Nightmare in Night Court

by N. M. Silber

  “Mr. Drake,” Mr. Brenner began, “do you recognize that woman?” He looked over at the defense table.

  “Yes I do,” Ev spat back in a whiny voice. “That’s the woman who threatened me.” He seemed like the type who was threatened by women in general. I could tell already that Braden was right; I was going to love Ev. What intelligent woman with self-respect wouldn’t?

  “Let the record indicate that the witness has identified the defendant, Delores Crowley. And do you recall seeing Ms. Crowley on the night of September 23rd of this year, sir?”

  “Yeah. She was trying to get into my friggin’ apartment. Not that she would be the first chick to try that.” He snorted and flexed. Oh my, what a turn on. Someone stop me from tossing my panties at his feet.

  “Would you please explain what you mean? About her trying to get in, that is.”

  “I live in a two unit building. I’m on the first floor. Anyway, that wackadoo, ‘Steven,’ who lives above me, had that woman come to his apartment for some mumbo jumbo party.” He made sure to lisp as he pronounced his neighbor’s name. Wow, a homophobe too. He was getting sexier by the minute. Somehow, I thought that Ev had a smaller unit than Steven.

  “What do you mean ‘mumbo jumbo party’ Mr. Drake?” Mr. Brenner asked.

  “She came in and I heard furniture moving around upstairs and moaning coming from Steven’s place. Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of moaning coming from my place on any given night, but this was different.” Ev sat back and gave us all what I’m sure he thought was a cocky grin, but in reality, it was more like a dicky smile. Judge Epstein was looking at Ev like one would look at a bag of burning dog pooh.

  “What happened?” Mr. Brenner asked, clearing his throat and grimacing. He looked like he had eaten some bad dip.

  I noted that Mr. Brenner and Mr. Drake resembled each other physically. They were both tall, dark haired guys in their mid-twenties. But, while I could understand Mr. Brenner being popular with the ladies, I couldn’t help feeling that a woman would have to be desperate, or clinically brain dead, to even have a one-night stand with Ev.

  “What happened was that the lights went out and came back on a few times and the air conditioning went on the blink. Then the next thing I knew, they were pounding on my door.”

  “What did they want?” Mr. Brenner leaned against the prosecution table and crossed his arms.

  “Steven said that the crazy chick was an exorcist and she was ‘cleansing’ the house.” He made little air quotes and rolled his eyes.

  “What happened then?”

  “She started mumbling and moaning. She sounded like she had been on a bender, you know? Then she pointed at me! That nasty bi … woman, said that I was full of bad energy. Can you believe that garbage?” He looked up at Judge Epstein imploringly. Her head was cocked to the side as she squinted at him. I think she was wondering if evil might be inhabiting Ev. My money was on him being possessed by the spirit of a 1970’s B-list porn star.

  “What, if anything, did you say in response?” Mr. Brenner went on.

  “I told them to get out of my friggin’ apartment but she said that I was the reason that our building was cursed. Can you imagine, somebody saying that I brought them bad mojo?”

  “Hell yeah!” yelled some woman from the gallery.

  “Order,” Judge Epstein said sternly, but I saw her smile a little.

  “She said your building is cursed?” Mr. Brenner went on, glancing up almost apologetically at the woman. Clearly, he agreed with her.

  “Like I said, the lights go on and off and we’ve got problems with the heat and the air conditioning. It gets really cold in some rooms, and hotter everywhere else. That’s not a curse though. It’s a cheap-ass landlord who doesn’t want to hire anybody to fix it.”

  “What happened after you told them to get out?”

  “Steven told her they should go because I wasn’t going to cooperate. Damn straight I wasn’t. But that nut wouldn’t leave. She kept insisting that I was the reason that our building was cursed, and she had to do some kind of exorcism and ‘cleanse’ my apartment. She was just after some extra cash. I know how these people work.”

  “What happened then?”

  “She started chanting some BS about returning to where I came from. I told her I came from Jersey, and she could go back to the nuthouse.”

  “Did she leave?”

