A dead judge,
a missing briefcase....
While observing a trial that is going badly for a young colleague, Adam Larsen realizes that
there is something terribly wrong with the judge's one-sided rulings. What's worse, his mere
presence in the courtroom has inexplicably infuriated the judge. Ordered from the courtroom,
Larsen is on his way out of the courthouse when he hears a shot. The judge, alone in his chambers,
is dead.
A cryptic message, entreating Larsen to solve a murder that led to the judge's death, is
discovered, but with no other information, Larsen doesn't even know where to start investigating.
Nor does he want to. But when the judge's clerk is murdered, Larsen's his curiosity begins to
simmer. And when he learns that the battered briefcase he'd seen in the judge's chambers has
disappeared, his interest begins to boil.
He quickly finds himself drawn into a dangerous world of bribery and corruption, where
there is nobody he dares to trust. Undaunted, Larsen turns to his trusted staff--and, of course, his
favorite private investigator, Jana Deacon--to aid his search for the answers.
But when he thinks he has figured it all out, there are still surprises lurking in the shadows.
I heard a commotion behind us. Judge Gumauer's clerk had come charging wildly down the
corridor like she was being chased by an enraged rhinoceros. She nearly collided with one of the
deputies. "He's been shot!"
The sheriff said, "Who's been shot?"
"The Judge. Judge Gumauer. I think he's dead."
I told Ann, "Tell them to stay put. If they haven't seen a shooter, they're probably okay. Three
armed sheriffs are on their way."
Ann relayed the message and ended the call. "What do we do?"
"What the judge ordered us to do. Get the hell out of here." I guided her by the elbow. "Let's
go."
We continued walking, slow enough so as not to appear guilty of anything, since I knew we
were being recorded by security cameras, but we certainly didn't dawdle. As we reached the exit, a
loud siren began to wail. We passed the abandoned security equipment and exited the courthouse.
As we descended the concrete steps, Ann turned to me, staring as though she had just stumbled
upon some profound universal truth.
"Maurice is right. You do attract trouble like some kind of cosmic disaster magnet."
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