"Ever since news of Judge Smith's death broke two hours ago, it's been absolute madness,” Pleskin said.“All these cases need to be redistributed, and some of them are time-sensitive, and nobody seems to understand that the justice system doesn't just stop because—" He broke off as one of the folders started to slip.Rachel caught it before it could fall, the manila material rough against her fingers.
Pleskin shot her a grateful look as he deposited his burden onto a desk that was already overflowing with papers.The office they'd entered was clearly in transition, with boxes stacked in corners and post-it notes everywhere, creating a colorful constellation of reminders and deadlines.A half-empty coffee cup sat forgotten on a windowsill, a lipstick stain on its rim suggesting it belonged to someone else.The room smelled of paper and toner and the particular brand of desperation that came with trying to maintain order in the face of chaos.
“We just need a few moments to ask about Judge Smith,” Novak said.
"What do you need to know?"Pleskin asked, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.He remained standing, his body language suggesting he was ready to bolt for the next crisis at any moment.
"What kind of man was Judge Smith?"Rachel asked, deliberately keeping her tone casual."Both personally and professionally?"
Pleskin considered this, absently straightening one of the stacks of folders.His hands seemed unable to stay still, constantly organizing, arranging, as if he could create order through sheer repetitive motion."He was...precise.Some people called him rigid, but that wasn't quite right.He believed in the letter of the law.Believed in it absolutely.Which some saw as honorable while others…well, not so much."
"Meaning he wasn't interested in making exceptions?"Rachel pressed.
"He used to say that exceptions were how justice became a privilege.That if you bent the rules for one person, you had to bend them for everyone, and then they weren't rules anymore."Pleskin's hands kept moving as he talked, organizing, straightening, as if he couldn't bear to be still.A paper clip skittered off the desk and landed with a tiny ping on the floor.Neither of them moved to pick it up."But he wasn't cruel about it.He'd explain his reasoning to people, make sure they understood why he ruled the way he did.Sometimes they'd leave his courtroom angry, but they always knew exactly why he'd ruled the way he had."
The way he rattled all of this off made Rachel think that Bob Pleskin had greatly cared for Judge Smith.But in the craziness of work that had occurred after the new of his death had come through the building, he was choosing to focus on work rather that grief.She wondered how much longer it would be before he escaped to the men’s room to have good, long cry.
"Did that approach earn him any enemies?"Rachel watched Pleskin's face carefully."Any high-profile cases that might have made someone angry enough to want revenge?"
Pleskin shook his head, the motion slightly too quick to be entirely convincing."I’ve been wondering that exact same thing.But there’s nothing…nothing major, anyway.We'd get the occasional angry phone call or letter, usually over traffic violations or minor civil disputes.There was one case involving a restraining order against an abusive uncle that got a bit heated, but even that..."He trailed off, distracted by a paper that had slipped to the floor.This time he did bend to retrieve it, using the motion to break eye contact.
"Can you tell us more about—" Rachel started, but her phone interrupted with a sharp ring.The screen showed the saved number of the coroner's office.
"Wow, that was fast," she said."I'm sorry.Excuse me, Mr.Pleskin."
“Of course.”
She answered the call with a bit of hope in her voice.“You’ve got something already?”
"Well, some of these findings didn't take much searching," came the response, something in the tone making Rachel's stomach tighten.“Yes, we have a few preliminary findings.I can give them to you over the phone, but you may want to see this for yourself.”
“Understood.Give us twenty minutes.”
She ended the call and turned to Pleskin, also eyeing Novak at the same time."Thank you for your time, Mr.Pleskin.We'll be in touch if we have any other questions."
“Please do.I’m happy to help however I can.”
As they left the office, Rachel could hear Pleskin already on another call, his voice rising with barely contained frustration as he tried to explain something about filing deadlines to someone who clearly wasn't grasping the urgency.The sound followed them down the hallway, a soundtrack to the controlled collapse of one man's ordered world.
“That was the coroner,” Rachel said.
“What did they find?”
“I don’t know.He said it’s something we probably need to see for ourselves.”
“That sounds…ominous,” Novak said.
Rachel nodded, her mind already racing ahead to what they might learn.They descended the stairs in silence, and Rachel could feel the case starting to take shape.For most cases, she could usually tell when things were going to truly start escalating…and she felt a bit of that as they reached the lobby, passing by the lackadaisical security guard again.
But she also knew that the escalation of a case didn’t necessarily mean things would go their way.In fact, more often than not, the opposite tended to be true.And unless they started hunting down some real answers, the case could easily get away from them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Rachel pulled her coat tighter as she and Novak crossed the parking lot of the county coroner's office.December had arrived with a vengeance, bringing crystalline skies and bitter winds that bit through clothing no matter how many layers one wore.The morning sun cast long shadows across the frost-covered pavement, creating a deceptively picturesque scene that seemed almost obscene given their destination.
"Strange weather for viewing a dead body," Novak remarked, his breath visible in the cold air."Almost too nice, you know."
Rachel nodded, understanding exactly what he meant.She appreciated the sentimentality of it, but she thought the cold air was somehow fitting for what they were about to do.Also, she did have to admit that there was something unsettling about the cheerfulness of the morning—like a grinning mask hiding something sinister beneath.They reached the entrance, and Rachel noticed her reflection in the glass doors of the entrance to the building: tired eyes, hair whipped by the wind, and a tension in her jaw she hadn't realized was there.