Stealing the Elf-King's Roses: The Author's Cut Read Free Page B

around New Parker Plaza were bending in the force of it, and the featherduster tops hissed and rattled, each individual frond glinting as if wet in the harsh bright sun. Dust flew everywhere. Lee winced a little at the light but could do nothing about it for the moment; for here were the newsies already, two cameras and a few print people, waiting on the courthouse steps to take a statement from them.
    “Good afternoon, folks,” Gelert said amiably, sitting down on the top step.
    Lee, pausing beside him, sneezed. “Afternoon, all,” she said. “Please forgive me, it’s the dust…”
    “Do you have a prepared statement?” said one of the waiting reporters, not one of the familiar ones. Lee thought she was possibly from  Variety  or the  Reporter .
    “No,” Lee said. “We thought we’d just adlib today.”
    Gelert sneezed too. “Sorry,” he said. “Can everybody hear me okay? My implant speaker’s been acting up lately when the volume’s turned up out in the open.”
    “No problem,” said the  Variety  reporter, and the others shook their heads.
    “Right,” said a third reporter, a little, casually dressed man with dimples and a deceptively innocent face. “Ms. Enfield, this has been the sixth high profile case your firm has been assigned to in the last four months. How do you answer the charge that the DA’s Office is showing favoritism to you because of your former relationship with—”
    “If it  was  a charge,” Lee said, interrupting him and doing her best to keep her smile casual, “I’d suggest that the person making it should look at the results in the cases involved. Our firm appears to produce results, as this is our fifth win out of those six cases. If we’re favorites with the DA’s Office at the moment, it seems we’re favorites with Justice as well…and there’s no way to buy or influence  that . Unless you’ve found one?” She gave the reporter what she hoped would pass for an amused look.
    “The Ellay District Attorney’s Office assigns cases to the pool of qualified prosecuting teams on an availability basis,” Gelert said, “as you can confirm by checking the court calendar. Our last five cases have been assigned us because in each case we’d just finished another proceeding, and were available. The luck of the draw. But it helps to know what to  do  with luck.”
    A mutter as some of the reporters paused to take notes. “What message would you send to Mr. Blair’s wife and children?” said another.
    “That Mr. Blair, like every other defendant,” Lee said, “has himself chosen the form of his punishment And that we, like his family, look forward to the day when the Justice living inside him, as it lives inside everyone, decides that he’s served his sentence and can go free. He, and Justice, will work that out for themselves.”
    Another mutter from the reporters. “The case is going to appeal,” said another one.
    “That’s right,” Gelert said. “And we wish the defendant well; while also suggesting that in this result, Justice has prevailed. But then it always does.”
    “Dr. Gelert,” said another reporter, a small trim woman with long blond hair tied back, “what’s your reaction to the statement made by one of your people recently that direct judicial intervention is a ‘blunt instrument’ in this time of increased understanding of criminal motivation?”
    Gelert dropped that big fringed jaw and showed many more of his teeth than Lee thought strictly necessary. “‘Cruel and unusual punishment’ again?” Gelert said. “How can Justice’s own self be cruel? And if it’s unusual, that’s  our  fault, not Its. ‘Hers,’ if you prefer to see Justice that way; lots of humans do. My people, too, actually.” A gust of wind blew a great swirl of dust across the entrance of the courthouse, Lee sneezed, and so did several of the reporters. Gelert shook himself all over, and his chain rang softly. “My people,” Gelert added,