“This is my case!” snapped Sam.
Angie smiled sweetly at Rose Marie. “We’re going to bury Rosemary in a deep pit and hold her incommunicado. Let’s see what you can run from there.”
The only indication of Van Dee’s anger was a slight narrowing of her eyes. “You should be careful, dear. In this Locus, you might get hurt after speaking to me like that.”
“Is that a threat?” Angie snapped.
“Oh, dear girl, I never make threats.” Van Dee smiled, but her eyes remained algid. “I do, however, make promises from time to time.”
“And there’s another charge to add to the complaint, Angie,” said Sam. “Assault on a Law Enforcement Officer.”
“I’ll get that added later today.” Angie smiled and winked at Van Dee.
“If I were you, I’d get right to it,” said Van Dee. She glowered into Angie’s eyes. “Otherwise, you might run out of time to do anything.”
“Rose Marie,” said Leibman. “Stop talking.”
“Listen to him, Van Dee,” said Sam. “For once, he’s giving you good legal advice.” He turned and opened the door for Angie, then followed her outside.
4
The next morning, Sam cut through Thomas Paine Park from Lafayette Street, the collar of his coat up, his shoulders hunched against the bitter winter cold. He wore a fedora pulled down to his ears as proof against the barbarous wind. Fat, lazy snowflakes drifted down to perch on the brim of his hat and dust his shoulders. He walked with his head down, eyes scanning the paved path for telltale signs of a broken hip in the form of almost-impossible-to-see ice lurking beneath the slush. As such, he didn’t see Angie until her wordless shout brought his head snapping up.
“Get away from me!” Angie shouted again.
Sam lurched into a fast shuffle, still leery of hidden ice, and raised his hand, ready to cast a spell. “You there!” he shouted at a pack of six burly men blocking her path.
Angie whipped her head around and spotted him, relief clear in her dark eyes. One of the men leaned closer to her and said something that the wind ripped away before Sam could make sense of it, and she recoiled, backing away from the group of men.
As Sam got closer, he realized that each of the men either wore a hoody and dark glasses or had watch caps jammed down over their ears and had their collars turned up. Zombies, he thought. A damn zombie horde! His gaze darted to the left and the right, hoping to find a cop, but finding no one.
He dropped his briefcase into the snow beside the path and stopped moving forward. Closing his eyes, he concentrated a moment, then chanted a tempestas maleficium, calling down a bolt of lightning from the overcast sky and directing it into the zombie’s midst and hurling them aside like a toddler’s blocks.
Angie threw her hands up around her ears and ducked her face away from the blinding glow but kept moving to his side.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked, not taking his eyes off the zombies lying helter-skelter like fallen bowling pins on the snow surrounding the path.
“They didn’t hurt me.”
“Stay here.” Sam strode forward, cutting the figure of an angry father bent on disciplining his children. “I suppose Van Dee sent you thugs?” he demanded when he reached the zombies lying stunned on the ground. He kicked the nearest one in the leg. “Speak up!”
None of the zombies answered. They could do no more than groan and hold their heads.
“Take this message back to your masters. Come after Angie again, and there’ll be hell to pay. Understand me?” He watched them writhe for a moment, then shook his head once. “Bear in mind that I wrote my dissertation on the various forms of execration.” He bent and yanked hair from each of the zombies, shoving clumps into his pocket. “If anything happens to Angie, I won’t need to see you to ruin you.”
Sam turned and made his way back to Angie, retrieving his briefcase as he went. “Let’s go before they recover.”
“Thank you, Sam.”
He pursed his lips and looked at her askance. “Nothing you couldn’t have done for yourself.” He put his hand on her elbow and guided her down the path, leaving the zombies behind.
They crossed Centre Street and climbed the steps to the courthouse. At the top of the marble steps, Angie turned and looked back toward the park, eyes smoldering, but the zombies were already gone.
“Come, Angie,” said Sam in a quiet voice. “We’re due in court in five minutes.”
She nodded absently and allowed him to turn her and pull her inside.
