There was nothing at all on her desk except the felt blotter. The blotter was there because she thought desks ought to have blotters. She could not have said why.
She put her briefcase and her bag on the desk and sat down. She looked at the dark screen of her computer. It sat on a little “workstation” shelf to her left. She suddenly felt enormously stupid about having come in this early at all.
“Your Honor?” Celia said. She looked like she was hovering. She was like a hummingbird.
“The first thing this morning is the Maldovanian case?”
Celia looked immediately uncomfortable. “It’s actually the second thing,” she said. “The docket says eleven o’clock, but you know how that goes. The scheduler did try to give you the greatest possible leeway, but the first thing up is that She’bor Washington girl, and you know—”
“Oh, Lord,” Martha said.
“Yes, well, the scheduler tried to give you enough time.”
“It’s not going to take time,” Martha said. “It’s going to take keeping my temper. We should all thank God on our knees that Cathy Laste is finally retired and off this court. God only knows what she thought she was doing. You can’t go easy on these kids. Half of them are sociopaths and half of them will end up that way if you don’t lock them up the first time. The Maldovanian kid is coming in at eleven, you said?”
“From lockup, yes. The way they do that, he’ll probably be in early.”
“I know the way they do that,” Martha said. “Is that priest going to come in?”
“Father Tibor Kasparian, yes,” Celia said. “I think—”
“I had a check run on his immigration status,” Martha said. “The kid’s illegal, there’s no reason why the priest shouldn’t be illegal. He isn’t, though. Came here years ago as a political refugee. Whatever that means. I notified Immigration about the kid, but you can bet your ass they won’t do a thing about it. They never do.”
“Yes,” Celia said. “Of course, he is only fifteen, and—”
“And he’s got friends in the city government,” Martha said. “I know. Our esteemed mayor. Our esteemed governor. And they’re not even on the same side. People don’t understand reality anymore. They don’t face up to it. You can’t just let these things go.”
“Yes,” Celia said again.
The woman looked stressed. Martha could tell. Martha wanted to throw something.
“Listen,” she said. “Get me all the stuff about She’bor Washington. I want to get through that as fast as I can. Maybe if I get through that, I can bring the Maldovanian kid in early and Father Tibor Kasparian won’t even be at the courthouse yet. God, how I want to get through with that before he ever gets here.”
“Yes,” Celia said again. “There is one other thing. The funeral service. For Stella Kolchak. It starts at eleven, and all the assistants will be off the floor. I think the best estimate for return is going to be about twelve thirty, because most of us will be going out to the cemetery. Of course, I won’t be going to the luncheon, you did say you need me here—”
“I do need you here,” Martha said. “I can’t believe I’m still dealing with Stella Kolchak. The woman was such a twit. And about as useful an assistant as a cheese Danish. That’s Cathy Laste for you. Nothing done right.”
“I do promise to be back as soon as I can,” Celia said. She looked like she was going to say something else, make some protest, but Martha knew she wouldn’t do it. She knew better by now.
Martha swung her chair until it faced the computer station and started to boot up.
3
Petrak Maldovanian was not having the worst day of his life. Not even close. He wasn’t even having the worst day of his life in America, which had occurred exactly a week ago. He was only having a kind of day he had never had before, and it was setting him off balance.
The day had actually started in a way he liked, with his American Government: Histories and Processes class at Philadelphia Community College. There were a lot of things wrong with Philadelphia Community College that people would tell you about if you gave them half a chance. It was situated in one of the worst parts of the city. That did not make the campus unsafe—the campus was well patrolled. It did make getting to the campus, or leaving it, something of an adventure. Petrak didn’t have a car, and he learned his first semester never to schedule a class or an appointment too late in the day. His American Government class started at eight in the morning and ended twenty minutes after nine.