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The elevator door opened on the 16 th floor of the Government Center. Marc, Maddy and Robbie stepped off. Once again the crowd of semi-professional court watchers in the hall was too deep to wade through. Maddy led them to the back entrance security doors and buzzed for a deputy.

A deputy sheriff, a former high school teacher double-dipping for a second pension answered. She opened the locked door, took a quick look at the crowd then smiled.

“Hi, Maddy,” she said.

“Hey, Gloria. Can we sneak in the back way?” Maddy asked.

“Sure, come on,” Gloria said then looked at Marc. “Even you cause you’re with her.”

Marc looked at Maddy who said, “Don’t ask. Yes, she knows me. Come on.”

Marc checked in with Judge Malcolm Foster’s clerk then joined Maddy and Robbie at the defense table. Before he sat down, Marc looked over the packed gallery. He went to the rail then leaned down in front of a reporter to talk.

“How do you do this? How do you always manage to get a seat in the front row?”

Philo Anson, a reporter for the number one Minnesota newspaper, took a sneaky look around before answering.

“You want the truth?” Philo asked.

“If you say, ‘you can’t handle the truth’ I’ll have you kicked out of here,” Marc said referring to a famous movie line.

Philo leaned forward and whispered, “I bribe one of the deputies.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Marc said then went back to the table.

They were appearing before the judge assigned to handle Robbie’s case through trial. His name was Malcolm Foster; a sixty-three-year-old black man with seven years on the bench.

A former partner in the third largest law firm in Minnesota, Marc had two previous cases before him. The first was a member of a biker gang running a stolen car ring. He received three to five in Stillwater prison. The second was a felony domestic assault he handled as a favor to Connie. He got the client a good deal. Six months’ work release in the Hennepin County Workhouse. The biker who was headed to prison was delighted with Marc. The violent husband, who got off easy, was furious with him. Welcome to criminal defense.

Robbie’s arraignment on the indictment for five counts of first-degree murder was scheduled for 2:00 P.M . At 1:50, the prosecution team arrived through the same back door that Marc did. Of course, Marc already knew who was assigned.

The lead prosecutor was a man Marc knew going back to law school. His name was Thomas Hughes. Marc first ran into him as an opponent in the moot court competition between Marc’s school and the University of Minnesota Law School.

Marc and his moot court partner, now a judge in Dakota County, won their case. Ever since then, Hughes continued to carry a large chip on his shoulder. Marc knew this and was quietly amused at the childishness of the man’s ego.

The second chair for the prosecution was a woman Marc did not know at all. Her name was Celia Raines. Marc made a note to have Tony Carvelli find out about her through Tony’s cop buddies.

Marc stood up, shook hands with Hughes as they cordially greeted each other. Marc could not help sneaking a peek at the shorter, younger man’s receding hairline and expanding waistline.

Hughes introduced Marc to Celia Raines, a very pretty black woman still in her mid-twenties. When Marc sat down again, Maddy leaned over––Robbie was between them––to speak to Marc.

“She’s really pretty,” Maddy whispered.

Marc, looking straight ahead so as not to make eye contact said, “Oh, really? I didn’t notice.”

This elicited a loud laugh from Maddy. She playfully punched Marc in the shoulder while saying, “That was pretty good. Nice try.”

Marc looked at Robbie and said, “Like she never notices other men. ”

Robbie smiled for the first time, looked at Maddy who straightened up, lifted her head and haughtily said, “That’s true. I don’t ever look at other men.”

This caused Robbie to laugh, which helped her relax.

Judge Foster announced the case name and number then took a minute to address the crowd. With a serious judge expression, he acknowledged the media interest and the crowds this case would attract. Decorum would be strictly enforced.

Foster looked at both tables then held his hands out, palms up.

“Please rise,” he said. “Starting with council for the state, please note your appearance.”

After the lawyers gave their names for the record, Foster looked at Marc and asked, “The woman at your table, Mr. Kadella?”

“Her name is Madeline Rivers. She is a licensed investigator who is working for me on this case. Her presence helps to comfort my client who is a bit nervous, never having been in any situation like this. I took the liberty of having Ms. Rivers here today. I didn’t think the court would mind.”

“That’s fine. No problem. She doesn’t go by Madeline Kadella?” Foster asked with a sly smile. “Yes, Mr. Kadella, I know who she is, you lucky dog.”

“Not yet, your Honor,” Maddie answered. “I still have time to think about it.”

“Ms. Craig,” Foster said to Robbie, “have you received a copy of the indictment?”

Robbie looked at Marc, who nodded slightly.

“Yes, your Honor,” Robbie said.

“We’ll waive reading of the indictment, your Honor,” Marc said.

“Very well,” Foster said. “Ms. Craig, do you understand there are five counts of first-degree murder in the indictment?”

“Yes, your Honor,” Robbie was barely able to say.

Foster then went over Robbie’s various constitutional rights and asked if she understood them.

“Yes, your Honor.”

“How do you plead to the charges contained in the indictment. ”

For the first time Robbie spoke firmly, clearly and with authority. “Not guilty.”

“Very well, so entered. Mr. Hughes, anything?”

“The state would like to revisit bail, your Honor,” he replied.

“Why? Nothing’s changed,” Marc blurted out.

“Mr. Kadella, address the court,” Foster said.

“Sorry, your Honor.”

Hughes continued by saying, “Bail was set on a single charge of second degree murder for the death of the defendant’s mother, Priscilla Powell. She now has five counts of first degree which is certainly much more serious. Her incentive to flee is significantly higher.”

“Possibly,” Marc said without waiting for the judge’s permission. “But their case, as thin as it was, has not gotten any better. Plus, there is no reason to believe she will run. If anything, bail was set too high, with Judge Lundgren being told first degree indictments were coming.”

“Your Honor, if I may,” Hughes started to say.

“No, you may not,” Foster said. “I’ve heard nothing to indicate bail should be changed. If you find something, we can revisit it.”

“Unless she runs,” Hughes said.

“You’ve presented no evidence to indicate that is more likely now. Anything else? No? Okay, come up, please, just the lawyers.”

When the three lawyers reached the bench, Foster told his court reporter they were off the record.

With his white noise machine blocking their conversation, Foster quietly asked, “Mr. Kadella, you don’t have to tell me of course, but are you thinking about an insanity plea?”

“You’re right, your honor, I don’t have to tell you, yet,” Marc replied.

“Scheduling. I want a scheduling conference next week. We can do it by phone. Today is Wednesday. How about next Tuesday, the eighteenth? Everybody available?”

All three acknowledged they were.

“Okay, let’s say nine o’clock, Tuesday morning the eighteenth. Agreed? ”

They answered in the affirmative after which the lawyers went back to their respective table.

Foster read the scheduling date and time into the record then checked his calendar.

“I have March tenth open for an omnibus hearing,” Foster said. “It’s a Monday within the twenty-eight day requirement. I’ll set aside the entire day.

“Mr. Hughes, any reason to believe it will take longer?” Foster asked.

“No, that should be sufficient, your Honor,” Hughes answered.

“Mr. Kadella?”

“That’s fine, your Honor,” Marc said.

“Anything else?”

Neither party responded, which allowed Judge Foster to adjourn.