"I know what the word 'contempt' means," snarled a voice the children could not recognize.
"I defined the word for the benefit of the Baudelaires," Justice Strauss said, and the children nodded their thanks in the direction of the judge's voice, although all three siblings had known the meaning of "contempt" since a night long ago when Uncle Monty had taken them to the movies. "Baudelaires, take three steps to your right. Three more. One more. There! You've reached your bench. Please sit down."
The Baudelaires sat down on one of the lobby's wooden benches and listened to the footsteps of the manager as he left them alone and stumbled back into the settling crowd. Finally, it sounded as if everyone had found a seat of some kind or another, and with another few bangs of the gavel and calls for attention, the crowd quieted down and Justice Strauss began the trial.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," she said, her voice coming from right in front of the Baudelaires, "and anyone else who happens to be in attendance. It has come to the attention of the High Court that certain wicked deeds have gone unpunished, and that this wickedness is continuing at an alarming rate. We planned to hold a trial on Thursday, but after the death of Mr. Denouement it is clear we should proceed earlier, in the interests of justice and nobility. We will hear what each witness has to say and determine once and for all who is responsible. The guilty parties will be turned over to the authorities, who are waiting outside, making sure that no one will try to escape while the trial is in progress."
"And speaking of guilty parties," Count Olaf added, "when the trial is over, everyone is invited to a very in cocktail party, hosted by me! Wealthy women are particularly welcome!"
"I'm hosting it," snarled the voice of Esme Squalor, "and fashionable men will be given a free gift."
"All gifts are free," said either Frank or Ernest.
"You're out of order," Justice Strauss said sternly, banging her gavel. "We are discussing social justice, not social engagements. Now then, will the accused parties please stand and state their names and occupations for the record?"
The Baudelaires stood up hesitantly.
"You too, Count Olaf," Justice Strauss said firmly. The wooden bench crackled beside the Baudelaires, and they realized the notorious villain had also been sitting on the bench, and was now standing beside them.
"Name?" the judge asked.
"Count Olaf," Count Olaf replied.
"Occupation?"
"Impresario," he said, using a fancy word for someone who puts on theatrical spectacles.
"And are you innocent or guilty?" asked Justice Strauss.
The children thought they could hear Olaf's filthy teeth slide against his lips as he smiled. "I'm unspeakably innocent," he said, and murmuring spread through the crowd like a ripple on the surface of a pond.
"You may be seated," Justice Strauss said, banging her gavel. "Children, you are next. Please state your names."
"Violet Baudelaire," said Violet Baudelaire.
"Klaus Baudelaire," said Klaus Baudelaire.
"Sunny Baudelaire," said Sunny Baudelaire.
The children heard the scratching of a pen, and realized that the judge was writing down everything that was being said. "Occupations?"
The Baudelaires did not know how to answer this question. The word "occupation," as I'm sure you know, usually refers to a job, but the Baudelaires' employment was sporadic, a word which here means "consisting of a great number of occupations, held for a short time and under very unusual circumstances." The word can also refer to how one spends one's time, but the siblings hardly liked to think of all the dreadful things that had occupied them recently. Lastly, the word "occupation" can refer to the state one is in, such as being a woman's husband, or a child's guardian, but the youngsters were not certain how such a term could apply to the bewildering history of their lives. The Baudelaires thought and thought, and finally each gave their answer as they saw fit.
"Volunteer," Violet said.
"Concierge," Klaus said.
"Child," Sunny said.
"I object!" Olaf said beside them. "Their proper occupation is orphan, or inheritor of a large fortune!"
"Your objection is noted," Justice Strausssaid firmly. "Now then, Baudelaires, are you guilty or innocent?"
Once again, the Baudelaires hesitated before answering. Justice Strauss had not asked the children precisely what they were innocent or guilty of, and the expectant hush of the lobby did not make them want to ask the judge to clarify her question. In general, of course, the Baudelaire children believed themselves to be innocent, although they were certainly guilty, as we all are, of certain deeds that are anything but noble. But the Baudelaires were not standing in general. They were standing next to Count Olaf. It was Klaus who found the words to compare the siblings' innocence and guilt with the innocence and guilt of a man who said he was unspeakably innocent, and after a pause the middle Baudelaire answered the judge's question.
"We're comparatively innocent," he said, and a ripple went through the crowd again. The children heard the scratching of Justice Strauss's pen again, and the sound of Geraldine Julienne's enthusiastic voice.
"I can see the headlines now!" she cried. "'everybody is innocent!' Wait until the readers of The Daily Punctilio see that!"
"Nobody is innocent," Justice Strauss said, banging her gavel. "At least, not yet. Now then, all those in the courtroom who have evidence they would like to submit to the court, please approach the judges and do so."
The room erupted into pandemonium, a word which here means "a crowd of blindfolded people attempting to give evidence to three judges." The Baudelaires sat on the bench and heard people stumbling over one another as they all tried to submit their research to the High Court.
"I submit these newspaper articles!" announced the voice of Geraldine Julienne.
"I submit these employment records!" announced Sir.
"I submit these environmental studies!" announced Charles.
"I submit these grade books!" announced Mr. Remora.
"I submit these blueprints of banks!" announced Mrs. Bass.
"I submit these administrative records!" announced Vice Principal Nero.
"I submit this paperwork!" announced Hal.
"I submit these financial records!" announced Mr. Poe.
"I submit these rule books!" announced Mr. Lesko.
"I submit these constitutions!" announced Mrs. Morrow.
"I submit these carnival posters!" announced Hugo.
"I submit these anatomical drawings!" announced Colette.
"I submit these books," announced Kevin, "with both my left and right hands!"
"I submit these ruby-encrusted blank pages!" announced Esme Squalor.
"I submit this book about how wonderful
I am!" announced Carmelita Spats.
"I submit this commonplace book!" announced either Frank or Ernest.
"So do I!" announced either Ernest or Frank.
"I submit my mother!"
This last voice was the first in a parade of voices the Baudelaires could not recognize. It seemed that everyone in the lobby had something to submit to the High Court, and the Baudelaires felt as if they were in the middle of an avalanche of observations, research, and other evidence, some of which sounded exculpatory-a word which here means "likely to prove that the Baudelaires were innocent"- and some of which sounded damning, a word which made the children shudder just to think of it.
"I submit these photographs!"
"I submit these hospital records!"
"I submit these magazine articles!"