5
Judge Le Fay took the bench with a flourish and waved her ghostly hand at the gavel. It levitated into the air and banged down. “I call this court to order,” she said. She glanced at Angie, but half a heartbeat later, her gaze strayed to McCoy’s face. “Ah, ha. We’re graced by the presence of the Executive Assistant Locus Magister this morning. To what do we owe the pleasure, Mr. McCoy?”
“Good morning, Your Honor. We’re here to arraign a significant thorn in the side of Locus law enforcement.”
“Ah ha. And that would be the Mama Zombie?”
“Indeed, Judge Le Fay.”
“Very well. I suppose you have a suggestion on bail.”
“Yes, Your Honor. The People request remand.”
“If it pleases the court, I’m Paul Leibman, Ms. Van Dee’s magister. I’d like to point out that my client has never been convicted of a crime, and as such, remand is out of the question.”
Le Fay arched an eyebrow at him. “Is it indeed? How strange that I find myself considering the request in solemnity.”
“What I mean to say, Your Honor, is that Ms. Van Dee has no record. She has no convictions.”
“That may be true, Your Honor,” said McCoy. “But that has no bearing on the matter. We’ve charged the defendant with two counts of murder for hire, twenty-seven counts of conspiracy to commit murder for hire, corruption of a law enforcement official—”
“What was the last bit?”
“Corruption of a law enforcement official, Your Honor. At present, we’ve only leveled one such charge, but it is my frank belief more charges are forthcoming.”
“Very well.”
“We will also bring charges of bribery, sale of body parts without a license, harvesting body parts without a license, assault against law enforcement officials, improper action, and as of Ms. Carmichael’s walk to the courthouse this morning, intimidation of a Locus Magister during commission of her sworn duty.”
Le Fay arched an eyebrow and glanced at Leibman. “These charges seem sufficient to warrant remand, Counselor. Don’t you agree?”
The defense magister leaned down to allow Van Dee to whisper in his ear. He straightened. “No, Your Honor, and Ms. Van Dee has the means to post bail.”
“Your Honor, Ms. Van Dee’s organization has already threatened the physical wellbeing of Ms. Carmichael here. If for no other reason than the safety of the court officers involved, I object strongly to any consideration of granting bail. The People also request that her isolation order be carried forward until the conclusion of her trial.”
Le Fay looked back and forth between McCoy and Leibman, then waved her hand at her gavel again. The gavel levitated and hovered. “Ms. Van Dee is remanded to the dungeon on Rikers Island and held over for trial. The order of isolation is continued.” She snapped her fingers, and the gavel banged down. “Next case!”
6
Sam rapped on Adam’s door frame with one knuckle, then stepped inside. The Locus Magister sat behind his impressive desk, reading the newspaper. He glanced over the top of it and treated Sam to a nod.
“We may have problems with this case, Adam.”
“Oh? Mob trials are always hard on witnesses. Losing them already?”
“No, it’s not that. This morning, six zombies confronted Angie outside the courthouse.”
“Is she hurt?”
“No, I came along in time to break it up, but…”
Adam folded his paper and got to his feet.
“Call Van Helsing.”
“Already done. I just wanted you to know.”
“Come with me,” said Adam, stepping past Sam into the hall. He walked to Angie’s cubicle and smiled down at her as if he were her grandfather. “Sam tells me you had a little excitement this morning.”
“No big deal. Sam set things right.” She put on a brave face, but her hands shook as she sipped her coffee.
“Yes, I’m sure he did. But a case like this… Things can get dicey. No one would look down on you if you requested a replacement.”
“No way.” She looked from Adam to Sam and back. “I want to be there when Rose Marie Van Dee gets her comeuppance. I want to look her in the eye and smile as the handcuffs rachet closed and the realization that she’ll never walk free again hits her.”
“Admirable,” said Adam. “But either Mama Zombie or her organization appears to have singled you out for special attention. At the very least, you will accept a protective detail.”
“That’s not necessary. I—”
“No, you misunderstood me, Angie.” Adam spoke at low volume, but his voice rang with iron determination. “You will accept a protective detail if you work on this case. We can’t count on serendipity to protect you.”
