Page 40 of Love and Order

CHAPTER 10

Monday, July 21, 1873

“Good mornin’, Miss McGovern.”

As Daniel Littrick set his leather satchel on the prosecution’s table, Andie’s stomach fluttered, particularly at his sparkling blue eyes.

“Morning. I’ll ask you again, please call me either—”

“Andromeda or Andie.” His smile almost melted her. Her given name on his tongue sent a thrill through her. “But in this setting, I’d prefer to keep things a little more formal.” He shot a discreet glance at some of the drunken men watching them. “If you follow my meanin’.”

“I do. And I’ll abide by your desire. Here …” Outwardly, anyway. Her stomach had been doing secret somersaults over the past several days as she’d spent several hours perusing his law books and debating him on points of the law. At moments, her sharp tongue had come out, and she’d breathed a little fire his way—but he’d heaped it back in her direction with equal vigor. And she’d enjoyed it.

As much as she’d relished debating Papa over some of the very same points, she’d never found so much delight as she had debating Daniel.

“Good luck today.” He smiled, and she narrowed a glance at him.

“To you, as well. You’re going to need it.”

“Will I, now?” He shot her a spicy look. “We’ll see.”

When she returned to her own table, Rion was already seated.

“What in the name of Juniper was that?” Her brother frowned.

She grinned. “A little verbal swordplay, I suppose.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please tell me you’re not growin’ a romantic interest in that fella.”

She wouldn’t admit it—yet—but yes, the interest was strong on her end. She hoped it was matched on Daniel’s, but until he made his feelings known, it wasn’t her place to say.

“Don’t you worry. I’m focused on your case.”

Many of the same onlookers from their last court day came in, including the collection of odd folks from Dr. Chellingworth’s medicine show.

She leaned toward her brother. “Did you hear you’re an uncle?”

Rion swung a startled gaze her way. “Lena had her baby?” At her nod, he grinned. “When?”

“She labored through the night and delivered at about five this morning. She and her boy, Joshua Rion, are both well.”

He slapped the table with a laugh, shackles rattling. “Oh, that’s good.”

A voice rose in the crowded room. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Ethan Vost.”

The now-familiar sound of chair legs grating across the plank floor raked across Andie’s senses. To Andie’s relief, rather than the slovenly Judge Oakwell, stinking of whiskey and sweat, the suit-clad Judge Vost took the seat behind the front table. He smacked the gavel once.

“Court’s in session. Be seated.”

“Where’s the other judge, Judge?” one onlooker slurred.

“If you’ll be patient, I’ll address that.”

The man sat, and Judge Vost made sure he had the room’s attention.

“As you just heard, my name is Judge Ethan Vost. Territorial Judge Ethan Vost. Justice of the Peace Oakwell was mistakenly appointed to sit on this case. It’s a territorial matter that falls under the jurisdiction of my court, so I’ll be taking the case from here on.”

Several in the crowd groaned in displeasure, and the judge again banged his gavel.

“Order! I’ll have order in my courtroom.”

Once the din quieted, Vost looked around, pausing in the direction of the medicine show people before continuing. “I run my trials differently than Judge Oakwell. While court’s in session, I’ll not have anyone speak other than the prosecutor, Mr. Littrick, the defense attorney, Miss McGovern, a witness on the stand, or anyone else I might call upon. If you haven’t been called on, keep your mouth shut. No asking for recesses to refill your whiskey. No calling out your questions, observations, or rude comments. You all are welcome to watch the proceedings, but do so quietly and respectfully. If you can’t, there’s the door.” He stabbed a finger toward the main entrance. “If you won’t abide by my rules, leave now.”

He paused, and a couple of drunken men departed, grousing as they went.

“Anyone else?”

Everyone else stayed in their seats, although some looked less than enthused. Andie grinned at Rion, leaning nearer.

“This is already going better than last week.”

He nodded, his handcuffs rattling against the table.

Judge Vost looked at Sheriff Downing.

“Sheriff, remove those shackles from the prisoner, please. I don’t want to hear chains rattling throughout the day.”

Downing stood. “Beggin’ your pardon, Judge, but he’s already made me look the fool once by escapin’ my jail. I ain’t takin’ a second chance …”

The judge looked toward the hall behind him, then to the front door. “Am I correct in assuming the armed men at the back and front of this room are yours?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re armed, sir?”

