“I’m so glad you find this amusing, Mr. Brenner,” I answered, trying not to laugh myself. I wasn’t succeeding very well either. Both of us were on the verge of cracking up. This was just so freaking ridiculous.
“I’m sorry, counselor, but the office policy these days is that if the family strenuously objects, we don’t offer a deal anymore, even in Night Court on Halloween.” He gave me a boyish look that probably melted plenty of panties. “I really am sorry.” I had a feeling that Mr. Brenner was a ladies’ man like my Braden had been back in the day. I think the DA’s office recruited them right out of law school. They were like their not-so-secret weapon.
“Well, I hope you enjoy our defense, Mr. Brenner. It should be very entertaining.” He nodded and covered his mouth with his fist. As he turned around to leave, he nearly ran into one of the Spirit Hunters, who was coming up behind him.
“Hello, there. I’m Ernie, and this is ….”
“Burt!” I broke in gleefully as his partner approached. Three other guys in matching T-shirts brought up the rear. I noticed for the first time that their shirts had a picture of a ghost and the letters S.H.I.T. on the front.
“Spirit Hunters Investigative Team,” Ernie, who had noticed me noticing, explained. I nodded silently and Mr. Brenner actually bit down on his knuckle at that point. At least somebody was having fun.
“Did you have something to tell us?” I prompted.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, we felt that we should let someone know, we’re picking up some really weird stuff.”
“You should be fine as long you’ve had your shots,” Mr. Brenner replied.
“No, on our equipment!” his partner, Burt said, looking excited. “We’re picking up definite signs of an infestation.”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure they sprayed,” Mr. Brenner added.
“He means we think there may be a malevolent entity here,” one of the guys in the background piped up, “but we’re not really sure it’s intelligent.”
“I thought Mr. Drake left,” I said to Mr. Brenner,
“No, he’s out in the hall having a pow wow with Delores in the Technicolor Dream Coat,” Mr. Brenner answered.
“Not him. He’s just a minor inhuman,” Burt offered.
“Those were my thoughts exactly,” I said with a smile.
“This is major spirit activity. The epicenter seems to be right in that spot right there,” Ernie said, turning around and pointing to precisely the place that Mr. Marley had been seated before he had vanished. Thunder clapped in background and lightening lit up the sky at that exact moment. Okay, not really. But if this had been a movie, that’s what would have happened.
“That spot, really? That’s where Mr. Marley was sitting,” I said to Mr. Brenner.
“Who was sitting there?” he asked.
“My husband Braden’s client, Mr. Marley. You know, the guy who supposedly died in 1905?”
“I don’t have a Mr. Marley. Edna must have him on her caseload,” he answered, referring to Edna Manson, the other prosecutor, who was working the room.
“Edna must have who on her caseload?” said a hardened-looking, Assistant District Attorney who happened to be walking by at the moment. She pushed a lock of jet-black hair out of her face, revealing a jagged scar and a charming sneer.
“Mr. Marley? He’s charged with trespassing and prowling at night?”
“Oh right. That’s just an administrative case, though. It was never closed, and we just have to figure out what to put in the file.”
“Why did you make him show up for that?”
“Make him show up? What are you talking about? The guy died in 1905, right here in this courtroom as a matter of fact.” Her mouth curled into a nasty grin, and I noticed that she had rather pointy teeth.
“From what, old age?” I asked, looking at my watch. There were going to be lots of warm drinks at Jessica’s Halloween party.
“He had a heart attack just as they called his case,” she answered in her gravely, three-pack-a-day lilt. “That’s why it was never resolved.” She cracked her knuckles.
“What are you talking about? He was sitting right over there,” I said, inching back. Edna was a little creepy.
“In the epicenter!” Ernie looked like he might wet his pants.
“We might be talking vortex,” Burt replied. He and Ernie gazed at each other like they had just struck gold. They darted off to go play with their lights in the spot Mr. Marley had been occupying with the entire S.H.I.T. following close behind. Well, at least I was fairly sure they could get a sample of some body fluid over there.
“It must be a mistake,” Edna said dismissively. She was such cynic, but she was a regular in that courtroom. Her spirit had probably died in there a few decades ago too.
“The date must be wrong,” I suggested. “Maybe he had a heart attack recently, but he survived. That’s probably what happened.”
“I work this courtroom all the time. I would have remembered that.” Edna paused and seemed to give it some thought. “Probably.” She didn’t look like she was so sure.
“Well, I’m telling you, there was a Mr. Marley, who must have known the facts of the case, because Braden discussed it with him,” I insisted. I had just been kidding around about him being a ghost. This night was getting weirder by the minute.
“I don’t know what to tell ya.” Edna shrugged and ambled on. Judge Epstein’s clerk called Commonwealth vs. Bates. Mr. Brenner and I glanced at each other resignedly and headed up to the bench. When we got there, I turned to see if Mr. Bates was coming, but he had been standing silently right behind me. I yelped and jumped about a foot in the air, putting a hand over my racing heart and blowing out a ragged breath. I turned around and saw Judge Epstein’s glare and jumped again. I had to get out of there or I was going to develop a nervous condition.
“What are the charges Mr. Brenner?” the judge growled.
“Abuse of a corpse, Your Honor.”
“Charming. What, no littering charge you can tack on?”
“I’m afraid not, Your Honor,” Mr. Brenner answered.
“Please tell me that you’ve reached an agreement on this,” she said, dropping a couple of Alka Seltzer into a glass of water and taking a big belt of it before it had even finished plop-plopping and fizz-fizzing.
“I’m afraid not, Your Honor,” I echoed, throwing a baleful look at Mr. Brenner to let her know whose fault that was.
“Your Honor, the victim’s relatives …” he began.
“The victim?!” Judge Epstein screeched. “The victim is a corpse!”
“Nevertheless, Your Honor …” Mr. Brenner looked like he might be in pain.
“Oh …” she grumbled something unintelligible. “Get them up here!” Mr. Brenner sighed and headed off to find the late Mr. Peterman’s relatives. I turned around and saw that Braden was watching. He gave me a supportive smile. I smiled back and reminded myself that he was going to make my body an epicenter of pleasure later.
A couple of minutes went by, and Mr. Brenner returned with a guy who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else and a woman who had such an angry, pinched look on her face; she made Judge Epstein look like Betty White. She was clutching a purse in front of her body like a shield, and I wanted to tell her it wouldn’t work in here. This whole place was like Kryptonite. She looked up at Riff Raff and a vein started pulsing on her forehead. Yikes. She made Edna look like Betty White.
“Your Honor,” Mr. Brenner said with another heavy sigh, “on my left is Mr. Irv Peterman, brother of the deceased. And this, is Mrs. Gladys Peterman, widow of Sid Peterman, who Mr. Bates took for a stroll.” Suddenly, I felt sorry for Mr. Brenner, and the late Mr. Sid Peterman.
“I want that sicko locked up!” Gladys shouted, waving her handbag at my client.
“Off the record!” Judge Epstein yelled back, glaring at the stenographer who immediately stopped typing and looked up at her in shock like a deer in headlights. She must have been a sub. “Mr. Brenner, what are the facts of the case?”