Angie opened her mouth, but Sam held up a hand to stop her.
“Listen to him, Angie. Take the detail. I don’t have time to train a replacement before the trial.”
“You’d take me off the case?”
“In a heartbeat,” said Sam. “No case is worth your life.”
Angie sat back in her chair and directed her gaze at her lap. “It wouldn’t come to that.”
“It might, but it won’t,” said Adam. “Because you will have a protective detail. And so will Sam.”
Sam glanced at him, eyes wide with surprise. “Adam, I don’t—”
“I’m glad we had a chance to settle this,” said Adam as he turned and walked away.
Sam turned to Angie and cocked an eyebrow.
She grinned at him. “Good for the goose, and all that.”
7
Two weeks later, as Sam and Angie climbed the wide stone steps to the courthouse, trailed by their obvious protective details of thick limbed therianthropes, a giant of a wizard came down to meet them. He wore a meticulously tailored black suit under a heavy overcoat.
“Verbius!” said Angie. “What are you doing here?”
Verbius shook his head once, his face grim. “I hate to do this to you, Angie.” He nodded at Sam. “Mr. McCoy.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve…uh… I have to assert jurisdiction in the Van Dee case.”
“No!” said Sam. “You can’t have it!”
Verbius grimaced. “I’m afraid I have no choice. The order came down from the Magister General this morning.”
“Why, Verbius?” asked Angie. “Why now?”
The tall man rubbed his eyes. “I know it’s short notice—”
“No notice is more like it!” snapped Sam. “We’re on our way to court this very instant!”
“Paul Leibman has offered the Covenancy a deal, and the Magister General wants to take it.”
“The mythical super-cabal of zombie mafiosi? Leibman offered us that, but there’s no corroboration! Nothing to indicate it could survive even if Rose Marie Van Dee was not about to go to prison for the rest of her life!” Angie looked up at Verbius with a pleading gaze.
“I’m afraid—”
“No!” snapped Sam. “I won’t stand for this. We’re due in court, Verbius.” With that, he turned and started up the steps.
Angie’s lips drew into a line as she turned to follow.
“You’re wasting your time,” said Verbius with a sigh. “Your case has been transferred to Covenancy Court.”
She whirled back to face him. “Why? Just tell me that!”
“I already said: the Magister General wants to make a deal. To get to the bigger fish—or at least other bosses as powerful as Van Dee.”
“Maybe so, Verbius, but there’s a right way and a wrong way to do this. You know that as well as I do, and I want to know why you decided to do it the wrong way.”
Verbius averted his gaze and shook his head. “Angie, I’m only doing what I’ve been told—”
“Save it!” she snapped, then turned and ran up the steps to catch Sam before he went inside.
8
Adam handed Sam a drink in a cut-crystal glass and sat in the armchair next to the couch where Sam slouched. “The Magister General wants this to happen, Sam.”
“You have to do something, Adam!”
“What’s there to do?” The Locus Magister spread his hands. “They are within their rights to assert jurisdiction under the TICO Act. You know that, Sam.”
Sam scoffed. “Theurgist Influenced Cabalistic Organization? They don’t have the requisite charges to prosecute anyone under the act but their star witness!”
Adam treated him to a slow nod. “That may be true, Sam, but that’s kind of the point. Van Dee is offering to give them enough to take down zombie Cabals from here to Chicago.”
“Murder, Adam! We have the evidence to get multiple convictions. They can have her after I’m finished!”
Adam chuckled. “You know it doesn’t work that way.”
“I’m not dropping the charges! I won’t do it. The Locus of New York demands justice!”
“So now you speak for the Locus of New York?” asked Adam with exasperation etching lines into his face. “I seem to have missed the election.”
“When you asked me—asked me—to take this job, Adam, you promised me—promised me—that you wouldn’t let politics get in my way.”
“And I haven’t, Sam, not once.” Adam sipped his Scotch and set it on the table. “I understand your frustration, but these things happen. The Covenancy wants her, and the Covenancy will have her.”
Sam grunted, shook his head once, and looked into his own glass of Scotch before downing it. “I’m not going to let her go without a fight, Adam,” he said in a quiet, flat tone.
