Herman had left his jewelry case in Washington, so he had been forced to use paper brads from some scripts he'd found at Lipman, Castle amp; Stein to hold his frayed cuffs together. The little metal tacks glittered dully.

"Okay, first witness, Herman," Judge King ordered.

"The plaintiffs call Dr. Deborah DeVere."

The door opened and Deborah moved into the courtroom. She looked smart and confident as she took the stand and was sworn in.

"Dr. DeVere," Herman began. "Would you please cite your qualifications for testimony here today?"

"I graduated from UCLA with honors in undergraduate studies, then completed my master's at the School of Entomology at the University of Virginia. I graduated in the top ten percent of my class, then went on to take my doctorate there and, again, graduated in the top ten percent. I've won several awards in research from Tulane University, where I did some postdoctoral work on arachnid reproduction and earned several grants, among them a Fulbright and a Holenbeck. I am currently the head of the Entomology Department at the University of Texas."

"So, you would be considered an expert in the field of butterflies, with a wide-ranging knowledge of their breeding and feeding habits?"

"Objection. Calls for speculation."

"I'll withdraw it. On that basis, Dr. DeVere, would you consider yourself an expert on the feeding and reproduction habits of the monarch butterfly?"

"I've done extensive work on the disappearance of the monarch butterfly due to its ingestion of TG corn."

"Excuse me, Dr. DeVere," Judge King asked sweetly from the bench. "Since you are a leading expert in the plight of the monarch butterfly, I have one question."

"Of course. Go ahead, Your Honor," Herman demurred.

"Have you ever heard of the Danaus Plexippus Foundation?"

"I beg your pardon?" Dr. DeVere shot a worried look at Herman, who just barely managed to keep his growing panic under control.

Judge King said, "I've just been assured by counsel in a sworn affidavit this morning that the Danaus Plexippus Foundation, his new client, is a world-leading organization, devoted to the preservation of the monarch butterfly. As a renowned academic expert on the monarch, I was wondering if you'd ever heard of this world-famous foundation?"

"Uh… of the ahh… Danaus Plexippus Foundation?"

"That's the one," Melissa said from the bench, a smile now tickling the edge of her mouth. "Counsel said that it's the 'foremost foundation.' I said, 'In the worldT And he said, 'In the whole wide world.' I figure a leading doctor on monarch butterfly feeding and reproduction would certainly know about the leading foundation chartered with the protection of same. How about it? Ever heard of these guys?"

"No, Your Honor."

"Wo?" Melissa shifted, her pregnancy signaling more discomfort, but a smile twitched happily at the corners of her mean, ruler-straight little mouth. "This is very strange. How could this be? The leading doctor on monarchs has never heard of the leading preservation society. Herman, are you as shocked as I am?"

Herman didn't answer, didn't know what to say. He'd been busted.

Judge King went on. "I'd hate to think that an attorney trying a case before me would stretch the truth-would lie\ Please tell me that's not what's going on here, Herman?"

"Well, Your Honor, technically, what I said was…"

"Herman, I want a straight answer. Who and what is the Danaus Plexippus Foundation? And I don't need a snow job. Your motion to amend calls them a research group. Yes or no?"

"Danaus plexippus is Latin for 'butterfly,' Your Honor."

"Literae scriptae manet is Latin for 'never put b.s. in writing.' " She held up his motion as proof.

"Your Honor…"

"Yesssss, Herrrrmannn?" drawing it out dangerously.

Herman couldn't finish. His mind was a blank. Suddenly he felt another arrhythmia coming on-the same sluggishness and lightheadedness.

"Are you on the board of this thing, Herman? Is this a sham foundation?"

Herman stood before her, head down, face reddening, heart racing.

"I can go to the Corporations Commissioner in Michigan and get the filing with a list of its officers. Don't put me through that."

"Your Honor, I have the right, as a U.S. citizen with access to the federal court system, to file a suit on behalf of a corporation I happen to control," he protested.

"That's a fact. But you don't have the right to file a false affidavit in my court and lie to me about it. I'm holding you in contempt and I'm throwing this whole mess out. I won't hear a case where one of the principal attorneys before me is filing bogus paper. Furthermore, Herman, I think you and I have come to the end of the road. I can't tell you how angry your courtroom behavior makes me. I have been wracking my brain, trying to think of a way to demonstrate my displeasure to you."

"Your Honor…"

"Shut up!" she ordered, and now he feared the worst.

"I'm going to apply Rule Eleven of the U.S. Code of Civil Procedure." Rule Eleven gave a sitting judge the right to discipline lawyers for filing frivolous, groundless, or harassing lawsuits.

"Your Honor, this isn't a Rule Eleven situation. This lawsuit has legal merit. I would like to meet with you in chambers to discuss this," Herman said.

"I'm sure you would, but that isn't going to happen, Herman, at least not today. So you'll get the point, the fine I'm going to attach to this incident is in the amount of one million dollars."

Herman heard a sharp intake of breath from Susan and even from a few of the defense attorneys seated behind him.

"What?" Now Herman's heart was beating so fast it was tickling the inside of his throat. He could feel his arteries expanding and contracting with each rapid heartbeat.

"A million dollars, Your Honor? I've never heard of a Rule Eleven penalty exceeding ten or twelve thousand dollars. You can't be…"

"You're damn right I'm serious!" she interrupted.

He glanced back at Susan, who had a defeated look on her face. She found his eyes, but shook her head sadly. They didn't have anything close to a million dollars.

"I'm going to arrange for a meeting in my chambers tomorrow with an order to show cause why such a sanction should not be imposed. My clerk will get in touch to set the time. Do not be late, Mr. Strockmire." It was the first time she had used his surname. Then she cleared her throat and started to rise, but hesitated. "One more thing," she said, looking down at him like Moses from the mountaintop. "I've been made aware of your spat with the California Bar. I'm going to write them a letter detailing this incident, to be included in that file. Case dismissed. Witness is excused."

Melissa King banged her gavel, got up, and waddled off the platform. All eyes followed her as she made her way through the back door to her chambers, slamming it shut as she exited.

Herman was left in the center of the courtroom, his tired body sagging. He began to feel woozy. The opposing attorneys had stopped slapping each other on the back and were now packing up their briefcases. The old men and women in Vulture's Row shook their heads and muttered. They'd been cheated out of the full day's entertainment. "What a gyp," one of them said.

Herman felt Susan's hand on his arm. "Come on, Dad," she said. "Let's go."

He moved with her, feeling shame and anger at himself. He picked up the glass box containing the three monarchs and carried it out of the courtroom. Susan and Dr. DeVere followed in his wake. They watched him from the steps of the courthouse as he took the glass terrarium across the street into the park and set the three monarchs free.

"What happened?" Dr. DeVere asked Susan.

"Dad took a chance and he lost."