'Get Mr. Tullio his milk, Joey,' ordered Judge Rudolph.
The clerk blanched. 'Your Honor, I don't know how I'd get milk in a snowstorm. I'm sure all the stores are —'
'I don't care which tit you have to squeeze, Joey. Just get him the goddamn milk.'
'Yes, sir,' the clerk said and took off.
Judge Rudolph's gaze stayed pinned to the tailor. This conversation should have been over ten minutes ago. The juror should be deliberating, not sitting in chambers complaining about his tummy. For God's sake. Judge Rudolph hated the trial level. He belonged in the appellate tier, where the talk was about the law, not elcers.
'I hope Joey's okay out there,' Nick said, just to make conversation because the judge looked so mad at him.
'I'm sure he's fine.'
'Prolly.'
'Probably,' the judge corrected him.
'Okay. Good. He prolly is,' Nick said, just to agree, but Judge Rudolph only looked madder.
'I'm not worried about my clerk, Mr. Tullio, I'm worried about you,' Judge Rudolph said, though he didn't mean a word of it. He was worried about how that 'tit' would play in the newspapers if it came out. Would women's groups oppose his nomination? 'Remember, Carol,' he said to the stenographer, 'this transcript is sealed until I say further.'
Carol nodded, understanding. She'd worked for Judge Rudolph since her divorce. If he went up to the Court, he'd take care of her. She'd skip a couple grade levels and the benefits were out of this world. 'Yes, Your Honor.'
'Thank you.' The judge turned to the tailor and tried to look sympathetic. 'Mr. Tullio if you have no other problems and you're not in need of medical care, you can return to the jury and resume your deliberations.'
'Uh, what? You mean, uh, go back?'
'Yes, of course. I'll send the milk in as soon as it arrives. The jury has a job to do right now, a very important job. Dinner tonight is scheduled for seven-thirty, under extended hours. You can get some substantive deliberation in before then, I'm sure.'
'I don't know. My nerves. The stress.'
Judge Rudolph leaned farther over his desk, almost in the tailor's face. He'd be damned if he'd let this pipsqueak screw him over. 'You're not telling me you're too sick to deliberate, are you?'
'Well, no. I mean, yeah. Yes. In a way. Your Honor.'
'But you don't need a doctor.'
'No, Your Honor.'
'All you need is milk.'
'Yes, Your Honor. Sir.'
'So why can't you go back and discuss the case?'
Carol cleared her throat noisily, warning the judge off. Judge Rudolph knew he was treading on dangerous ground, especially since he hadn't called the lawyers in. How close was he to reversible error? Where was that goddamn law clerk? Damn!
'I can't go back because my nerves…' Panic seized Nick and strangled the life from his sentence. He felt too scared to talk and too scared not to. He couldn't go back to the jury and he couldn't stay here with the judge. It was like he was caught in the middle and something was squeezing him in a fist. 'I just wish Antoinetta was here,' Nick croaked, near tears.
Judge Rudolph scrutinized the tailor, scanning his working-class features and searching his wet and rheumy eyes. Suddenly, the judge felt as if he could see into the man's shopworn little soul. He understood what was happening, comprehended it with a crystalline clarity he hadn't experienced since his law review comment. 'I know just what you need, Mr. Tullio,' the judge said.
'You do?' Nick asked.
'Yes.' Judge Rudolph breathed in deeply and his chest inflated. When he ascended to the bench of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, he would do great things for the citizens of the Commonwealth. But right now he wanted them out of his chambers.
15
'I'm comin' into the conference room with you,' Bogosian said as he faced Marta in the hallway at Rosato & Associates.
'No.' As threatened as she felt inside, Marta had to stand her ground.
'I gotta hear what you're sayin'.'
'You can't.' Marta watched him eye the two young associates through the glass wall of the conference room. They were cleaning up the file, and Marta didn't want Bogosian anywhere near them. She felt bad enough leading him to them. She wouldn't jeopardize them further. 'You can't come in. It's a privileged conversation.'
'Big fuckin' deal,' Bogosian said, though he had only the vaguest idea what she meant. So many fuckin' words. He hated lawyers. He never had an honest one in his life, and they couldn't keep him out of jail.
'How am I going to explain who you are?'
'I don't give a fuck. You're not leaving my sight.'
Marta pointed a short distance down the hallway. 'Look, there's another conference room directly across from the one I'll be working in. It has glass walls like the one I'll be in. You can see everything I'm doing. I won't make