“What are you going to do? Argue your case in Covenancy Court? Who do you think will win that case?”
“If I don’t win, I’ll appeal.”
“And then what?”
“I’ll go all the way to Washington if I have to.”
Adam’s expression fell into angry lines. “Then you’d better get to it, Sam,” he growled, lifting both hands toward him with his palms up and shooed him away.
Sam nodded and left his office.
9
Sam glanced at Verbius as he came through the swinging gates in the bar. He set his briefcase down and pulled out the chair to sit, but then he turned to the Covenancy Magister. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”
Verbius tilted his head to the side. “Oh, I think you’re wrong there.”
“Withdraw jurisdiction until after I prosecute her,” urged Sam. “It will help your case to have several felony convictions against her.”
Verbius shook his head, looking down at the polished tabletop. “No, it won’t, and you know it. If anyone levels charges against her, she clams up. You know how this works, McCoy.” He looked at Sam askance. “Besides, your foolish motion threatens to undercut the Covenancy’s ability to act. Surely you recognized that the Magister General would order a response.”
“I never thought I’d have to fight my own government to get a fair shake at prosecuting a zombie crime boss.”
Verbius shrugged and gave him a sour smile. “And I never thought I’d have to defend my jurisdiction over the Southern District of the Locus of New York.”
Sam frowned and turned away.
“All rise!” cried the bailiff.
Sam turned and watched Judge Rhea Dubativo ascend to the bench, moving with the careful plodding of great age. She walked with two canes, her back bent and humped between her shoulders, her long, stringy hair almost obscuring her face. The hem of the long, black velvet robe she wore dragged o
n the floor.
She took her seat and shot a rheumy-eyed glare at Sam. “Let’s get this foolishness finished.” She reached for her gavel with a shaking hand, swept it up, and banged it harshly on the sound block. “I’ve read the briefs, so let’s not waste time rehashing the Executive Assistant Locus Magister for the Locus of New York’s spurious claim. Anything new to add to yer ridiculous motion, Mr. McCoy?”
“Your Honor, I must object to—”
“Overruled.”
“But I—”
“Are ye deaf, cully? I’ve overruled yer God-pounding objection!”
Sam snapped his mouth shut. He’d never argued a motion before Rhea Dubativo before, but he’d heard of her eccentricities, her rages. Adam had warned him not to get her riled, and inside of the first few minutes, it seemed he’d managed to do just that. “I apologize to the Court,” he said.
“Stop that groveling, Sai McCoy—sniveling catches in my brains like a fishhook, it does!”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Now then, I asked ye a question, and I’ll have an answer from ye.” A petulant frown decorated her face as she squinted down at him shrewdly.
“Yes, Your Honor. My brief contains the bulk of my argument.”
“It does, does it?” She threw her head back and cackled up at the ceiling. When she finished, she turned her ancient regard on Verbius. “And ye, Mr. Covenancy Magister for the Southern District of the Locus of New York? Have ye more drivel to add to this refuse I hold before me?”
Sam’s brow wrinkled in confusion. It seemed the judge held both arguments in equal contempt. And both magisters, as well.
“Nay, Yer Honor,” said Verbius.
McCoy cast a quick glance at him. “Your Honor, if I may be so bold—”
“Bold. Yes, cully. Bold, y’are. Bold, y’are.”
“Uh, yes, Your Honor. As I was saying, I’d—”
“Oh, no, cully! Ye’ll not wag a pert tongue at me, lest ye find it lying as still as an old dead viper in yer maw.”
“I apologize, Your Honor. It seems I’m off to a bad start. Perhaps I can begin anew?”
Dubativo leaned her head back to stare down her nose at him. Her eyelids drooped into a squint, and the only sound in the courtroom came from the ticking clock. “Nay, nay, yon clock beats as steady as a God’s ugly heart, and there’s no turning it back.” The corners of her mouth turned down, but it was a frown of hard thought rather than displeasure. “Yet mayhap we’ll go forward better than we’ve begun. Adam Hill be a powerful enemy to make, and I’d not make that mistake.”
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