'Maybe he's a financial genius.'
Yeah. Or maybe he was on the take, and that's really what got him kicked off the bench.'
Magozzi shrugged. 'His rep was always pristine, even drunk as a skunk for all those years. He was a good judge when he had his house in order… and even when he didn't.'
'Yeah, I guess you're right. So maybe he is a financial genius.'
The elevator drifted to a gentle, silent halt, and the doors slid open onto a beaming Wild Jim. He had a lowball in one hand and a half-smoked cigar in the other. 'Detectives! Let me welcome you as the first guests ever to my modest riverside aerie. Please, come in.'
They took a few, tentative steps inside and let their eyes wander around the big, mostly empty space. There was no art on the walls, the furniture was sparse and nondescript, and the open gourmet kitchen sparkled as if it had never been used. It was utterly lacking in the owner's personality, with the single exception of a sofa table that served as an easel for a long row of framed pictures. Every one of them featured the judge and a smiling, handsome young man.
'Nice place you got here, Judge, and not so modest,' Gino said politely.
'It's a considerable step down from my former domiciles, and most of the furniture is from IKEA and Target, but it serves me for the moment. Can I interest either of you in a libation? I'm drinking what they call a handcrafted bourbon, which would imply something a toothless hill denizen would concoct in a bathtub in the Ozarks, but it's actually quite smooth.'
'No thanks,' Magozzi said, his eyes still fixed on the table full of photos. 'By the way, thanks for the fruit basket.'
'You're very welcome.' The judge noticed the direction of Magozzi's gaze and gestured to the display with his glass. 'My son. I suppose it's a bit trite, having such a blatant memorial, but when you lose a child, your only child, all your sensibilities, both design-wise and otherwise, cease to matter.'
Magozzi and Gino both cringed inwardly, remembering the relentless media coverage of his son's suicide, and all the speculations surrounding it. He hadn't left much to chance by overdosing or wrist-slashing - he'd gone for the sure thing, which in this case had been a.44 slug with a Magnum load.
We're really sorry about that, sir,' Gino finally said with the genuine empathy of a fellow father. 'Really sorry.'
'Yes, so am I. There's no getting over such a thing. Obviously.' He gave them a thin, sad smile, then raised his glass with forced bravado and drained it. 'After it happened, people always wanted a reason for why such a kind, intelligent young man with a promising future ahead of him would do such a thing. Hell, I wanted a reason myself, although I don't know why. There just isn't ever a justifiable explanation for such an act, and even if there were, it wouldn't change the impact of the aftermath.'
Magozzi shook his head. 'No, I'm sure it wouldn't.'
The judge refilled his glass. You know, I have recently come to realize that people who carry a great burden of guilt ravenously seek saviors anywhere they can, in all shapes, colors, and forms. Intellectually, I find the need for redemption frivolous; but emotionally, I fear I may have succumbed. The difference between me and the delusional masses is that I prefer my personal Jesus to be of the liquid sort, and a warm amber in color.'
'You ever think about going to spin-dry, Judge?' Gino asked him.
He looked amused. 'Not once, Detective Rolseth. You can't drink in rehab.'
'That's kind of the point. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, you know. You already lived through that.'
'You're correct about that. However, I don't believe alcoholism is a disease; I believe it is a choice, and I am thrilled with my choice. Not very progressive of me, but it's the truth. At least it's my truth.'
He wandered over to a seating area that faced a stunning vista of the Mississippi. 'I'm going to sit now, and I invite you to do the same.'
Magozzi and Gino followed suit and settled into hard- seated, modern chairs that were so uncomfortable, it almost seemed as if they had been deliberately designed to be that way.
'Can I at least cut some cigars for you gentlemen, since you're not drinking? They're the best Cuba has to offer - utter contraband a diplomat friend smuggles in for me on a biannual basis, but being that such legal transgressions don't fall under your purview, I think you could indulge without ethical conflict.'
Magozzi shook his head. 'We've just got a quick request for you, and then we'll leave you to it.' He noticed a flash of disappointment in the judge's eyes, and perhaps a little desperation, and in that brief moment, he saw the essence of what Judge Jim Bukowski truly was, or at least what he'd become - a hollow man, gutted by tragedy, who didn't want to be alone with his demons at the moment.
'Suit yourselves. You are without a doubt consummate professionals, and I appreciate that, especially given my current disposition as a shamed, previously elected official who will never again have the honor of paying Bar Association dues. So, what's this request?'
'We got a call this morning from a beat cop who covers this area. An Officer Rondestvedt.'
'Ah, yes. The nice young man with that rather unwieldy but regionally appropriate ethnic name. He was kind enough to escort me back to my condo last night.'
'Did you tell him you were working with us on the drowning?'
'Absolutely not. I imagine he merely inferred that from our conversation, but I never actually used the word
Gino, who had little patience for subterfuge, just sighed. 'Listen, Judge, you can't be doing that, okay? No more name-dropping or inferences or golden lines of bull to the guys down there, you got it? If you do something illegal, weasel out of it some other way. You use our names out of school, it makes extra work for us, and we've got a full plate already.'
The judge nodded sternly. 'I understand. And I will honor your request because I like and respect you both very much. I'm also sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you. But in all honesty, justice has defined my entire life, and I don't have skin in the game anymore. So if I can be of service…' he let the sentence trail off.
Gino tore his gaze away from the river view that was making him rethink his career choice. 'You could help us out a lot if you could remember anything else from that night.'
'I don't even remember that night anymore.' He narrowed his eyes and looked at both of them. 'I've tried to follow the case in the news, of course. And obviously you know that the story barely made it above the fold in either the St. Paul or Minneapolis papers.' He paused to give them a knowing smile. 'Have we offered the press an edited police report, perhaps?'
Magozzi pretended nonchalance. 'What makes you ask that?'
The judge chuckled, raspy and deep. 'There were no details of any import in either paper or on any local news channel. No photos, except for the body bag going into the bus. Not even a mention of the victim's gender. You did an excellent job blocking the media from the scene, and that's the truly intriguing part. Coupled, of course, with the fact that Homicide is working what appears on the surface to be an accidental drowning.'
Magozzi looked down at his lap and almost wished he'd accepted the offer of a drink. So far the river drowning had been sidebar news. People were always drowning in Minnesota, and the Mississippi had taken more than her share over the past few years. Locals usually assumed it was an immigrant from some place or other who saw any body of water as a free fish shop, and never bothered to learn to swim, so it raised no eyebrows when the story got a sympathetic reading and little else. 'We're obligated to investigate every death until a cause has been determined. You know that.'
'Indeed I do. But I also suspect that the cause of death has already been established by the very efficient Dr. Rambachan, and that your continued interest in my memory of that night indicates that the death was homicide, not accident.'
Gino actually smiled. 'You know what, Judge? You need a hobby. Bowling, maybe. Or bingo.'
The judge smiled. 'Was your victim murdered before he ended up in the water?'
Magozzi and Gino exchanged a long glance that only the two of them could read. 'No,' Magozzi finally said. 'He drowned all right. Somebody held him under the water and watched him die.'
'How do you know that?'
'We saw it.'
'What do you mean, you saw it?'
'Whoever did it took video footage of the murder and posted it on the Web.'