  “No, and I tried to slam my door in her face, but she started yelling, ‘to hell with you.’ So, I yelled, to hell with you too lady! I felt threatened – in fear for my life, you know?” Oh please! I rolled my eyes.

  “Did she do anything else?”

  “Yeah, she dropped garlic cloves and salt all over the place.”

  “No further questions.”

  “Cross examination.” Judge Epstein grumbled.

  “Mr. Drake,” Braden said, standing to his full six-foot-three-inch height and striding up to the witness stand commandingly. Ev shrunk back a little. “Isn’t it true that when Mr. Steven McKenna and Ms. Delores Crowley showed up at your door you opened it willingly?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “You weren’t in any fear at that point, correct?”

  “Not at that point, no.”

  “Ms. Crowley never laid a hand on you at any point during this interaction, correct?”

  “Nah, but she’s a chick, so she probably thought about it.” He started snort laughing. Braden stared. He stopped snort laughing.

  “She never said she would harm you in any way, right?”

  “She said ‘I order you to leave.’ That sounds like an implied threat to me.”

  “Your Honor …” Braden began.

  “Answer the question he asked you,” Judge Epstein snapped and Ev gave her a wounded look.

  “She never actually said she would harm me, no,” he answered petulantly.

  “And you testified that you yourself were yelling, correct?”

  “Yeah, but she yelled first.”

  “Other than the garlic and the salt, she didn’t drop anything else on the floor did she?”

  “No, but that was plenty. It smelled like a friggin’ pizzeria in there.”

  “No further questions,” Braden returned to the defense table. Most of the women, and a few of the men, watching from the gallery, sighed collectively. Have I mentioned how sexy my husband is? A cry echoed from the back of the room, “The EMF reader is going off the scale! Folks, we have paranormal activity!” a guy in a black T-shirt shouted. Another guy, holding a stick that seemed to light up spontaneously, headed toward Ev.

  “Objection Your Honor.” Mr. Brenner was on his feet.

  “I’m being threatened again!” Ev whined.

  “We’re the Spirit Hunter Team,” the guy with the stick explained. “Your Honor, the witness in this case seems to be surrounded by an electromagnetic field. That could be indicative of paranormal activity.”

  “What?” Judge Epstein screeched incredulously.

  “This man is possessed,” a second Spirit Hunter announced as he ran a little gadget up and down near Ev’s body.

  “I told you!” Ms. Crowley called out and Braden warned her to be quiet.

  “We should probably get a sample, Ernie,” said the guy with the stick.

  “A sample of what?!” Ev broke in.

  “We’re going to need a sample of a body fluid,” the guy with box answered. “What do think, Burt, mucus or spit?” Ev looked helplessly at Mr. Brenner, but he seemed to be momentarily stunned.

  “Okay, enough!” Judge Epstein banged her gavel. “You can’t just interrupt a case like this. I know President Judge Feeney said you could shoot in here, but you cannot stand in the way of justice. And there will be no spitting either.” She looked purple and veins were sticking out all over the place. It was like a scene from that old horror movie Scanners.

  “Oh, uh. Sorry, Your Honor,” Ernie apologized sheepishly.

  “We can wait and get the sample later,” Burt added.
“He’s probably going to want to find a good exorcist, though.”

  “I’ve got a special going right now,” Ms. Crowley called out.

  “How much?” Ev asked. Suddenly, he was a believer.

  “Work this out later!” Judge Epstein screeched. “Is there any argument?”

  “Well, Your Honor …” Mr. Brenner began.

  “Case dismissed!” She slammed down her gavel. “Five minute recess.” With that she flew off the bench with her black robe billowing. She looked like a giant vampire bat. Ev went off to talk to his new friend Ms. Crowley, and I went over to talk to Braden.

  “Have I told you lately how sexy you are?” I asked him quietly.

  “So, you want to get sexy with me?”

  “In five minutes?” I laughed.

  “That’s long enough for me to cop a feel. It will build anticipation.”

  “Where do you want to go?” I asked coquettishly. He contemplated for a moment, and then grabbed my hand and led me out of the courtroom. We headed down the hallway and around a corner into a cavernous room, lit only by the dim glow of vending machines. “What, are you in the mood for a three year-old Milky Way?” I joked.

