The Judgment Read Online Free PDF Page A

lawyer, I could find myself strongly attracted.”
    “Young guy?”
    “Are you sure he’s your client?”
    “I haven’t talked to him yet. I know nothing about him.”
    “I remember his age exactly. It’s part of the interrogation form we fill out. Father Chuck is fifty-eight but he looks fifteen years younger. He’s about six feet. I would guess about two hundred pounds, sort of a rugged, outdoors type.”
    “So you were mad for his chaste body?”
    She shook her head. “Not the body. But I wouldn’t trust me around that smile of his. The man is all teeth. When he smiles it’s like seeing the lights on Broadway.”
    “So I have a rival, do I?”
    “If that will keep you on your toes, think what you will. By the way, I checked him out, just to be sure I wasn’t dazzled by the smile. I interviewed some of the townspeople and parishioners. No one had a bad word to say about him.”
    “Do I hear a slight note of discord in your tone? A reservation perhaps about this paragon of virtue?”
    “Part of the standard interrogation is to ask if a suspect has ever had psychiatric treatment.”
    “Did he?”
    “He said he has been hospitalized twice, both times for depression, but nothing in the past ten years.” She laughed. “He says he is now your standard garden-variety neurotic, nothing more. He makes a joke of it.”
    “He doesn’t sound too outdoorsy to me.”
    “Don’t be jealous.”
    “Did you find out anything else about him?”
    “Not a whole lot, really. His parishioners apparently think very highly of him. He’s a decent guy who obviously cares about people. But I’m told that sometimes he’s somewhat at odds with the Church authorities.”
    “A liberal?”
    “Actually, the opposite. He’d prefer to say Mass in Latin—the old way, as he calls it. Vatican II didn’t please him much, I guess. He says he misses the pomp and circumstance and the rituals of the Latin Mass. It sounded to me like he was much more of a conservative, really, rather than a liberal.”
    “But you liked him?”
    “Absolutely. You will, too. You know how it is when you meet some people for the first time? He’s just hard not to like.”
    We had finished the meal. My side of the table was adisaster of spilled tomato sauce. I was anxious to escape the scene of this particular crime.
    “I have a splendid idea,” I said.
    “What’s that?”
    “We return to my place. We can play bad priest and naughty nun.”
    “Which one will I be?”
    “Sue, you really ought to think of getting another job. You’re beginning to sound a lot like your customers.”
    The arrest and arraignment of Deputy Chief Mark Conroy turned out to be a cross between a Roman circus and a military rally. We walked from police headquarters to the court between files of silent uniformed policemen who stood at attention, each face a mask of grim outrage. In South America it would have marked the beginning of a coup. But here in Detroit, nothing followed the silent demonstration of support for Conroy.
    The circus began at the press conference following the quick arraignment in court.
    There were enough television lights to illuminate a night baseball game. The reporters had come out in platoons. Whether because of the early-morning hour or not, they seemed especially-unpleasant.
    I wouldn’t allow Conroy to respond to any of the questions, most of which were insulting. He stood there, at the position of parade rest, his stern expression fixed as if sculpted.
    Most of the questions didn’t merit an answer. They were shouted in unison, so I could pick and choose those I wanted to respond to. Then I made a quick statement that the chief was innocent, just a good cop doing his duty, nothing more, nothing less, and that all this would be shown at trial.
    Then it was over. It was like the relief after getting a tooth pulled. I took a few minutes to instruct Conroy on how he should conduct himself, then I left the court building,got my car, and headed back