Read Antonelli - 03 - The Judgment for Free Online Page B

it? Seven o’clock?’
    “He was reluctant to answer, but finally relented. ‘It wasn’t up to me,’ he explained as he emptied out the contents of a manila envelope. I picked up my keys and then my wallet. ‘Judge Jeffries signed the order.’ He hesitated, a question in his eyes. ‘You’re not really going to go to court like that, are you?’
    “I had not shaved since early Friday morning. I had not brushed my teeth or even washed my face and hands. My hair felt like it was alive, infested with a million microscopic organisms on a feeding frenzy. I itched everywhere. My suit was in ruins, rumpled, wrinkled, soiled with sweat and God knows what else. My black wing tip shoes were dirty and scuffed. One of them was dis-colored with a stain left when one of those drunks sitting next to me had urinated down his leg.
    “The more he looked at me, the more sympathetic the deputy became. He offered to help. ‘I’ve got some things in the back. A razor, an extra toothbrush.’
    ” ‘Thanks,’ I said, as I turned to go, ‘but I think I owe it to the judge to let him see me the way I am.’ “
     

Three
    _______
    Adrink in his hand, Harper Bryce let his eye wander across the bar and grill. A few more people had come in while we talked, a blast of late winter wind announcing each new arrival, and it was now almost half full. It was one of those places that stay in business for years, seldom empty but never crowded. The dishes had been cleared from the table, and the coffee had gone cold, but no one felt any pressure to leave. We could sit there all day if we wanted, talking among ourselves, and no one would think twice about it.
    Pushing up the sleeve of his shirt just far enough to steal a glance at his watch, Jonah Micronitis started to say something, another reminder that it was getting late and there were things they had to do. Time was money, and money, for Jonah Micronitis, had always been everything. Asa Bartram ignored him. With a slight movement of his head, and an even less discernible movement of his hand, he stopped him from making a sound.
    “Did you really go to court, Calvin’s court, like that?” Asa asked, encouraging me to go on. His arms, folded together, rested on the table. A faint smile flickered at the corners of his broad mouth. There was a look of nostalgia in his aging eyes, as if he had been reminded of some indiscretion of his own, some act of defiance which he had grown too prudent to commit, but on which he still looked back with pride.
    “I did not even stop at the men’s room to comb my hair and wash my face. I was furious. I don’t think I had ever felt quite so righteous in my life.”
    Asa knew exactly what I meant. “Having nothing left to lose is a kind of liberation, isn’t it?”
    “You would have thought I was leading a slave rebellion. Three days in that place, and in some ways I had become more demented than any of the poor souls I found there. I could have killed Jeffries and gone to my execution convinced that I was entirely justified for what I had done. I didn’t kill him, of course, but when he took his place on the bench I tried to murder him with a stare. I need not have bothered; he damn near died when he saw what I looked like.
    “I was sitting at the counsel table, pretending there was nothing out of the ordinary, one leg crossed over the other, my left arm trailing over the back of my chair. With my thumb and forefinger, I stroked my chin like some elegantly dressed fop, bored to tears with everyone around him. Mrs. Larkin, sitting in the chair next to me, did not know what to make of it. The deputy district attorney, who had been reading his file, lifted his head, like an animal which has just caught a scent. Jurors shifted uneasily in their chairs, nudging each other to make certain they were all seeing the same thing.
    ” ‘Mr. Antonelli!’ Jeffries shouted, his face red with rage.
    “I had already turned to the same juror I had been talking to on