“Turn the TV back on. I’d like to see the news, too.”

“It’s only The View. It’s not time yet.”

“Okay, listen up.” Cate leaned against the desk. “Obviously, a terrible thing has happened, with Art Simone being killed. The police think Marz did it, and you may have some feelings about that. You in particular, Emily, since it was your case.”

Emily bit her lip but said nothing. Evidently, big Goths don’t cry.

“You have to understand one thing. The decision to grant the motion was mine, and no one else’s. You guys do legal research and write memos, but it’s my decision and my responsibility, you hear? I was right on the law and I had to make the decision I did.” Cate would believe that in five, maybe ten, years. “What matters is that the police are concerned about our security. They suspect that Marz may come back to chambers to hurt us.”

Sam’s eyes flared. “That’s not cool.”

“No, Sam. Not cool.” Cate wondered about this kid sometimes. Both clerks had flawless academic records and had served on their law reviews, but their personalities were a different question. She’d been confirmed at such an odd time of year, she’d missed the regular batch of clerk aps. “I want you two to stay together when you leave the building. All comings and goings, stay together.”

“But we stagger our lunches,” Emily said.

“Don’t. Go together. And don’t buzz anybody in without clearing it with Val. The media’s an issue, too. A reporter tried to get to us by buzzing into Meriden’s chambers.”

“Retard,” Sam said.

“I don’t like that word.” Cate was thinking of Warren. He’d been called that on the street, more than once.

“Loser, then.”

Cate let it go. “Marz drives a navy Subaru, so keep an eye out for that, too. I have the license plate number and-”

“Judge, it’s time for the news.” Sam jumped up and switched on the old Sony Trinitron. “We were on ET and The Insider last night, and that was before the murder.”

“Excellent,” Cate said dryly, but the news was beginning, with its bright blue and red graphics. The banner came on and behind the handsome anchorman floated a large photo of a grinning Art Simone. Cate stifled a wave of sadness and regret.

The anchorman said, “In our top story, police are still searching for Richard Marz, a former assistant district attorney being sought in connection with the shooting murder of Hollywood television producer Arthur…”

Cate watched the TV screen as they flashed photos of Marz, barely able to listen. She shouldn’t have said anything from the bench. She’d given Marz the validation he needed to kill. The TV screen changed to file footage of the male lead from Attorneys@Law, with a voice-over about a great loss and a tragic crime and how the show would go on. Then the picture changed again.

Cate froze when she recognized the photo on the screen.

It’s Elvis, from last night.

The anchorman was saying, “And in southwest Philadelphia, a tragic accident claims a man’s life. James Partridge was killed when he fell from a balcony at a motel here.”

“D’oh, I hate when that happens,” Sam joked, and behind him, Cate stood riveted.

The anchorman said, “Police say that Partridge, a frequent guest of the motel, may have lost his footing in the rain and was inebriated at the time of the fall. And in other news, an overturned tractor-trailer…”

Emily leaned over and switched off the TV. “Once again, the proverbial tractor-trailer.”

Sam laughed. “It gets ’em every time. Dang things can’t stay upright.”

But Cate was already backing out of the room. “I have work to do, guys,” she said, shaken, and retreated to her office.

She closed the door, hustled to her desk, and called Gina’s cell phone. She told her about the man’s death, hunched over the phone, confused and stricken. Her head began to pound, and she rubbed her forehead. When she finished, she felt vaguely nauseated. “Maybe I should go to the cops,” she said.

“Are you nuts? Why?”

“He probably fell down the stairs, trying to come after me.”

“Did you see that?”

“No, he was on the balcony when I left.” Cate squeezed her eyes shut but couldn’t remember for sure. “At least I thought he was-”

“So what, anyway? So what?”

“The man is dead, Geen. I was the last person to see him alive.”

“It wasn’t a murder, it was an accident. He fell down trying to rape you. You don’t owe him anything!” Gina could barely contain herself. “You wanna go to the cops? Tell them you pick up strange guys, in bars?”

Cate flushed, mortified. What was she thinking? For a judge, she had no judgment at all.

“You’d be risking your reputation, for nothing.”

Cate put her face in her hands, rattled to her foundation. What would she go to the police with? Even she knew she wasn’t making sense. She was screwing up so much lately, and now people were dying.

“Cate, you’re just panicking. Between the stuff with Simone and this, you’re just a mess.”

“Thanks.”

“Take a deep breath.”

“I left him alive.”

“Of course you did, and then he fell off the balcony because he was a falling-down-drunk, no-good-pig rapist.”

“God, this is so awful. He’s dead.”

“Yes, and you’re not,” Gina said, with finality. “Look, I gotta go, the pediatrician just came in. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll call you later.”

“Thanks.” Cate hung up, so preoccupied she barely heard a knock at the door. “Yes?”

Val stuck her head inside, frowning with concern. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Marz will have to get through me to get to you.”

“Aw, don’t even think that.” Cate willed herself to get it together. Nobody knew about the man last night and nobody ever would. She waved Val inside. “Sherman and the cops think Marz might-”

“I got the court-mail. I’ll keep an eye on the clerks, too.”

“Thanks, and you be careful. Marz may know what you look like.”

“I can take that little white boy.” Val lifted an attitudinal eyebrow.

“Not if he has a gun you can’t.”

“Pssht.” Val waved her off. “By the way, those flowers came for you while you were with Sherman.” She gestured at the conference table, where a huge bouquet of long-stemmed roses sprayed from a clear glass vase.

“Jeez.” Graham. Cate felt her chest tighten.

Val chuckled. “How’d you miss those? There’s two dozen there, I counted.”

Cate got up, crossed to the flowers, and slid the white envelope from its clear plastic trident and opened it. Judge, I have a major crush on you, but I promise to take it slower. Like-not love, Graham.

“And Graham Liss called again this morning,” Val said. “It’s none of my business, but between the phone calls and the two dozen roses, you might give the man a little attention. It’s about time you had a date. Now, did you remember you have oral argument at two o’clock?”

“Of course not,” Cate answered, turning with card in hand. “In what case?”

“Tourneau v. General Insurance. I ordered you a tuna fish salad for lunch.”

“Thanks, great idea.” Cate had meant to study the briefs and the bench memo last night. Now she’d have to go on the bench cold. “Where’s Emily? It’s her case, isn’t it?”

Val whispered, “She says you saw Simone’s picture on TV and got very upset.”

Great. “Don’t be silly. Open the door, please, Val. And cover your ears.” Val complied, and Cate called out, “Emily! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

And at the appointed hour, Cate was berobed and back in court, presiding atop the dais. From her first moment in the courtroom, she flashed on a freeze-frame of the very last time she’d sat here. Marz was launching himself at Simone. She saw it over and over until she walled off the thought and concentrated on the proceeding at hand, which involved a question of conflicts of laws. Before today, she’d thought of conflicts as an abstract area of the law, but now she knew that no area of the law was truly abstract. She’d seen the intersection of the law and human beings, and it ended in a head-on collision.