued to drive home to Linder County from my restaurant.’
‘Estimate, Mr Bassett?’ the judge asked.
‘Well, yes. I estimated to avoid bogging down the court in minor details.’
‘Two dozen is too many, Your Honor,’ Wainwright said.
‘I have filed a countersuit, Your Honor, that must also be studied by my new counsel,’ Mac said.
‘Totally frivolous,’ Wainwright said. ‘It’s nothing but a pack of-’
‘Gentlemen!’ The judge glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Let’s see if we can move this along, shall we? We’ll take an early lunch, during which I’ll look over Mr Bassett’s material. We’ll reconvene promptly at one o’clock, at which time I’ll offer my assessment as to how much time Mr Bassett’s new representative will need to prepare his defense.’
He reached for Mac’s narrative and left the courtroom.
Mac passed the longest two hours of his life in the over-lit cafeteria in the basement of the courthouse. By the number of families, mostly poor, sitting at the shiny, Formica-topped tables, Mac guessed that most of the cases before the courts that day were either domestic disputes or involved small claims. Everyone in the cafeteria looked tired rather than unduly frightened. None of them looked like they were sweating jail time.
Mac sipped at his coffee, and tried not to hear the clock ticking away free minutes on the wall.
At one o’clock, the officer assigned to courtroom 208 escorted Mac through a side door and down a narrow carpeted hall to a small, six-person conference room. The judge and Ryerson Wainwright were already seated at the table.
The judge motioned for Mac to sit down and slid the narrative across the table. ‘I’ve read your summary, Mr Bassett. You’ve done an admirable job of presenting your position. However, it’s interpretive, not definitive. There are very few hard facts supporting your claim that while you were a board member you spent the overwhelming number of your nights in Linder County. Consequently, your attorney must argue the merits of your case formally, in court, with respect for the precise requirements of the law. Using your summary, I believe any lawyer you choose can get up to speed quickly. Therefore, I’m inclined to agree with the state’s attorney here and set status for next week, with the trial to follow two weeks after that.’
Mac picked up the summary and slipped the sheaf into the side pocket of his suit jacket. Again he touched the envelope Maggie had left under his windshield wiper. Except now he felt outrageous opportunity.
‘What about these?’ he asked, not daring to wonder what he was doing. He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and upended its contents onto the table.
A hundred gas receipts spilled out – every purchase Maggie must have made before she moved out to Grand Point. Always frugal, she shopped every station in Linder County for the cheapest gas. And bought it two or three gallons at a time, for cash. Which meant that she bought gas almost every day.
‘All these purchases were made in Linder County,’ he said, careful to not lie by claiming he’d made them. ‘They show an awful lot of spending across a lot of days.’ He pushed the loose pile of receipts across to the judge.
‘This has no bearing-’ Wainwright said.
‘Let’s be indulgent, shall we?’ the judge said, scooping the pile toward him.
He began examining the receipts. Several times he shook his head. ‘Do you always buy your gasoline in such small amounts, Mr Bassett?’