Downing patted his holstered pistol. “I am.”

“So is Marshal Epps.” Judge Vost nodded toward the stoic US Marshal standing nearby. Then, the judge himself stood and, unbuttoning his suit coat, produced a small revolver from some sort of leather sling contraption that hung under his left arm. He placed the gun on the table. “That makes five of us.” He shifted his focus to Rion. “Mr. Braddock, do I have your word that if Sheriff Downing removes your chains, you’ll make no attempt to escape this courtroom, under threat of death?”

“I been shot real recent, sir. It ain’t to my likin’. You got my word, so long as we can get this case done—and done right.”

“Oh, it’ll be done right.” He turned on Downing. “Unshackle that man.”

The sheriff grudgingly removed Rion’s chains and sat again. Rion eased into a more comfortable position and rubbed his wrists.

Hattie Ingram was correct. Her brother did have thick wrists. Thank the Lord she’d had the wherewithal to notice such a detail in the midst of her ordeal.

Judge Vost continued. “Miss McGovern, you have a motion?”

Her mouth suddenly cottony, she took a sip of water then rose. “Yes, Your Honor. Two. One is to drop the kidnapping and attempted murder charges against Mr. Braddock in the case of Hattie Ingram’s disappearance. The other is to drop the murder charges for Mary Redmond and Sarah Jacobs, also known as Serafina.”

“Let’s deal with one at a time. On Miss Ingram’s kidnapping and attempted murder, what grounds are you basing your motion on?”

“On the grounds that Hattie Ingram’s testimony, heard by Mr. Littrick, Sheriff Downing, and me, that Rion Braddock was not the man who abducted her. I’ve written it up, Your Honor.” She produced the several pages of documentation she’d painstakingly written out—both with her motion and Hattie Ingram’s testimony, signed by Hattie, Daniel, Downing, and her.

Marshal Epps collected the papers and delivered them to the judge. She tried not to squirm as he read. When he finally looked up, he held the stack up and caught her eye.

“I appreciate the detail, Miss McGovern. I haven’t seen many motions as well written as this since becoming a territorial judge.”

She tried not to let her smile overtake her. “Thank you, Your Honor. I try to be thorough.”

“It shows.” He turned Daniel’s way. “Mr. Littrick, you’re aware of this motion?”

Daniel stood. “I am, sir.”

“What objections do you have?”

“None. I heard the same testimony, and there was no question that Hattie Ingram believed Mr. Braddock was not her abductor.”

Judge Vost nodded. “How is Miss Ingram doing after her ordeal?”

“Physically she’s healing, Your Honor, but the episode took a toll. She’s weak, she tires easily, and from what I understand, she’s understandably fearful.”

“Was it hard for her to talk about the events she endured?”

“Yes, Your Honor. Very.”

He skimmed through the papers again then laid them aside. “All right, Miss McGovern. I grant your motion to drop the kidnapping and attempted murder charges.”

Her breath whooshed out, and Rion slumped in his chair. She squeezed his fingers for an instant before she stood.

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

“You’re welcome. Now, your other motion?”

“Yes.” She retrieved the second stack of papers and called her thoughts into order. “This motion is to drop the two murder charges against Mr. Braddock. Much of the evidence in those cases is the same as in Miss Hattie’s abduction. A pair of boots with a similar mark in the heel. Similarities in physical appearance. Resemblances of horses. Mr. Braddock being near or with the deceased shortly before they went missing. These were all details linking Mr. Braddock to Hattie Ingram’s disappearance, and some or all are present in the deaths of Mary Redmond and Sarah Jacobs. If they were untrue in one case, they are very likely untrue in all three cases.”

Marshal Epps retrieved the motion and handed it to the judge, who perused it like before.

“Mr. Littrick, your thoughts?”

Daniel stood. “The previous motion was a simple matter, Your Honor. A believable witness gave compelling testimony that her attacker was not Mr. Braddock. Unfortunately, we have no such witnesses in Miss Redmond’s and Miss Jacobs’ cases, so I’d like to understand more of Miss McGovern’s reasoning before I agree to dropping these charges.”

The judge skimmed the motion. Pausing, he leaned back, seeming to read more thoroughly. Nodding, he finally looked up.

