loose.
Cate dropped the gavel in shock and jumped to her feet.
“WHORES AND BITCHES!” the man shouted, his hair and parka flying, running crazily around the courtroom. The courtroom deputy and the marshals gave chase.
“Judge, let’s go!” Justin Case shouted, materializing at Cate’s side and clamping two powerful hands on her arms, but she resisted.
“No, wait, this is my courtroom.” She watched, riveted.
Men in suits lunged for the running man, who kept bolting randomly away. Marshals and FBI agents poured into the courtroom. AUSA Crystal gave chase. The gallery fled the packed pews, climbing over the backs of the seats. Linderman got knocked over in the melee, and Dow ducked for cover under counsel table.
“YOU’RE A WHORE!” the man screamed, suddenly changing direction and bolting toward the dais, just out of reach of the marshals and the courtroom deputy. “A NASTY, DIRTY WHORE!”
“Gotcha!” a marshal shouted, and two new marshals grabbed the man by the hood of his parka but it came off in their hands.
“SHE’S A WHORE UNDER THEM ROBES!” The man flung himself headlong into the gallery, as if it were a humongous mosh pit. “A WHORE! SHE’S NOT FOOLIN’ ME!”
People screamed. Reporters sprang aside. Sketch artists dropped their big pads. The gallery cleared except for the screaming man and men in suits, converging from everywhere.
“We’re leaving, Judge!” Justin Case shouted and hurried her down the stairs and out of the courtroom.
Cate took one last look back, and standing amid the chaos was one man she hadn’t seen before.
And he was watching her go.
CHAPTER 31
“What happened?” Val asked, from her computer. “You’re back early.”
“You don’t wanna know,” Cate answered, coming into chambers with Justin Case, Sam, Special Agent Brady, and assorted FBI agents and federal marshals. They talked excitedly among themselves, hopped up on adrenaline and testosterone. At the disruption, Emily came out of the law clerk’s office and over to Val’s desk.
“It was so
“Oh, no.” Val’s eyes flared in alarm, and she rose from her desk.
“Oh, yes.” Cate managed a smile. “And we’ll leave out the ‘tis a pity she’s a whore’ part, or the fact that one William Dow entered a courtroom to plead guilty today and his rights were trampled upon.” Cate thought of the poor man being knocked over in his shackles. “In fact, he was trampled upon, too.”
“That’s awful!” Emily said, her mouth a dark-lipsticked O. “Did he try to hurt you, Judge?”
“No, he just wanted to heckle me.”
“He was a psycho!” Sam interjected. “A total psycho!”
“Indelicate perhaps, but true,” Cate said, but beside her, Justin Case was frowning.
“He could have hurt you, Judge. We still don’t know if he was armed or-”
“That’s right, Judge,” Brady interrupted. “I’ll find out all the details after he’s taken into custody and let you know.”
“How could he be armed?” Cate asked. “He couldn’t get a gun or a knife through the metal detector.”
“A ceramic knife goes through a metal detector,” Justin answered. “I trained with the Mossad, and they routinely use ceramic knives. Those suckers cut a throat cleaner than a metal blade.”
“You’re welcome.” Justin flashed his sweet, ceramic-knife smile. “But next time I say go, you have to go, Judge.”
“Right. Sure.” Cate saluted. “Brady and the cavalry were all over it, too. Thanks to you all, too. You’re last but not least.”
Brady nodded, acknowledging the recognition, but his expression remained stoic. “Thanks, Judge, but I’m afraid the apprehension took longer than expected. Too many cooks.”
“Sure, Judge.” Val handed her a phone message and met her eye meaningfully. “This call came in while you were in court.”
“Thanks.” Cate didn’t have to look at the message to know the caller.
“Why don’t I order you a salad, so you can eat something before you go see the Chief Judge?”
“That’s okay, I’m not hungry.” Cate nodded to the assembled army. “Thanks again, all of you. If you will excuse me, I’ll go do my job. Are you all set for lunch?”
“Yes, thanks,” Brady answered. “When are you in court again, Judge?”
“Not until Monday, right, Val?” Cate couldn’t believe how much had happened in one week. Was it just last Monday that she had presided over a trial? And Simone had been alive, and Marz? And her scummy private life had been her own? “TGIF,” she said, and they all laughed.
“Right. Monday at nine, Judge.
“Yay! Crime that doesn’t involve
“Yes, Judge.”
“Bench memo ready?”
“Just finished it, and the final draft of the Simone opinion is on your chair.”
“We’ll talk about both after I get back from Chief Judge Sherman’s chambers. Please make me a package to work over the weekend on
“Welcome, Judge,” they answered, and Cate slipped into her office, closed the door behind her, and crossed to the phone. She set down the message on her desk and sank into her chair, still in her robes. After two rings, the phone was answered.
“Graham?”
“Cate?”
“Yes. Hi. Sorry I missed your call. I just had a crazy guy loose in my courtroom. Film at eleven.”
“Cate, you’re so famous.” Graham sounded so cold that his voice had its own wind-chill factor. “The news is all you, all the time.”
“I know. This was really something. The FBI thinks he tried to kill me, but the Mossad disagrees, as do all sensible people.”
“So, is any of it true, in the newspaper?”
“Cate? Are you there?”
“Yes.”
“I asked you, is it true?”
“About me being stalked or the dating or the TV series?” Cate asked, as if she didn’t know. She watched the rain hit the window and run down it in sooty rivulets, like tiny, polluted rivers. She was sure someone had ordered this ecological disaster just for her.
“I meant the dating,” Graham answered. “Is it true?”
