Judgment

58

Kent,” she said. Juliana and Kent Yarnell exchanged quick, social kisses. “Good to see you,” she said. “Been a while.”

“Juliana,” he said. He had never called her “Jules.” Always “Juliana,” and he liked to overenunciate each syllable, annoyingly.

They were both pretending to like each other. He disliked her, she knew, and the feeling was mutual.

“Library okay?” he said.

“Sure.” That meant a drink, not dinner. Good.

They found a nook in a far corner of the library, dimly lit. The attorney general sat on a green leather couch, and Juliana took the chair next to it.

Kent Yarnell had a high forehead, a ridiculously large dome, and small, deep-set eyes. He wore frameless glasses. His eyes, she’d always thought, were beady. He was dressed in a well-cut gray suit with a red tie. But with his long limbs and his slender wrists and his liquid movements, he’d always reminded her of a spider.

They chatted awkwardly for a few minutes. He mentioned someone they both knew from the US Attorney’s office. But Juliana didn’t really remember much about the woman. She said, “That was a long time ago. My memory’s hazy.”

“I know what you mean,” he said with a smile.

The server came, and they both ordered drinks. She ordered a chardonnay, and he ordered a Diet Pepsi.

“Well, I imagine your feminist sisters are proud of you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sexual harassment,” he said. He flicked two fingers of each hand to make air quotes. He shook his head. “What a racket. You start handing out major awards, you know what’s gonna happen, don’t you? People start filing major grievances. And when one employee starts, another one joins in, and pretty soon you get a riot effect. It’s like looting. Once the storefront gets smashed, everybody wants to grab a stereo for themselves.”

“You aren’t really going to debate the Wheelz case with me, are you?”

“It’s the criminalization of, what did we used to call it? Nookie?”

“Kent, come on. We’re not going there.”

He crossed his legs and tented his hands atop his knee. “The reason I wanted to see you, Juliana, was to give you some advice. Consider it advice from a friend.”

She nodded, awaiting whatever came next.

“I think we both know what we’re talking about,” he said.

“I’m not sure I do, Kent.”

They looked each other in the eyes. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

“In the course of investigating a possible homicide,” he said, “the Boston Police found evidence indicating that you may have had a relationship with the deceased. An attorney who argued a case before you.”

“Are we talking about a pair of sunglasses, for God’s sake?”

He shrugged. His eyes were dead. “My investigator now has the deceased’s mobile phone records. Wouldn’t it be interesting if they found a call between you and Mr., uh, Sanchez.”

Her stomach did a twist. Did she ever call the guy on his cell phone? She didn’t think so.

Then she remembered — a call she’d received from him. You are not to recuse yourself. That would be a serious mistake.

Yes, he’d called her, to threaten her. That call established a link between them.

“And what on earth does this have to do with investigating a homicide?” she said. She thought about how she could explain the call from Matías. She could say the guy called her, and she told him this was an ex parte communication, and she got off the phone right away. That was all.

Maybe.

“Juliana, let’s put our cards on the table. If we can establish that you had an intimate relationship with Matías Sanchez, an attorney who appeared before you, and you did not disclose this or recuse yourself... well.” He shrugged broadly. “I’m going to recommend that the matter be brought before the CJC.”

The Commission on Judicial Conduct. Which investigated judges. “Oh, for God’s sake.”

“And I’m going to recommend your removal from the bench. I’m sorry, but I don’t see a choice.”

She felt the blood rush to her face. She felt both trapped and angry. “I think what you’re talking about,” she said, “is that a pair of sunglasses with my fingerprints on them was found in the deceased lawyer’s hotel room. Fine. How my sunglasses ended up in his room, I have no idea. It’s peculiar. Did he find them? Did he take them? Who knows. But how that indicates that I had a relationship with him — is that the best you have? Seriously? That’s pathetic. Kent, don’t embarrass yourself.”

There was no longer any need to pretend they liked each other.

“Trooper Markowski is one of our best. If there’s something to be found, he’ll find it. He always does.”

“Hold on, is he investigating a crime of some sort?”

“As you well know, you’re a person of interest.”

“Kent, we know each other. I know you. If your Trooper Markowski had found something in the deceased’s phone records, you’d have told me already.”

“Trooper Markowski has requested the phone logs. He’ll get them tomorrow.”

“Then you should have waited before asking me out for a drink.”

“I’m offering you an opportunity. To resign from the bench with dignity, on your own terms.”

“On my own terms,” she said, shaking her head.

“You can avoid all the ugliness, all the publicity, by choosing to resign from the bench.” He spoke quietly, somberly. “Oh, and the disbarment that will inevitably follow. I think a resignation, for personal reasons, would be better for all concerned.”

They locked eyes.

He said, “Am I making myself clear?”

“You are,” she said.

“And I mean resign now, tomorrow morning, and not at the end of the year.”

“I understand.”

“I’m sure we can work out something that doesn’t damage your reputation.” He was not negotiating. He believed he had her trapped, that he was in control of the situation.

But he was bluffing. He was also going on instinct. He’d guessed that something had happened between her and Matías Sanchez.

But he doesn’t know for sure.

Tomorrow, the phone records would come in, and Trooper Markowski would let his boss know a call had indeed been made between Judge Juliana Brody and the deceased.

And the attorney general would file notice with the CJC. Would circumstantial evidence be enough to get her thrown off the bench?

Maybe.

“Kent,” she said, “the funniest thing. Your kind ‘advice to a friend’ is reawakening my own fond memories of working for you. I’m remembering all sorts of things.”

He cocked his head.

“I think we both know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“The Ray Marshak case.”

“I remember it well too, Juliana.”

“And since you brought up the topic, we found your phone number in Marshak’s phone records. Quite a few times. When you know you shouldn’t have been in contact with him. But I didn’t see any reason to tell you. Nor anyone else, of course — at the time. Anyway.”

He blinked, then pursed his lips. She could see the realization dawn in his eyes, beady though they were. The fear that contorted his face. “Are you threatening me?” he said.

“I don’t know. Do you feel threatened?”

In a very low voice he called her a very bad word.

She gave him a large, gladiatorial smile, as if she was enjoying this. “So I am making myself clear, then?”

The waitress arrived with their drinks. Juliana lifted hers from the tray and raised it in mock salute. “I’m going to take mine to go, Kent. So glad we had this little chat.”