“I want to give this my full attention. Are there any other motions?”

Daniel held up a single sheet of paper. “One, your honor. Motion to seat a new jury, should the trial proceed.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd, and she swung a startled look Daniel’s way. Upon returning the look, he gave her a faint smile and a discreet wink.

“Order!” The judge banged his gavel, and the room settled. Judge Vost leaned his elbows on the table, shooting Daniel a quizzical look. “I’d expect such a motion from the defense, but it’s rather surprising from the prosecution.”

“I understand, Your Honor. But the six jurors may have picked up on Judge Oakwell’s biases, sir. In the interest of justice, Mr. Braddock should have an impartial jury.”

“What in the name of Juniper …” Rion breathed beside her.

Andie stared at Daniel as Epps collected the page and passed it to the judge. Then, craning to reach Rion’s ear, she whispered, “He’s doing exactly what he said—being fair.”

Judge Vost gave the page a brief look.

“I’ll rule on this once I’ve ruled on Miss McGovern’s motion. Court’s in recess until—” He studied his watch. “Eleven.” He gave one strike of his gavel, and the room erupted in sound and motion.

Once court reconvened, Judge Vost heard arguments for and against Andie’s motion to dismiss the two murder charges and, after deliberation, denied her request. “But, Miss McGovern, I would be willing to reconsider the matter at a later point, should the evidence warrant a second look.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” She conferred with Braddock, seemingly reassuring her client she’d revisit the topic.

Judge Vost moved on to his motion to seat a new jury, and after questioning the existing six men, it was also denied.

“Let’s get this trial underway. Mister Littrick, call your first witness.”

He stood. “Thank you, Your Honor. I call Rion Braddock to the stand.”

The big man made his way to the front where Marshal Epps swore him in.

Daniel smiled. “Howdy, Mr. Braddock. Thank you for being here.”

The big man gave a sarcastic shake of his head. “Ain’t got much of a choice, now do I?”

“I suppose not. Would you please inform the jury what your job is?”

“Of late, I work as a bounty hunter.”

“And how long have you held this job?”

“Off and on since I was fourteen.”

“That’s a long time. I assume it’s a dangerous job. Are you proficient with weapons, Mr. Braddock?”

He shrugged. “Most bounty hunters are.”

“But are you?”

“Of course I am.” Irritation marked his features. “All of ’em. Guns, knives, fists.”

“Have you ever taken a life, sir?”

Braddock turned a hateful glare his way. “On a few occasions—in the line of duty.”

“So you’re obviously a dangerous man, capable of taking a human life at will.”

“I didn’t say that. Why don’t you ask me who I killed or why I took their lives?”

“Objection, Your Honor.” He shifted toward Judge Vost. “Please instruct the witness that I will ask the questions.”

“Mr. Braddock, it’s in your best interest to answer only the questions posed, nothing else.”

Seething, Braddock stared in Andie’s direction as she motioned for him to remain calm.

Daniel pulled a large pair of boots from under his table. “Are these your boots, Mr. Braddock?” He held them up so he and the rest of the room could see them.

“Looks to be. Can I see ’em?”

Daniel handed the boots over, and Braddock looked at the right one’s sole.

“Yeah, they’re mine.”

“What did you see that tells you they’re yours?”

He frowned. “The size, for one. And there’s a mark in the right heel. A little quarter moon.” He drew the shape in the air with his finger.

“Your feet are rather large. Would you mind putting them on so we can see they fit?”

“All of me is large, you flop-eared half-wit. I’m tellin’ you they’re my boots.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Judge Vost banged his gavel.

“Order!”

“Oh, c’mon, Judge! That was funny!” someone hollered.

The judge searched the crowd and pointed. “Marshal Epps, remove that man, please.”

Marshal Epps waded into the crowded room, hauling the drunken man up by the arm. After a momentary struggle, Epps shoved him out the doors with a warning not to return.

“Now, Mr. Braddock.” Vost turned his way. “Save the insults and do as you’re asked.”

After fishing a pair of socks from inside, he slipped out of his worn moccasins and put the boots on.

“Thank you, Mr. Braddock.” Daniel nodded. “They do seem to fit.”

Braddock gave a contemptuous roll of his eyes.

