"So should I," retorted Esme Squalor, "and I say they're guilty as sin." Her long, silver fingernails rested on the shoulder of Carmelita Spats, who was glaring at the siblings as Mr. Poe pushed them past.
"I think they're guiltier than that!" said one of the hotel bellboys.
"I think they're even guiltier than you think they are!" cried another.
"I think they look like nice kids!" said someone the children did not recognize.
"I think they look like vicious criminals!" said another person.
"I think they look like noble volunteers!" said another.
"I think they look like treacherous villains!" "I think they look like concierges!" "One of them looks a bit like my mother!" Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! The lobby seemed to shake as the clock struck three in the morning. By now, Mr. Poe had escorted the Baudelaires to a far corner of the lobby, where either Frank or Ernest was waiting next to the door marked 121 with a grim expression on his face as the last Wrong! echoed in the enormous room.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The children turned to see Justice Strauss, who was standing on one of the wooden benches so she could be seen and clapping her hands for attention.
"Please settle down! The matter of the Baudelaires' guilt or innocence is not for you to decide."
"That doesn't seem fair," remarked a man in pajamas with a pattern of salmon swimming upstream. "After all, they woke us up in the middle of the night."
"The case is a matter for the High Court," Justice Strauss said. "The authorities have been notified, and the other judges of the court are on their way. We will be able to begin the trial in a matter of hours."
"I thought the trial was on Thursday," said a woman in a nightgown emblazoned with dancing clowns.
"Showing up early is one of the signs of a noble person," Justice Strauss said. "Once the other noble judges have arrived, we will decide on this matter-and other equally important matters-once and for all."
There was a murmur of discussion in the crowd. "I suppose that's all right," grumbled someone.
"All right?" Geraldine Julienne said. "It's wonderful! I can see the headline now: 'HIGH COURT FINDS BAUDELAIRES GUILTY!'"
"No one is guilty until the trial is over," Justice Strauss said, and for the first time the judge gazed down at the children and gave them a gentle smile. It was a small mercy, that smile, and the frightened Baudelaires smiled back. Justice Strauss stepped off the bench and walked through the murmuring crowd, followed by Jerome Squalor.
"Don't worry, children," Jerome said. "It looks like you won't have to wait until tomorrow for justice to be served."
"I hope so," Violet said.
"I thought judges weren't allowed to reach verdicts on people they know," Klaus said.
"Normally that's true," Justice Strauss said. "The law should be impartial and fair. But I think I can be fair where Count Olaf is concerned."
"Besides," Jerome said, "there are two other judges on the High Court. Justice Strauss's opinion is not the only one that matters."
"I trust my fellow judges," Justice Strauss said. "I've known them for years, and they've always been concerned whenever I've reported on your case. While we wait for them to arrive, however, I've asked the managers of the hotel to put you in Room 121, to keep you away from this angry crowd."
Without a word, Frank or Ernest unlocked the door and revealed the small, bare closet where Violet had found the harpoon gun. "We'll be locked up?" Klaus said nervously.
"Just to keep you safe," Justice Strauss said, "until the trial begins."
"Yes!" cried a voice the children would never forget. The crowd parted to reveal Count Olaf, who walked toward the Baudelaires with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "Lock them up!" he said. "We can't have treacherous people running around the hotel! There are noble, decent people here."
"Really?" asked Colette.
"Ha!" Count Olaf said. "I mean, of course! The High Court will decide who's noble and who's wicked. In the meantime, the orphans should be locked in a closet."
"Hear hear!" Kevin said, raising one arm and then the other in an ambidextrous salute.
"They're not the only ones," Justice Strauss said sternly. "You, sir, have also been accused of a great deal of treachery, and the High Court is very interested in your case as well. You will be locked in Room 165 until the trial begins."
The man who was not Frank but Ernest, or vice versa, stepped sternly out of the crowd and took Olaf's arm.
"Fair enough," said Olaf. "I'm happy to wait for the verdict of the High Court. Ha!"
The three siblings looked at one another, and then around the lobby, where the crowd was looking fiercely back at them. They did not want to be locked in a small room, no matter what the reason, and they could not understand why the idea of the High Court reaching a verdict on Count Olaf made him laugh. However, they knew that arguing with the crowd would be bootless, a word which here means "likely to get the siblings in even more trouble," and so without another word, the three Baudelaires stepped inside the closet. Jerome and Justice Strauss gave them a little wave, and Mr. Poe gave them a little cough, and either Frank or Ernest stepped forward to shut the door. At the sight of the manager, the children suddenly thought not of Dewey, but of the family left behind, just as Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were all left behind after that first day at Briny Beach, and the dreadful news they received there.
"We're sorry," Sunny said, and the manager looked down at the youngest Baudelaire and blinked. Perhaps he was Frank, and thought the Baudelaires had done something wicked, or perhaps he was Ernest, and thought the Baudelaires had done something noble, but in either case the manager looked surprised that the children were sorry. For a moment, he paused, and gave them a tiny nod, but then he shut the door and the Baudelaire children were alone. The door of Room 121 was surprisingly thick, and although the light of the lobby shone clearly through the gap at the bottom of the door, the noise of the crowd was nothing but a faint buzzing, like a swarm of bees or the workings of a machine. The orphans sank to the floor, exhausted from their busy day and their terrible, terrible night. They took off their shoes and leaned against one another in the cramped surroundings, trying to find a comfortable position and listening to the buzz of the arguing crowd in the lobby.
"What will happen to us?" Violet asked.
"I don't know," Klaus said.
"Perhaps we should have run," Violet said, "like you suggested, Klaus."
"Perhaps at a trial," the middle Baudelaire said, "the villains at last will be brought to justice."
"Olaf," Sunny asked, "or us?"
What Sunny asked, of course, was whether Count Olaf was the villain who would be brought to justice, or if it would be the three Baudelaires, but her siblings had no answer for her. Instead, the eldest Baudelaire leaned down and kissed the top of her sister's head, and Klaus leaned up to kiss Violet's, and Sunny moved her head first to the right and then to the left, to kiss both of them. If you had been in the lobby of the Hotel Denouement, you would not have heard anything from behind the thick door of Room 121, as the Baudelaires ended their conversation with a great, shuddering sigh, and nestled close to one another in the small space. You would have had to be on the other side of the door, leaning against the children yourself, to hear the tiny, quiet sounds as the Baudelaire orphans cried themselves to sleep, unable to answer Sunny's question.
CHAPTER
An old expression, used even before the schism, says that people should not see the creation of laws or sausages. This makes sense, as the creation of sausages involves taking various parts of different animals and shaping them until they are presentable at breakfast, and the creation of laws involves taking various parts of different ideas and shaping them until they are presentable at breakfast, and most people prefer to spend their breakfasts eating food and reading the newspaper without being exposed to creation of any sort whatsoever.