  “There’s a dark corner behind the machine with dubious looking sandwiches, and the pickles shot full of chemical waste. Nobody will ever venture over there.” He had a point.

  I felt naughty as we snuck over into the corner, stepping over cables and wires along the way. He backed me against a wall and put his hands on my bottom, pulling my hips against him and then he leaned down and kissed me hungrily. I sighed and slid my tongue against his. Kissing Braden would never get old. His mouth was so warm, wet and wonderfully minty, and his tongue was alternately teasing and demanding. I could happily make out with him all night.

  One hand slid from my bottom up over my hip, tracing my curves until he arrived at the swell of my breast beneath my blouse. Braden was a boob man, and luckily for us both, I had a pretty nice rack. He cupped and lifted with his palm and brushed his thumb over the tip, sending shivers down my spine. His mouth moved to kiss my neck and whisper in my ear.

  “Wait until I get you home tonight. I’m going to do bad things to you that will make you feel so good.” His tongue traced the edge of my ear and I moaned quietly and ground my hips against him. I could feel a bulge pressing against my abdomen that was filled with decadent promise.

  “Uh oh, you’re indisposed. What are you going to do about that?” I ran my hands up his back, thoroughly enjoying the way his hard muscles tensed under my fingertips. I began gently biting his neck.

  “For now I’ll walk it off and think about baseball,” he mumbled against my throat, pinning me against the wall with his hips and making me tingle from head to toe. “Later tonight I’ll give it you.”

  “Oh, baby.” I giggled and writhed against him. I was starting to get lightheaded. A moment later, though, I heard Mr. Brenner calling my name from somewhere down the hall. Great. Braden sighed, collected himself, and stepped back, strategically buttoning his suit jacket in front.

  “I think you’re needed back in court.” His voice was a little husky.

  “Yeah, I guess so. Well, here we go.” I steeled my nerves, straightened my shoulders and prepared to return to the trenches.

  “Round two.” He smiled.

  Chapter Two

  When we returned to the courtroom the Spirit Hunters gang seemed to be conferring about something exciting. Maybe they had found intelligent life here. Nah.

  “Uh oh, I don’t see Mr. Marley anywhere. I had better go hunt him down,” Braden said, heading off in the other direction to do some spirit hunting himself. I saw Mr. Brenner head my way with a determined look on his face and a file in his hand. Great.

  “Hey, Mrs. Pierce,” he said. “What’s going on with Norman Bates?”

  “That’s Nathan Bates,” I corrected him.

  “Right, sorry, Nathan Bates, the body snatcher.” He smiled.

  “You have an offer for me?” I asked hopefully. He grimaced and shifted his weight from foot to foot. That didn’t look like a good sign.

  “Mr. Peterman’s family is very upset about what he went through.”

  “What he went through? You’re kidding me right? Mr. Brenner, Mr. Peterman is dead. It’s not like he cared about his little trip around the block.”

  “Your client was absconding with their dead relative, to go do, God knows what. I kinda get where they’re coming from. Don’t you?”

  “What are you trying to tell me here, Mr. Brenner, that you’re going to make me try this stupid case? Oh come on. Just tell the family about how the system works, how we rely on plea bargains to keep things moving along, so that live people can have their day in court.”

  “I’m not going to make you try it. Your client can always just plead to the charges as filed and let the judge craft an appropriate sentence.”

  “Are you serious? Let delicate Debra up there have at him? She’ll sentence him be racked and boiled in oil. And then she’ll make him do community service and pay a fine too.”

  “Now, Mrs. Pierce, you’re not implying that Judge Epstein would be unnecessarily harsh with Igor over there are you?” He was trying hard not to laugh.

  “I’m so glad you find this amusing, Mr. Brenner,” I answered, trying not to laugh myself. I wasn’t succeeding very well either. Both of us were on the verge of cracking up. This was just so freaking ridiculous.

