Sherman continued, “Sadly, it’s not unprecedented that we judges are threatened for the decisions we make. We can’t hide, nor should we. We have a job to do, and our courtroom calendar is public. It can be accessed by any member of the public, by logging on the directory downstairs or the court website. I myself have had my life threatened several times.”

“So have I,” Meriden chimed in.

“But Marz isn’t a rash, impulsive criminal,” Cate said, trying to process the information. “He’s a lawyer. In fact, a prosecutor. He may go after Simone, but he wouldn’t come after me. He doesn’t have that kind of rage. He’s an intellectual. A computer geek at heart.”

Nesbitt frowned. “With all due respect, Your Honor, you wouldn’t think that if you saw the videotape. The man fired without a second thought. I’ve seen gangbangers with more conscience.”

“If it’s him on the tape.”

“I believe it is, and again, I didn’t think he was such a geek when I saw him attack Simone.”

“You were there that day, in court?”

“Yes, as a spectator. Frank Russo is my former partner.”

“I thought you looked familiar.” Cate wondered fleetingly how Russo felt about her, after yesterday. “Have you talked to Detective Russo about this?”

“Yes.”

“Did Marz tell Russo he was going to kill Simone, or say anything like that? Or that he was going to kill me, for that matter?”

Nesbitt stiffened. “It’s not procedure to discuss an ongoing investigation, and this isn’t public knowledge, but Marz didn’t talk to Russo yesterday. Marz disappeared right after your verdict.”

“Entry of judgment,” Sherman corrected. “Only juries issue verdicts.”

“Sorry. Entry of judgment.” Nesbitt nodded. “Now. Judge Fante, did you notice anyone following you last night after work? Or anything unusual at all?”

Yikes. “No one following me, I don’t think.” Caught off guard, Cate didn’t know how much to tell them. “I had a date after work, and we went to dinner, then to my date’s house.” She noticed that the room got quieter, everybody interested in the life of the resident Single Girl. She swallowed hard. “Then I went home.”

“How did you get home?”

“Drove.”

“You didn’t notice anyone following your car, did you?”

“No.”

Nesbitt consulted his pad. “Marz drives a dark blue Subaru, late model. I’ll write down his license number for you.” He flipped the page, jotted down the information, and ripped it off, handing it to her. “Keep a look out, tonight. If I may ask, do you live alone?”

“Yes. In Society Hill.”

“Did you notice anything unusual around your house?”

“No.”

Nesbitt made a note. “Tonight, scan your street before you enter your house and make sure that nothing looks suspicious. Check and see if the parked cars look familiar. Do you have a security system?”

“A burglar alarm.”

“Use it. Do you own a gun?”

“No.” Cate laughed, then noticed Chief Judge Sherman and Meriden looking surprised. “Chief, do you have a gun?”

“Of course.”

Meriden said, “I collect guns.”

“I collect Blahniks,” Cate said, but it wasn’t a girl crowd.

“Your Honor, you might want to consider purchasing a weapon for your protection and taking lessons, at a firing range. We don’t have the personnel to protect you, but we’ve alerted the marshal service and they’re going to put extra marshals on overtime, at least until we apprehend Marz.” Nesbitt gestured beside him. “Judge Meriden and you are the only two judges on the eighth floor, correct?”

“Yes.”

Meriden said, “Cate and I share a common hallway, and visitors are buzzed in to get past the locked doors. There’s a security camera, so each chambers can see whom they’re buzzing in.”

“Why are we discussing this?” Cate asked, confused.

Meriden answered, “We had a reporter buzz in this morning, posing as a lawyer in a products case. Luckily, my clerk stopped him.”

“That’s a different issue from Marz, isn’t it?” Cate asked, and Nesbitt nodded.

“Again, bottom line, you’ll both have to be on alert. Look out for each other. Be careful out there.”

Judge Sherman lit up. “That’s what they used to say on Hill Street Blues! Tell me, Detective, was that show accurate, in your opinion?”

“Barney Miller was my favorite.” Nesbitt broke into a smile. “Ask my partner here. He’s the expert. He wanted to be a technical adviser on Cold Case. He tells everybody, ‘I coulda been a consultant! I coulda been a contender!’”

Detective Roots came alive. “Well, I could have, and I almost was!”

Nesbitt chuckled. “The difference between a consultant and almost is a house down in Margate, a boat, and two million bucks.”

“All right, enough.” Roots rose, flushing, and brushed down his slacks. “Before we go, let’s walk around the eighth floor. See how it’s laid out.”

“I’ll take you there, detectives,” Meriden offered, beating Cate to the punch.

For now. But she wasn’t going to let it lie.

After their tour, Cate walked back to the chambers with Meriden, falling into step down the hallway. “What’s your problem with me?” she asked, when she couldn’t keep her own counsel a moment longer. “Is it because of Edge Electronics? That securities case, so long ago? Because if it is, let’s have it out, here and now.”

Meriden blinked, impassive. “Edge is in the past. Win some, lose some. No big deal. I don’t have a problem with you.”

“Oh, come on. You never miss a chance to undermine me. The next time you have something to say about me, how about you say it to me?”

“You’re sure?” Meriden’s dark eyes flickered with challenge.

“Shoot.”

“Okay, if that’s the way you want it, Cate. Here goes. You never should have said what you did in open court. Your comments were emotional and inappropriate for a judge.”

“I’m a human being, Jonathan. I don’t check my conscience at the courtroom door.”

“Your conscience isn’t the law.” Meriden’s mouth flattened to a rigid line. “You lack judicial demeanor in everything you do. The way you look, the way you act, even the way you dress. We wear black robes for a reason, to equalize us. But you insist on standing out.”

Whoa. “There is no one right way to act, and it’s none of your business how I dress off the bench.”

“It is my business, because it’s my court. You never should have ruled from the bench. You give new meaning to the term ‘judicial activism.’ Judges aren’t ‘knights errant,’ or haven’t you read your Cardozo?”

“I know the quote, and I don’t need you to lecture me on the proper role of a federal judge.”

“Beg to differ, Cate.” Meriden leaned so close she could smell Listerine. “A prudent judge would have issued a written opinion later. You made a mistake that endangers us all.”

Ouch. “Oh, go straight to hell.” Cate turned on her heel and stalked down the hall to her chambers. She couldn’t let him see how she felt. And worst of all, was he right? Should she have ruled from the bench? Sherman said it was okay, but was it? She’d been locked in that question loop all night.

Cate opened the door to her chambers, where Val was busy on the phone. She waved hello, walked by Val’s desk, and went back to the law clerks’ office. Just outside their door, she could hear them laughing and a TV playing. She popped her head in, with an automatic smile.

Emily jumped up and flicked off the TV. “We were just waiting for the news at noon, Judge.” She was sitting at her desk chair facing the tiny TV stuck on the bookshelf among the case files. She shared the small office with co-clerk Sam Herman, a slight and serious young man. He had a feathery brown haircut, pale skin, and a long, bony nose that divided brown eyes set too close together. He wore a gray sweater and khakis, since they weren’t in court today.