Page 102 of Precise Justice

“Great, Stan, how are you?” Maddy replied.

Marc looked at her and asked, “Is there anyone in law enforcement in the metro area you don’t know?”

Maddy put on a thoughtful look, eyes toward the ceiling, and said, “No, I don’t think so. That’s why I can drive the way I do and not get a ticket.”

“I thought it was your little trick of unbuttoning your blouse,” Marc said.

“That too.”

“You want me to lock him up, Maddy?”

“Hmmm. I’ll let you know,” Maddy said. “Can we sneak into Lundgren’s court and avoid the mob?” Maddy asked.

“Do I need to see his ID?” Stan asked.

“He’s with me,” Maddy said.

“Okay, I’ll let him in.”

As they walked down the hallway toward the arraignment court’s back door, Marc asked her, “Having fun?”

Maddy put her arm through his, smiled, said yes, then kissed his cheek.

“We’ll have none of that,” they heard Stan say from behind.

The public seating for the arraignment court was, at least, fifty per cent larger than a normal courtroom. This was to accommodate the lawyers and family members of those being arraigned, especially on a Monday morning. For a midweek, two o’clock afternoon arraignment of one person, the place should be almost empty. Between the media and spectators, every seat was taken. This explained the mob in the hall.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Kadella, are you here for Roberta Craig-Powell?” Marc heard a woman’s voice ask as they entered.

“Hi, Joyce. Yes, I am,” Marc said then handed her a one page document, Certificate of Representation.

“Hi, Maddy,” Joyce, Lundgren’s clerk said.

“Hi, is he in a good mood?” Maddy whispered, meaning Judge Lundgren.

“Yes, I think so. Marc, you’re to go back to see him. You know the prosecutor, Nicole Barnes?”

“I don’t think so,” Marc replied.

“She’s new,” and while Joyce looked at Maddy, said, “and very young and pretty.”

Maddy gave Marc her best ‘behave yourself’ look while pointing fingers at her eyes and then Marc. The ‘I’m watching you’ signal.

Marc, knowing there was nothing he could say that would not get him in trouble, shook his head and went to the back door.

Maddy took a seat at the defense table and smiled for Philo Anson, the Star Tribune reporter who had obtained his usual seat. Front row directly behind the defense table.

“Mr. Kadella!” Judge Lundgren almost yelled. “Please, come in, have a seat, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Marc approached the judge’s desk while a tall, slender young woman stood to greet him. Joyce was right, Nicole Barnes was a looker.

“Have you met Ms. Barnes,” Lundgren asked.

“No, and I would remember.”

“Don’t go there,” Lundgren said. “He’s engaged, Nicole, to a knockout,” Lundgren said.

“Knockout is right, in more ways than one,” Marc said.

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