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replied, "We have, Your Honor." She handed the bailiff a piece of paper. The bailiff carried it to the judge, who read it and then set it to one side. "The defendant will please rise. Madam Foreperson, in the case of the state of Alaska versus Louis Deem on the count of murder in the first degree, how do you find?"
     
    The foreperson swallowed hard and lowered her eyes. "We find the defendant not guilty."
     
    There was an immediate and vocal stir in the courtroom, which Judge Singh quelled with the immediate rap of her gavel. "There will be order in my court," she said in an austere voice, and such was the force of her character that no one doubted her. It didn't stop Mary Waterbury's mother from weeping softly into Mary Waterbury's father's shoulder, nor did it stop the rumble of discontent from assorted Waterbury family and friends, which included, Kate saw when the crowd shifted, Auntie Vi, who was sitting with her arms around Mary Waterbury's two surviving sisters, Alice, eighteen, and Martha, sixteen. Children naturally gravitated to Auntie Vi; she was like the Pied Piper. Billy Mike sat on the other side of Mary's father. Billy and Auntie Vi wore similar expressions, in which could be read anger but no surprise.
     
    The district attorney rose to his feet. "Your Honor, the state asks that the jury be polled," he said, which was the least that he could do.
     
    One by one the jury said not guilty. None of them spoke much above a whisper. Few of them were capable of meeting the district attorney's eye, or anyone else's, for that matter. When the twelfth gave his verdict, Louis Deem turned to Howie Katelnikof, sitting directly behind him, and slapped him a high five. Howie, Louis's other roommate and sworn vassal, grinned widely and clasped his hands together over his head in a victory shake. Kate noticed several members of the jury, their attention drawn by the sound, avert their eyes from the spectacle. Mr. and Mrs. Waterbury wept on.
     
    "Members of the jury, I thank you for your service," Judge Singh said. "You are dismissed."
     
    There was a distinct sense that the words Go and sin no more were hovering on the tip of the judge's tongue, but she managed to restrain herself. She didn't bother to hide her contempt when she looked at Louis Deem. "Mr. Deem, you are free to go."
     
    "Thank you, Your Honor," Rickard said, and was wise enough not to extend any of the usual fulsome pleasantries he was known for upon victory. Her Honor was definitely not in the mood.
     
    And Louis Deem? Louis Deem turned, found Kate in the milling crowd, and smiled.
     
    A nd what the fuck was all that business with the fucking truck tires? Jesus Christ, it was O.J. and the fucking glove all over again!"
     
    Kenny Hazen had the district attorney backed into a corner of the courthouse's first-floor conference room.
     
    "What the hell are they teaching you morons in law school these days, to on purpose ask the fucking questions you don't know the fucking answers to?"
     
    The district attorney, who Kate saw now was very slight, very short, and very young, looked very frightened, too. A cowering sinner.
     
    By comparison, the Ahtna police chief looked like the wrath of God made manifest. "I told you, you fucking moron, I told you and I told you that manslaughter was a lock, that murder two was a stretch, and to give the fucking jurors an easy out. Deem has fucking terrorized people in this fucking Park for years, I told you—"
     
    The door opened. "We know you told him, Chief," Judge Singh's voice said. "Pretty much everyone in the building heard you tell him." She put a hand on Kenny's arm, thin, long-fingered, and elegant. Under the robe she'd been wearing an embroidered Russian jacket, black palazzo pants, and step-in black shoes with thick rubber soles. She looked like she'd just waltzed in from a hard day at Nordstrom.
     
    The fury in Chief Hazen's tank-sized body diminished but did not entirely dissipate. The little ADA