  “I’m sorry, counselor, but the office policy these days is that if the family strenuously objects, we don’t offer a deal anymore, even in Night Court on Halloween.” He gave me a boyish look that probably melted plenty of panties. “I really am sorry.” I had a feeling that Mr. Brenner was a ladies’ man like my Braden had been back in the day. I think the DA’s office recruited them right out of law school. They were like their not-so-secret weapon.

  “Well, I hope you enjoy our defense, Mr. Brenner. It should be very entertaining.” He nodded and covered his mouth with his fist. As he turned around to leave, he nearly ran into one of the Spirit Hunters, who was coming up behind him.

  “Hello, there. I’m Ernie, and this is ….”

  “Burt!” I broke in gleefully as his partner approached. Three other guys in matching T-shirts brought up the rear. I noticed for the first time that their shirts had a picture of a ghost and the letters S.H.I.T. on the front.

  “Spirit Hunters Investigative Team,” Ernie, who had noticed me noticing, explained. I nodded silently and Mr. Brenner actually bit down on his knuckle at that point. At least somebody was having fun.

  “Did you have something to tell us?” I prompted.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, we felt that we should let someone know, we’re picking up some really weird stuff.”

  “You should be fine as long you’ve had your shots,” Mr. Brenner replied.

  “No, on our equipment!” his partner, Burt said, looking excited. “We’re picking up definite signs of an infestation.”

  “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure they sprayed,” Mr. Brenner added.

  “He means we think there may be a malevolent entity here,” one of the guys in the background piped up, “but we’re not really sure it’s intelligent.”

  “I thought Mr. Drake left,” I said to Mr. Brenner,

  “No, he’s out in the hall having a pow wow with Delores in the Technicolor Dream Coat,” Mr. Brenner answered.

  “Not him. He’s just a minor inhuman,” Burt offered.

  “Those were my thoughts exactly,” I said with a smile.

  “This is major spirit activity. The epicenter seems to be right in that spot right there,” Ernie said, turning around and pointing to precisely the place that Mr. Marley had been seated before he had vanished. Thunder clapped in background and lightening lit up the sky at that exact moment. Okay, not really. But if this had been a movie, that’s what would have happened.

  “That spot, really? That’s where Mr. Marley was sitting,” I said to Mr. Brenner.

&n
bsp; “Who was sitting there?” he asked.

  “My husband Braden’s client, Mr. Marley. You know, the guy who supposedly died in 1905?”

  “I don’t have a Mr. Marley. Edna must have him on her caseload,” he answered, referring to Edna Manson, the other prosecutor, who was working the room.

  “Edna must have who on her caseload?” said a hardened-looking, Assistant District Attorney who happened to be walking by at the moment. She pushed a lock of jet-black hair out of her face, revealing a jagged scar and a charming sneer.

  “Mr. Marley? He’s charged with trespassing and prowling at night?”

  “Oh right. That’s just an administrative case, though. It was never closed, and we just have to figure out what to put in the file.”

  “Why did you make him show up for that?”

  “Make him show up? What are you talking about? The guy died in 1905, right here in this courtroom as a matter of fact.” Her mouth curled into a nasty grin, and I noticed that she had rather pointy teeth.

  “From what, old age?” I asked, looking at my watch. There were going to be lots of warm drinks at Jessica’s Halloween party.

  “He had a heart attack just as they called his case,” she answered in her gravely, three-pack-a-day lilt. “That’s why it was never resolved.” She cracked her knuckles.

  “What are you talking about? He was sitting right over there,” I said, inching back. Edna was a little creepy.

  “In the epicenter!” Ernie looked like he might wet his pants.

  “We might be talking vortex,” Burt replied. He and Ernie gazed at each other like they had just struck gold. They darted off to go play with their lights in the spot Mr. Marley had been occupying with the entire S.H.I.T. following close behind. Well, at least I was fairly sure they could get a sample of some body fluid over there.

  “It must be a mistake,” Edna said dismissively. She was such a cynic, but she was a regular in that courtroom. Her spirit had probably died in there a few decades ago too.

  “The date must be wrong,” I suggested. “Maybe he had a heart attack recently, but he survived. That’s probably what happened.”