Panda’s explanation differed. “You know why I like Drew Boyster?” He would squint when he said that, studying the novice judge for some sign of inattention. “He thinks I am smart, is why. He does not think I am stupid. Judge Boyster doesn’t come in here, like lots of these guys do — and, Christ, you come down to it, some of the broads we get are worse. He doesn’t just barge in here and start throwing weight around, acting like he owns the place and everybody in it. Drew Boyster... well, I had one case he was involved in, before he became a judge. And that was all I needed, right? To see what kind of guy he is. This guy, he may be a lawyer and he made a lot of money before he went on the bench, although from what I heard, I guess his first wife made a big fat dent in that. But he has always had some class. Drew Boyster has got class. I have been here fifteen years, fudge Boyster is the best I never ate a meal with him, or had a drink with him. It’s not like we are buddies, you know? Or anything like that. It’s just that, all the years I’ve been here, he’s the best I ever saw.”
He made that speech, with variations, to so many judges, that when Drew Boyster dropped dead at the age of fifty-nine, victim of a massive stroke that killed him instantly, Panda’s name was mentioned by everyone who saw Judge Neelon on the morning afterward. Henry Neelon was in charge of making the arrangements for the speakers who would say a few words at Boyster’s memorial, and as little as he liked the man, Henry Neelon saw the logic of including Panda Feeney.
“Look,” he said, “I realize this may be hard for you. I know how you felt about Drew — everybody did.”
Panda shook his head and looked down, as though he did not trust his voice to perform reliably.
“The thing of it is,” Judge Neelon said to Panda, “you’ve been to enough of these things so you know what they are like. They are deadly, Panda — they are boring and they’re dull. We get a couple lawyers who won recent cases in his court — we do not ask folks who lost. The Chief Justice declares on the record: ‘He was not a pederast.” If he has one kid who can talk, we let the kid stand up — and then we all watch carefully to see if he breaks down, or displays any evidence that he’s been using harmful drugs. For some reason, we don’t ask surviving spouses to address us — it’s probably because we’re all afraid of what our own might say, if they got full attention, and we weren’t there to reply. Then finally, one friend of his, if the dead guy had a friend, takes four or five long minutes to say nobody else knew him.
“You see what I mean, Panda?” Judge Neelon said pleadingly. “The last guy who gets up at those things is the only one who’s right — none of the other speakers is a friend of the departed, someone who just knew him and enjoyed his company. No one that just liked him, unless he’s another lawyer, ever gets a chance to speak. And we thought, since you did know Drew, and really did like him, maybe you would say a few words and do everyone a favor.”
Panda looked up and he shook his head once more. “I couldn’t do it, Your Honor,” he said, and cracked his voice. “I would not know what to say. I’m not used to making speeches, standing up in public like that.”
“Panda,” Neelon said, “it could be very short. You could say... that case you had, the one that impressed you so much, you never forgot it? You could talk about that case, how Drew showed so much class. Look, you know Drew Boyster’s history. You went back a ways with him. His family, they’re not, you know, extremely happy with him, even now that he is dead. His kids, from everything I hear, they sided with the wife. You’d really help us out a lot if you saw your way clear to do it. Good Lord, Panda, all these years, you have drummed it into us. Just tell everybody once more, what a great guy Drew was.”
“Your Honor,” Panda said, coughing deeply as he started, “I have got to tell you — I can’t talk about that case.”
“Of course you can,” Judge Neelon said. “It’s on the public record. If it’s the details that escape you, we can pull the files. We’ll take care of that for you. That part will be easy.”
“Judge,” Panda said, “it wasn’t that. It was not a case in court. Well, there was a case in court, that Judge Boyster was involved in. But the case I talked about... I can’t talk about that.”
“I don’t follow you,” the Judge said. He was starting to look grim.
“It was Chivas Regal,” Panda said with difficulty. “A case of Chivas Regal, all right? That was what I meant.”
“Scotch whiskey?” Neelon said. “A case of booze, you mean?”
Panda nodded. “Uh-huh,” he said. “That was what it was.”
“And this was back when Drew, when Drew was a lawyer?”
Panda nodded once again. “Yeah. Before he was a judge.”
“Panda,” Neelon said severely, “this is serious. Drew is dead now. It can’t hurt him, not where he is now. But you’re still escorting juries, and you still have access to them. If you influenced some verdict, back when Drew was practicing, and he gave you a case of scotch... well, I don’t have to tell you just how serious this is. What was it you did for Drew? Tamper with a jury, or do something dumb like that?”
Panda looked indignant. “Judge,” he said, “I resent that. In all the years I’ve been here, I have never told a jury how they should vote in a case.”
“Uh-huh,” Neelon said, “well, you are the first one, then. But you’ve raised the suspicion now, and I am forced to deal with that. If you don’t tell me the truth, and tell me the truth right now, I’ll have to investigate and see what you did for Drew. And until I am satisfied, you will be suspended. Without pay, I might add, until this is all cleared up. Now which will it be, Panda? This is your decision now. You can tell me what went on, or you can leave this building right now and wait to hear from the D.A.”
Panda looked more sorrowful than he had looked before. He had to clear his throat again. “This won’t go any further?”
“It won’t if there is nothing wrong,” Judge Neelon said grimly. “If I think there is something wrong, it will go further, Panda. No promises apart from that. You understand me, Panda? And I will be the judge of whether you will be reported.”
Panda sighed heavily. “All right,” he said, “you got me. But there is nothing wrong with this, with what I did for Drew.” Judge Neelon did not comment on that.
“Over twenny years ago, I got hurt in the ring.”
“I know that,” Neelon said. “Get on with you and Drew.”
“I’m coming to that,” Panda said. “Just give me a minute, will you? The doctors told me: ‘Panda,’ they said, ‘this is it for grappling. You get hit like that again, you’ll go out in a wheelchair. You are still a young man and your heart is pretty strong. You get crippled up for life, it is going to be a long one and you will have trouble working.’
“That scared the hell right out of me,” Panda told Judge Neelon. “In wrestling there’s no insurance. I did not have money. I was always undercard, a couple hundred bucks. And I didn’t have any trade, you know. Something I could do. But I am scared, so what I do, I take what comes along. I get into security. I become a guard.
“The first job that I had,” he said, “was in the Coast Apartments. This was before it was condo. This was 1963. And since I am new and all, I am put on nights. So I do not see who goes out — I just see who goes in.