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to hold you in contempt, and you will spend at least this evening in the M.C.C.” The Judge’s eyes remained fixed on Adams. “With that admonition, Mr. Adams, you are free to say anything you wish.”
    Adams stood silently, his eye winking at the Judge.
    â€œMr. Hardie, I believe we were speaking.”
    In the back of his mind, Red thought that perhaps this turn of weather might swell into a deprivation of constitutional proportion. “I really don’t want to say anything, Your Honor,” he said. “I’d like Mr. Leppard to speak for me.”
    â€œMr. Leppard, for some absurd reason, which we will learn very shortly,… very shortly, is not here.”
    â€œI really think my lawyer should speak for me, Ma’am,” Hardie repeated.
    â€œI think we may have a solution for that, Mr. Hardie. As I was saying, Alessandro Luca was originally your attorney in this case, at least for the preliminary proceedings, was he not?”
    â€œI really need Mr. Leppard, Your Honor.”
    â€œI don’t know how we ended up with such a withered nigger bitch as our Judge,” Taylor whispered under his breath toward Jackie Engler. Engler glanced quickly, apprehensively, toward the Judge, moving to the far edge of his seat, as far from Taylor as he could.
    â€œWhen this trial was scheduled to begin,” the Judge continued her recollection, “Mr. Luca was then engaged on another trial. At my direction, Mr. Leppard was brought in to represent you, is that not correct?”
    The faint wail of a siren stole through the curtains of the courtroom. The Judge looked toward the windows, cocking an ear. Everyone in the courtroom listened. The sound disappeared.
    â€œBut I told Mr. Luca that I was not relieving him entirely. I see my written notes right here. Claire, call Mr. Luca’s office,” the Judge directed. “Tell Mr. Luca, or anyone who answers, that I want Mr. Luca here this afternoon. This afternoon!” the Judge repeated harshly.
    Trainor lifted the receiver of her phone and pushed buttons on the keypad.
    Another soft wail of a siren was heard. The Judge again looked toward the windows. As the Judge looked away, Hardie bent toward Money Dozier and made a slight head movement. Money Dozier turned to his right, whispering something to Marty Adams. Nodding, Adams turned to Engler. “Jackie. Go to the men’s room or something. Call Luca’s office. Tell him the Judge is going to try to suck him in here. Tell him to make himself scarce. If he’s not there, tell his secretary to find him and tell him that.”
    â€œSo, if there is any method to this madness, and I emphasize that it would be madness,” the Judge continued, “if there is any purposefulness in this situation with Mr. Leppard, it shall not do anyone any good, as you shall still not be without counsel, Mr. Hardie.”
    â€œI want Mr. Leppard to speak for me.”
    â€œMr. Luca was your lawyer in this case before Mr. Leppard, and Mr. Luca is fully familiar with the proceedings up to the point of trial, all of the evidence, all of the …” The Judge stopped talking, glancing at Engler who stood, fumbled with something on the table, then turned to walk toward the back of the courtroom. “Where are you going, Mr. Engler? This court is still in session.”
    â€œYour Honor,” Engler stammered, “I’m looking for a document. I had it in my hand a few minutes ago. And now I can’t seem to find it.”
    â€œYou think this momentous document is out in the hallway, Mr. Engler?”
    â€œIt may be, Your Honor. May I?”
    â€œYou may not! Marshal, go into the hallway and see if you see anything that resembles the Magna Carta, the Declaration of Independence, some momentous document.”
    A Marshal nodded and walked toward the corridor.
    The jurors were like spectators at a tennis match, their necks and eyes turning from side to