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Dear Diary: February 1

This is the first entry into my fifth diary. The police have confiscated the other four. I’m really scared about how they will use what I wrote in them to help convict me of these murders. Plus, the embarrassment that will come from some of it. From now on, it probably won’t matter anymore, I will be more careful. I never thought what I put in my diaries would become public.

Marc Kadella called earlier. Thank God he’s my lawyer. He found out the police have a warrant for my arrest. He contacted someone he knows with the prosecutor’s office. They agreed to let him bring me in. We have to be there at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Then they will book me, process me and make the arrest official. The truth is, Dear Diary, I am terrified. If I get put in jail with all of the criminals, what will they do to me?

I have to try to get some sleep. Marc told me to wear jeans, a sweatshirt and sneakers. Like I don’t dress that way every day.

Marc believes the judge will allow bail. He says he believes that because their case is so thin. Dad has insurance money coming. He said he would pay for my bail. Marc assured him he would get it back as long as I don’t run and make all of the court appearances.

Marc, with Maddy tagging along to make Robbie feel better, had delivered her, as promised, to police custody at precisely 9:00 A.M. Being unable, not allowed, to go with her and hold Robbie’s hand, Marc and Maddy left before 10:00.

Robbie’s first appearance was scheduled for the same day at two o’clock. The arraignment judge was an older man, Daniel Lundgren. At age 69, Lundgren was less than a year away from mandatory retirement. He had volunteered for arraignments. The chief judge, Sally Taylor, agreed and Lundgren was treading water while shopping for a new boat and set of golf clubs.

Marc and Maddy, along with a packed elevator, got off on the 11 th floor. They turned left, took one look at the hallway and stopped. Robbie’s case was all over the news and in the morning paper. By looking at the crowd in the hall, they knew the courtroom would be full.

Instead of trying to shove their way through, they turned back and went to the security entrance. This was a back way in to the court rooms and guarded, behind the courtrooms in the hall where the judges’ chambers were. Marc pushed the buzzer and a few seconds later a sheriff’s deputy appeared.

“Hey! Hi, Maddy. What’s new? How’ve you been?” the deputy asked her while ignoring Marc.

“Great, Stan, how are you?” Maddy replied.

Marc looked at her and asked, “Is there anyone in law enforcement in the metro area you don’t know?”

Maddy put on a thoughtful look, eyes toward the ceiling, and said, “No, I don’t think so. That’s why I can drive the way I do and not get a ticket. ”

“I thought it was your little trick of unbuttoning your blouse,” Marc said.

“That too.”

“You want me to lock him up, Maddy?”

“Hmmm. I’ll let you know,” Maddy said. “Can we sneak into Lundgren’s court and avoid the mob?” Maddy asked.

“Do I need to see his ID?” Stan asked.

“He’s with me,” Maddy said.

“Okay, I’ll let him in.”

As they walked down the hallway toward the arraignment court’s back door, Marc asked her, “Having fun?”

Maddy put her arm through his, smiled, said yes, then kissed his cheek.

“We’ll have none of that,” they heard Stan say from behind.

The public seating for the arraignment court was, at least, fifty per cent larger than a normal courtroom. This was to accommodate the lawyers and family members of those being arraigned, especially on a Monday morning. For a midweek, two o’clock afternoon arraignment of one person, the place should be almost empty. Between the media and spectators, every seat was taken. This explained the mob in the hall.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Kadella, are you here for Roberta Craig-Powell?” Marc heard a woman’s voice ask as they entered.

“Hi, Joyce. Yes, I am,” Marc said then handed her a one page document, Certificate of Representation.

“Hi, Maddy,” Joyce, Lundgren’s clerk said.

“Hi, is he in a good mood?” Maddy whispered, meaning Judge Lundgren.

“Yes, I think so. Marc, you’re to go back to see him. You know the prosecutor, Nicole Barnes?”

“I don’t think so,” Marc replied.

“She’s new,” and while Joyce looked at Maddy, said, “and very young and pretty.”

Maddy gave Marc her best ‘behave yourself’ look while pointing fingers at her eyes and then Marc. The ‘I’m watching you’ signal .

Marc, knowing there was nothing he could say that would not get him in trouble, shook his head and went to the back door.

Maddy took a seat at the defense table and smiled for Philo Anson, the Star Tribune reporter who had obtained his usual seat. Front row directly behind the defense table.

“Mr. Kadella!” Judge Lundgren almost yelled. “Please, come in, have a seat, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Marc approached the judge’s desk while a tall, slender young woman stood to greet him. Joyce was right, Nicole Barnes was a looker.

“Have you met Ms. Barnes,” Lundgren asked.

“No, and I would remember.”

“Don’t go there,” Lundgren said. “He’s engaged, Nicole, to a knockout,” Lundgren said.

“Knockout is right, in more ways than one,” Marc said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Kadella. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Nicole said shaking Marc’s hand.

“Oh, oh,” Marc said. “Don’t believe everything Gondeck told you. He’s a biased prosecution lawyer.”

“Have a seat kids. Let’s get at this. You gonna plead insanity?”

“I haven’t even thought about it,” Marc said. “You gonna set bail?”

“We’ll do that on the record,” Lundgren said.

“No offense, Nicole,” Marc said, “but I don’t think you’re gonna first chair this. Do you know who is?”

“No, I don’t. I’m not even sure they’ll let me sit in on it all.