“You may remove them now.”

“I can’t even wear my own boots?”

“Unfortunately, we’ll need ’em back. They’re evidence. That’s all I have for this witness at this moment.”

“Miss McGovern, cross-examine?”

As Braddock pulled off the boots, Andie rose.

“Mr. Braddock, you mentioned you’ve taken some lives. Would you care to elaborate on who you killed and why?”

“Yes, miss.” He shoved the socks inside the boots and set both on the floor. “I’ve killed three men. All three were outlaws I was huntin’, and all three got the drop on me. In each case, it was kill or be killed, so I did what I had to do.”

“By what method did you take those lives?”

“Two of ’em, we were wrestlin’ over a gun at close range, and they lost the match. The third, I snapped his neck.”

“Have you ever stabbed anyone?”

“No, miss.” He shook his head.

“Have you ever harmed a woman?”

His eyes turned fiery. “I wouldn’t!”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Ain’t right, that’s why.”

“But there’s a further reason, isn’t there?”

Jaw clenched, he hung his head. “I was an orphan—taken in by an ornery ol’ cuss when I was ten. Across the four years me and four other boys lived with him, he took in two orphan girls. Young pretty ones to cook and clean his house. But that wasn’t all he kept ’em for, if you know what I mean. He had his way with ’em. Mistreated ’em bad—and, I think, killed ’em both.” He looked at his sister then. “Not bein’ able to save them has haunted me ever since. I was helpless then, but I ain’t helpless now. I see a woman in danger these days, and I’ll make sure she’s not harmed.”

“So it wouldn’t cross your mind to use deadly force on a woman?”

“Like I said, I wouldn’t.”

“Thank you, Mr. Braddock. No further questions, Your Honor.”

Judge Vost turned to him. “Mr. Littrick?”

“I may recall this witness, but I’m done with him for now, sir. Next, I call Pearl Johnson.”

A woman in her thirties came to the door escorted by another US Marshal, and once Epps swore her in, she sat.

“Good afternoon, Miss Johnson.”

“Afternoon.”

“Would you please tell the court what you do?”

“Well, now, I run the brothel in Cambria Springs. The Mountain Rose.”

“Did the soiled dove known as Sweet Serafina work in your establishment?”

“Yeah. For about two years.”

“And on the night that Serafina went missing, do you recall seeing the defendant, Rion Braddock, in your establishment?”

She turned a hard look on Braddock and nodded. “Yep, he was there. Right in the middle of our busiest time.”

“And who did he see that night?”

“He asked to see Serafina, though I’ve trained all my girls to offer their services if a gentleman caller waits too long.”

A murmur rippled through the room, particularly from the women in attendance, and Judge Vost reminded them to be quiet with a rap of his gavel.

“Did he see any other dove in your establishment?”

“To my recollection, no. He was intent on seein’ her.”

“Did you happen to see him leave?”

“No.”

“So you can’t say whether he left alone?”

“No, sir. I don’t recall.”

“Thank you, miss.” He smiled as he turned to Andie. “Your witness.”

“No questions.”

Daniel proceeded to call two other soiled doves from the Mountain Rose, asking similar questions, with similar information learned. In each case, Andie strangely declined to clarify any details through cross-examination.

“Next, I call Dutch Uttley.”

Dutch entered, was sworn in, and took the witness stand.

“Afternoon, Mr. Uttley. Sorry to pull you away from your café. When was the last time you saw your waitress, Mary Redmond?”

“The Saturday of the Founders Day Weekend.”

“What do you recall from that day?”

“We were busy. Mary worked from open to close, and about midday, Rion Braddock came in and ate, then showed up again after we closed.” He rubbed his forehead as if it pained him. “They left together, headed toward her place. That’s the last I saw of her. We’re closed on Sundays, and she never showed Monday.”

“So it’s possible—even probable—that Mr. Braddock was the last one to see Miss Redmond alive?”

“I have no way of knowin’ that.” The man glared.

“But he’s the last one you saw her with, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Thank you, Mr. Uttley.” He turned. “Miss McGovern, your witness.”

She jotted something on a paper, then looked toward Vost. “No questions, Your Honor.”

