“Not to my knowledge,” Curt said. “At least they didn’t come in while I’ve been on duty. I came on at three o’clock this afternoon.”
“She was talking to me on her cell phone. It’s in the record room.”
“That’s creative,” Douglas commented. “I have to give you credit for that.” He looked at Curt. “Do you think we could take a look? I mean it’s on our way out.”
“Of course,” Curt said.
While Curt led the way to the record room with Kim and Douglas in tow, Leroy went out to the squad car to make contact with the station. At the record-room threshold, Curt stepped aside and let the others enter. Once inside, Kim was immediately crestfallen. The chairs had been righted; more important, the phone was gone. “It was here, I swear,” he said. “And a number of these chairs were upended.”
“I didn’t see any phone when I came in here to investigate the break-in,” Curt said. “And the chairs were as you see them now.”
“What about the broken glass-door panel?” Kim said excitedly. He pointed at the door to the front hall. “I’m sure that was the shattering noise I heard while I was on the phone with her.”
“I assumed the door was just part of the break-in,” Curt said. “Along with the window.”
“It couldn’t be,” Kim said. “I broke the window, but the door panel was already broken when I got here. Look, all the glass from the door panel is on the inside. Whoever did it was in the hall.”
“Hmm,” Douglas said. He stared down at the broken glass at the base of the door. “He does have a point.”
“Her car!” Kim said, getting another idea. “It has to be outside still. It’s a yellow Ford sedan. It’s parked at the end of the building.”
Before Douglas could respond to this new suggestion, Leroy returned from the squad car. A wry smile lit up his broad face. “I just got off the radio with the station,” he said. ‘They ran a quick check for me on the good doctor, and guess what? He’s got a sheet. He was arrested just last night for trespassing, resisting arrest, striking a police officer, and assault and battery on a fast-food manager. Currently he’s out of the slammer on his own recognizance.”
“My, my,” Douglas said. “A repeat offender! Okay, Doc, enough of this nonsense. You’re going downtown.”
FIFTEEN
Sunday, late morning, January 25th
It was déjà vu all over again for Kim. He was back in the same courtroom with the same judge. The only real difference was the weather outside. This time there was no sun; the day was cloudy with scattered snow flurries, and Judge Harlowe’s mood matched the gray day.
Kim was seated at a scarred library table alongside Tracy. Standing before them and directly below the bench was Justin Devereau, a lawyer and longtime friend of Kim’s. He was aristocratic in appearance, a Harvard-trained lawyer who’d followed the old adage: “Go West, young man.” He’d started what had become one of the largest and most successful law firms in the city. His case success rate was unrivaled. Yet, on this particular morning, he looked concerned. He’d been fighting an uphill battle against Judge Harlowe’s ire.
Kim looked worse than ever, having spent yet another night in jail in the same outfit. He still hadn’t shaved or showered. He was also clearly anxious about the outcome of the current proceedings. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to jail.
Justin cleared his throat. “Allow me to reiterate that Dr. Kim Reggis has truly been the proverbial pillar of society up until the tragic affliction of his only daughter.”
“His daughter’s illness was the excuse for his appearance before this court yesterday, Counselor,” Judge Harlowe said with impatience. “For my weekend on call, I don’t like to see the same face twice. It’s an insult to my judgment for having allowed the individual his freedom after the first infraction.”
“Dr. Reggis’s daughter’s recent death has caused him monumental stress, Your Honor,” Justin persisted.
“That’s apparent,” Judge Harlowe said. “What’s in question is whether he is a threat to society in his current state of mind.”