“I have some discovery for you,” she said handing Marc a box of papers she had. “It’s a copy of your client’s diaries.”

There was a knock on the door and a deputy came in.

“Mr. Kadella, your client’s here. She’s at the defense table with Maddy,” he said.

“Thank you,” Marc said. He looked at Lundgren and said, “I swear she knows every cop in the metro area. That’s why she drives like she does and never gets a ticket.”

“Hell, I wouldn’t give her a ticket either,” Lundgren said. “Let’s go. ”

Judge Lundgren went through the formalities of the first appearance. Marc, Robbie and Nicole Barnes stood in front of the bench while he did. He read the only charge so far, one count of second degree murder for the death of Priscilla Powell.

Marc informed the court, for the record, that they had a copy of the complaint and waived reading it.

Nicole served Marc, for the record, appearance documents. She then told the court that he had received some discovery.

Finally, they got around to the real issue, bail. The prosecution went first. Nicole had been instructed to request that bail be disallowed.

“Your Honor, there are other homicides we will be taking to the grand jury for indictment. These victims,” here she looked at Robbie, “were brutally, viciously attacked and murdered by hammer blows to their skull, spilling their brains out.

“This young woman, the defendant, is obviously a clear and present danger to the people of the entire Metro area.”

Here, Marc turned his head to look at Philo. He, and others, were taking notes as quickly as they could. Marc then looked at Robbie who had tears streaming down her face.

“Your Honor, I don’t know if you’ve seen their evidence which will likely be suppressed,” Marc began.

“Objection, speculation,” Nicole said.

“This isn’t a trial, Ms. Barnes. Let him have his say,” Lundgren said.

“It amounts to a hammer that mysteriously appeared in her dorm room at St. Catherine’s. She is no more of a threat to the community than Ms. Barnes is.”

“Your Honor!” Nicole said.

Lundgren waved a hand at her and smiled.

“Does she have means to make bail?” Lundgren asked.

“Depends, what are you thinking?”

“A million cash or bond and she wears an ankle monitor. Do you have a passport?” Lundgren asked Robbie.

Before answering the question, Robbie looked at Marc.

“You can answer,” Marc said.

“No, I don’t, your Honor. ”

“Okay, then, one million dollars, cash or bond.

“To the charge of murder in the second degree, how do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” Robbie quickly said without looking for help from Marc.

“Anything else?” Lundgren asked.

When no one spoke, he moved for adjournment.

* * *

Sitting in an aisle seat of the third row behind the defense table was a familiar courtroom attendee. His name was Ernie Birnbaum and he ran a semi-respectable, lucrative bail bond business. Birnbaum Bail Bonds.

Ernie could also pass for a two or three inch taller twin brother of the actor, Danny Devito. To see Ernie and be told he was a bail bondsman, would surprise no one. He absolutely looked the part.

“We’re gonna get you out,” Blake, who had hurried against the crowd to Marc’s table, told Robbie.

“Okay,” Robbie said.

Maddy stood and gave her a hug. While this occurred, Marc said, “See this fine gentleman coming toward us, he’s going to get you out.”

“We’ll see, Kadella,” Ernie said in a voice that even sounded like Danny Devito. “A million bucks is nothin’ to sneeze at.”

“We have to take her, Mr. Kadella,” the female deputy said.

“We’ll get you out in no time,” Marc said.

“Okay,” Robbie said with a breaking voice.

When Robbie had been led away, Marc spoke to Ernie, “We can collateralize the bond with a two million dollar life insurance policy.”

“Tell me,” Ernie said.

“This is Robbie’s dad, Blake Craig. He has a two million dollar policy on his recently deceased wife…”

“You mean he’s about to get the money?”

“Yes, Ernie,” Marc said .

“He’s guaranteeing the full million, not just the hundred grand…”

“Twenty,” Marc said.

“…cost of the bond. Hundred,” Ernie repeated.

“It’s fully guaranteed,” Marc said. “The easiest twenty you’ll ever make.”

“You have the policy with you?” Ernie asked Blake.

“Yes.”

“I spoke to the insurance company yesterday,” Marc said. “They were waiting until Robbie was charged and not Blake. I’ll call them when I get back to the office. They’ll send the check overnight.

“I tell you what, you go down to twenty and I’ll have the check sent to your office so you can see it,” Marc said.

Maddy stepped up to Ernie, put her hand on his forearm while looking him in the eyes and softly saying, “Please, Ernie.”

Ernie, who looked like he was ready to melt, said, “Okay Maddy. For you, okay, I’ll do fifty.”

“Ernie,” Maddy softly said with her hand still on his arm. “Easiest twenty you’ll ever make.”

“How about forty, I’ll go forty,” Ernie said looking at Maddy.

“Thirty it is,” Maddy said.

“I gotta make a living…” Ernie started to protest looking at Marc. He then looked back at Maddy and caved in.

“Ernie,” she said only this time she puffed out her lower lip just a bit.

“Fine, okay, thirty. I better agree before I end up paying you.”

Maddy leaned down and kissed him on the cheek then said, “You’re a man among men, Ernie.”

“I’m a sucker, is what I am. Have the check sent to my office,” Ernie said.

“I said I’d do that if you came down to twenty, not thirty.”

“You’re killing me, Kadella,” Ernie said.

“How much money did you make off of my clients last year?” Marc asked.

“Never mind.”