Beside her, Braddock whispered something, looking peevish that she wasn’t taking the opportunity to cross-examine witnesses. Daniel couldn’t blame Braddock. If he were defending the man, he’d have cross-examined several she’d dismissed.

For a moment, a heated—but whispered—discussion ensued, ending when Andie laid her hand on his, and Braddock jerked back and folded his arms.

“Are you and your client ready to proceed, Miss McGovern?” the judge called.

“Yes, Your Honor. Forgive the interruption.”

Vost nodded. “Proceed with your next witness, Counselor.”

“I call Miss Kezia Jarrett to the stand.”

Calliope entered, and once Epps swore her in, she sat.

“Good afternoon, Miss Jarrett. Please tell the court your real name and how you’re employed.”

She cleared her throat. “Calliope Wilson, and I’m a Pinkerton Detective.”

Gasps and murmurs ripped through the room, causing Judge Vost to bang his gavel.

“Order!”

Once the silence returned, he continued. “Why did you come to Cambria Springs?”

“For five years, the Pinkertons have been investigating a series of murders in various locations, from Chicago to Wyoming Territory. All were women, stabbed, with their hair shorn. When we learned of Mary Redmond’s death, it was the natural next place for the Pinkertons to investigate, though I came to the case when Serafina was found.”

Daniel eyed her for a moment. “You have an unusual skill, don’t you?”

“I’m an artist. I sketch faces, scenes, details of a crime.”

“Is this one of your sketches?” From his table, he produced the sketch of the boot track with the crescent in the right heel.

“It is.” Her tone held a note of reluctance.

“And where did you see and draw this?”

“In the cabin where Serafina’s body was found.”

“There must have been many tracks in that cabin, considering the boys who found her, the sheriff and his men who removed the corpse, and yourself. Can you recall anything distinctive about the placement of this particular track, Miss Wilson?”

She heaved a breath. “Other tracks—both human and animal—were laid down over it. This was one of the earliest tracks to be left in the cabin, which led me to believe it was the killer’s, or perhaps an accomplice’s.”

“Thank you, Miss Wilson.” He sat.

Vost turned to Andie. “Miss McGovern?”

Again, she looked up from jotting a note. “No questions, Your Honor.”

Heaviness settled in Daniel’s stomach. Why wasn’t she asking anything? He prayed, asking God that she would put up some kind of a fight. He didn’t want to roll over her with no opposition.

“Mr. Littrick?”

“I call Josiah Tunstall.”

A wide-eyed nine-year-old boy entered and was sworn in.

“Howdy, Josiah. How are you today?”

He looked around, posture stiff. “I’d rather be fishin’, sir.”

Daniel laughed. “I think there’s probably a few of us who feel that way.” He leaned in and whispered from behind his hand. “Don’t tell, but I’m one of ’em.”

The boy eased a little and also whispered from behind his hand. “I won’t, sir.”

He winked at the boy. “I need to ask you a few questions about—”

“Miss Hattie goin’ missin’?”

Daniel nodded. “Yes.”

“Objection, Your Honor!” Andie bolted to her feet. “My client is not charged with Hattie Ingram’s kidnapping.”

“You’re correct, Miss McGovern.” The judge nodded. “Mr. Littrick, why’re you bringing this up?”

“It’ll show a pattern—that Mr. Braddock was around each of the women. Perhaps in Miss Hattie’s case he wasn’t directly responsible, but there’s still a connection.”

Judge Vost looked first at him, then Andie. “I’m going to allow this for now, but mind yourself, Mr. Littrick.” He faced the jury. “Jurors, keep in mind that Mr. Braddock is not charged with the kidnapping of Hattie Ingram.”

Daniel focused on Josiah. “Let’s see if we can’t get you out to do some fishin’ before dark, all right?”

“Sure. What d’ya want to know?”

“Miss Hattie came to stay with your ma, right?”

“Yeah. Pa had to take a trip, and Ma was expectin’ her baby real soon. So Miss Hattie came to look after us.”

“What did you see when she went out to take care of the barn animals after dark?”

Josiah nodded. “A big man with two horses came out of the shadows and grabbed her.”

“Can you identify the man, Josiah?”

“It was pretty dark, but the lantern was lit, so I could see a little. The fella had a hat and a beard. The beard looked dark. I didn’t see the horses real good, but both was darker colors, and one of ’em had some white socks.”

