Despite targeting an easygoing judge named Ronald Marquette, getting a warrant to search Phil Duke’s premises proved problematic. Nothing close to evidence on Duke for anything, let alone multiple homicide.
“Judge—”
“He gardens and shops? That’s prosecutable, I’ll have you arrest my wife.”
“The woman living there—”
“From what you just told me, there’s nothing on her beyond being sexy. Why’re you coming to me with thin gruel? This isn’t like you.”
“It’s been a tough one, Judge.”
“If this is the best you come up with, it’ll stay tough,” said Marquette. “Sorry, they’re taking a closer look at every scrap of paper we sign. I am not going to be one of those fools gets reversed for obvious error. Get me more and come back.”
“Judge, I’m willing to submit rape as my primary charge. Suspect Deandra Demarest was clearly I.D.’d by the victim, as was Suspect Bakstrom. It was a gang rape, extremely brutal, and the victim was a hundred percent on the identification.”
“Give me the details. Quickly, I’ve got a case in an hour.”
Milo began relating Vicki Vasquez’s story.
“Why didn’t you tell me this in the first place? Woman raping another woman like that? Even the lefties will find it repellent, try finding a friendly jury. She’ll get put away for a long time, the murder doesn’t work out, be happy with that.”
“I’m happy, Judge.”
“No, you’re not. You never are. Fax it within fifteen or I’ll be unavailable until lunch recess. During which I’ll be eating and not taking calls.”