Esprit de Corpse

Judge Wilson made a few notes. Raising her head, she blinked at Detective Leo as if surprised to still find him there. “Thank you, Detective. You may return to your duties.”

She made another note, then focused back on the courtroom.

“Well, gentlemen and Ms. Iver. I’m ready to make my decision now. Ms. Iver, if you would stand. I know we’ve rushed this along, partly for expediency’s sake and partly to get rid of that traffic jam created by the media.” She shot a glance at the small knot of reporters near the exit.

“But I cannot, in good faith, acquit you of the charges of the murder in the first degree.”

The crowd gasped and began to comment to each other. A harsh look from the judge quelled the chatter.

“Nor can I declare a mistrial.”

Again the crowd gasped. Shannon’s face turned bloodless—her living face matching the paleness of her disembodied soul. Would Conrad really faint?

“Instead, I am doing exactly what a preliminary hearing is designed to do. I’m dismissing the case altogether. There isn’t enough evidence here against Ms. Iver to warrant a trial, so I want this going on record as never having happened. Ms. Iver, you are free to go.” She nodded sweetly at Conrad, who still looked as if he might faint, before turning to her court clerk. “Both counsels. You are to read up on Canadian criminal trial procedures since you seem to have forgotten everything you learned in law school. I want a three-thousand-word essay defining the differences between a hearing and a trial on my desk by Monday. And you are not to watch any more courtroom dramas on TV. Either of you. Any questions?”

I watched the words “But, Your Honor!” die on both lawyers’ lips. Their gazes met; once again the two opposing counsels were united, this time in misery.

“Now then.” The judge shuffled her notes before looking over at the court clerk. “Who’s up next, Pam?”

“That would be Ms. Maddy Stryker on one, no, two, no, three charges, Your Honor.” She rifled through her notes. “Two new assault charges have been added to her murder one charge since we last saw her.”

The judge pushed her glasses back up her nose and flipped a few pages in one of those heavy green legal folders. “Oh, goody. Another live one. Seems she likes to strangle people. But let’s have a short recess first, shall we?” Judge Wilson lowered the file and exited by a side door. The rest of the observers began to make their way from the courtroom looking extremely disappointed. No murder meant no murder trial. Don’t you hate when that happens?

I stepped forward to escort Conrad back to his cell before realizing I, in my role as prison guard, had no further business with him. I could go now and meet him as agreed back in the ladies’ room we’d scoped out before the trial—I mean, preliminary hearing.

Something caught my eye. The stapler, still in its plastic baggie, lay on the witness stand where the detective had left it. As Lucy is my witness, I’ll never be bothered by that damn stapler again. I grabbed it by the baggie; no way was I touching my own blood and brainy bits, especially after they’d had ten days to, uh, percolate. I shoved the whole thing in my uniform pants pocket. It stuck out a bit but remained safely lodged there.

I followed Conrad from the courtroom.

Outside in the hall, Dante waited next to Willa. We locked eyes for one moment.

“Thanks for bringing the document.” Conrad gifted Willa with a big smile. His easy win must have left him feeling gracious. Conrad in a good mood was exactly what we needed in order to enforce our unsanctioned Deal.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to powder my nose,” Conrad told Willa. “The press will want me to make a statement and then we can head back to the office. I’m sure there are many urgent matters that require my immediate attention.”

“Not really,” Willa muttered, but only I heard her as I passed her on my way to join Conrad in the ladies’ room.

Chapter 14 Fatal Distraction

AS SOON AS the door shut behind us, Conrad held out the contract amendment. “If you would be so kind.”

Jeez. I liked him better when he was being an obnoxious prick. Conrad as nice guy made my stomach roil. But I knew what I had to do.

With a sense of tragic irony and a more than a little nausea, I drew the stapler out of my pocket and opened the baggie. I expected a waft of rotting brain to hit me, but it merely smelled a bit musty.

Just as Detective Leo had done, I gripped it by the baggie, not because I didn’t want to get Theresa’s fingerprints on it, but because, ewww. I applied just enough pressure to eject a staple partway so that the prongs stuck out like wee silver fangs. Like that day in my office a little over a year ago.

I held out my free hand, surprised to see how much it trembled. I glanced around for Dante, but if he was here in the ladies’ room with me, he wasn’t visible.

“C’mon. What’re you waiting for?” Conrad demanded, his eyes boring into my hand as if he could draw blood that way, his mouth partly open. He panted harshly.

Was that drool?

I could see his demonic countenance overlaying Shannon’s pretty features. If he stayed too long, would her outer self begin to take the shape of his inner demon?

I closed my eyes and slashed the stapler toward my hand. Oh, owww! Burning pain . . . didn’t happen.

I opened my eyes to find I’d missed. Oops.

I tried again, this time peeking through my lashes to guarantee I’d score a hit. And this time, ouch! Two dark red scratches traced across the back of Theresa’s hand. Blood immediately welled up along the cuts.

Holding out the contract, Conrad pointed to a page. “Here. Here.” He flipped to the last page. “And especially here.”

Placing the stapler on the counter, I bled cooperatively in all the right places.

Dante appeared then. Coincidence or had he been watching the whole time?

“Thou must giveth thy document unto me now so that I may registereth it with official channels.” His face screwed up and I could see his lips move while he repeated the sentence to himself. No doubt he was making sure he had all the thees and thous lined up correctly. “No, that’s right. Righteth.” He reached for the contract.

Way to get with the program, Dante! I felt my grip loosening on the grudge I was trying to hold.

Conrad clutched the document to him, unconcerned about getting Theresa’s blood on Shannon’s shirt. “No way. I’m making a copy first.” He produced Theresa’s iPhone and flipped through the icons to get the one he wanted. Then he tried to take a shot of the front page while balancing it on his hand. He mumbled something about the lighting and moved over to the bank of sinks where the fluorescents shone unflattering light down upon us.

The little recorded click sounded. He flipped the page. Click. Flip. Click. He turned to the signature page, photographed it and hit more keys.

“There. I’ve sent those photos to my private email account. Now you can take it.”

He held it out to Dante.

Dante closed his fingers around it, but as soon as Conrad let go, it drifted to the bathroom floor. Drifted right through Dante’s fingers!

“Goddamn it! Pick that up!” Conrad roared at Dante, who began the crackle and fade in and out. Then in. Then out completely. Almost completely. If I unfocussed my eyes, I could see static where he’d been. It was like on the Starship Enterprise when the transporter beam is taxed to extreme. We must have been away from Hell so long he was losing his ability to manifest at all.

Conrad cursed again and bent down to pick the contract amendment off the floor. “Here.” He thrust it at me.