“You’re sure.”

He nodded. “I saw the white in the lantern’s glow.”

“Very good, young man. Is there anyone in the room who might be that fella?”

“First one I wondered about was him.” He pointed in Rion Braddock’s direction.

“All right. Thank you, Josiah.” He turned in Andie’s direction. “Your witness.”

For once, she rose. “Hello, Josiah, I’m Miss McGovern.”

“Howdy, miss.”

“You’re very brave to come speak with us.”

“Thank you.”

“You said, as far as the man who might fit the description you saw, the first fella you wondered about was Mr. Braddock.”

“Yeah. He’s big, and he’s got a dark beard, kinda scruffy.”

“Do you see any others in the room who are big with dark, scruffy beards?”

“Sure, miss. Sheriff Downing, Bobby Hawkins’ pa, there.” He pointed to each man, then swung his pointer toward the jury box. “Mr. Sanderson.” Craning his neck, he peered over the heads of others seated toward the back. “And that fella there in the corner.”

Daniel looked where Josiah pointed. The man in question—a fella with a tall frame and wide shoulders, but no beard—seemed to come out of a stupor as attention shifted his way. Wide-eyed, he darted a panicked look around the room.

Miss McGovern looked in the man’s direction. “But Josiah, that gentleman doesn’t have a beard.”

“Not right now. But you know how men’s faces are, miss. Lots of ’em can grow a beard quick, then shave it and look different. That fella and the one sitting with you are both big like I saw.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Josiah. That’s very astute.”

Confusion marred his features. “What’s astute ?”

“It means you made a very smart point. Thank you.”

He grinned. “Sure, miss. Glad I could help you.”

“You did.” She turned toward Daniel, a challenge in her eye. “I’m done with this witness.”

Daniel approached the young man again. “Josiah, just to clarify, have you ever seen that gentleman with a beard?” He motioned to the corner.

“No sir. Only time I ever seen him was at the medicine show a while back. He got picked outta the crowd to help the sharpshooter lady by throwin’ the balls up in the air.” He mimicked the motion. “He didn’t have a beard then, either.”

“Thank you. You did very well, Josiah. Now, go see your parents. Maybe they’ll let you go fishin’ after all.”

The boy hurried off to meet his pa, waiting at the back of the room.

“I call Stephen Nesbitt to the stand.”

Once he was sworn in, Daniel began.

“Mr. Nesbitt, please state your real name and occupation.”

“Joseph Trenamen, operative for the Pinkerton Detective Agency.”

Another disturbance rippled through the crowd but quieted before the judge picked up his gavel.

“Did you investigate at the Tunstall property after Hattie Ingram disappeared?”

“I did.”

“What did you find?”

An irritated look in his eyes, he glanced away, then back. “Boot tracks.”

Daniel nodded. “Anything distinguishing about those tracks, sir?”

“They had a crescent-shaped indentation in the right heel.”

“Same as Miss Wilson drew.” He picked up the drawing and showed it in the direction of the jury. “The one she surmised was left by the killer at Serafina’s murder scene?”

“Yes.”

“And the same identifying mark on Rion Braddock’s boot?” He showed the boot to the jury.

“Yes.”

“As a trained investigator, what conclusion do you draw?”

He inhaled deeply. “Appears like Rion Braddock was somehow involved in both Serafina’s death and Hattie Ingram’s disappearance.”

“Thank you, sir. You’ve been working this case since the first murder five years ago, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And who is your prime suspect in Mary Redmond’s murder?”

“Rion Braddock was the last person we know who saw her alive.”

“Have these boot tracks shown up at any of the previous murder scenes, Mr. Trenamen?”

“Several.”

“Thank you. No further questions.”

Andie rose and shook her head. “No questions for this witness at this time, Your Honor.”

When Vost’s attention swung back in his direction, Daniel drew a deep breath. “Members of the jury, I believe I’ve given ample evidence to show that Rion Braddock was in the vicinity of all three crimes that were committed here in Cambria Springs. I rest my case, Your Honor.”

He took his seat, his heart heavy. If Andie couldn’t answer the points he’d made, Rion would probably be convicted, and after getting to know Andie and her brother and sister a little, that idea left a gaping pit in his belly.

Lord, please let her have something good.