The Hanging Judge by Michael Ponsor Read Free Book Online

sarcastic remarks and sipping my cocoa. I have to get out on the ice and chase the puck.”
    “Ooh, I like this!” Dixwell said eagerly.
    “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Norcross said with a sinking fear that he’d offended Claire. “That was a cheap shot.”
    “Two hundred,” Novotny said. “More than two hundred men on death row exonerated by DNA evidence. I mean, Jesus! And now I’m hearing that our brave U.S. attorney is hot to bring a capital case out here. I bet you’ll love that. It’s … it’s …”
    Brittany broke in. “It’s thickening.” This comment completely threw Norcross, until he remembered that the young woman had an adorable, and perhaps genuine, lisp. Had she overheard his duck routine and been offended?
    Norcross looked up at the ceiling, addressing the chandelier. “Oh Lord, do I really want to get into this?” He took another long swallow of wine and returned to Claire. “Maybe I’ll just say what I think for once, and hope to be forgiven. Is that okay?”
    “I’m all ears,” she said, then added more quietly, “Well, actually, I’m other things, too.”
    Norcross noticed again how pleasing he found the shape of Claire’s slender fingertips, resting on the white tablecloth. What a treat it would be just to touch one of them.
    “Right,” Novotny said. “You were going to tell us what you think.”
    Norcross picked up the crystal salt and pepper shakers.
    “Okay. Here goes. Meet Mr. Salt and Ms. Pepper.” He held them out, one in each hand, and tapped them together.
    “Careful,” Dixwell said nervously. “Those are Waterford.”
    “Ms. Pepper says she saw Mr. Salt stab her boyfriend. There was a lot of confusion, but she’s positive it was him. Mr. Salt says he was home at the time, and, uh …” He nodded at the table. “Sugar Bowl and Creamer say they were with him, watching Perry Mason reruns.”
    “May I be the gravy boat?” Anne asked.
    “Perfect. You, Ms. Gravy Boat, say that Mr. Salt boasted to you that he did stab the guy and even showed you the knife before he chucked it into the Connecticut River. But you’re facing drug charges, I’m afraid.”
    “Oh, wicked me!” Anne said, lifting her glass with a pleased smile.
    “So you have a big motive to stroke the prosecutor. It’s total pandemonium.” He waggled the shakers at each other to simulate a dispute. “ Grrrr! And the community demands a response.” Norcross placed the shakers in front of Novotny and pointed at them. “So, Gerry, who’s telling the truth? Ms. Pepper or Mr. Salt?”
    “Obviously, I have no idea,” Novotny said a little truculently.
    “Ta-da! Give that man a paper hat. The point is, we don’t know which condiment is right. Sometimes people commit murder, and sometimes they get falsely accused of committing murder. And we don’t know who’s telling the truth.” He raised his voice toward its courtroom volume and leaned toward Novotny. “If we did, we wouldn’t need law. We’d only need religion or something.”
    Norcross caught Brittany staring at him as though he were a species of monkey whose gibbering she was trying to memorize. He was overdoing it.
    “Sorry.” He broke off and continued more softly, “Our legal system, from where I sit, is just a process for deciding who blew the stoplight, or who killed Cock Robin, in a manner that is as fair and honest as we can possibly make it. It’s very human, and it’s tricky, so we do make mistakes. The really bad errors are actually pretty rare, considering, but it’s not surprising they happen.”
    “Well, it seems I’m not being clear,” Novotny said with maddening deliberateness. “For one thing, if we agree it’s a flawed system, then we shouldn’t be executing folks, right? But it’s not flawed. It’s deliberately designed to support power, and it is sheer arrogance …”
    “Oh, arrogance—bah!” Norcross said, waving dismissively.
    “Bah yourself,” Novotny shot back. “Someone needs to stop