Rawlins was smiling absurdly at Casey's frazzled state. His eyes, like the extensive gold dental work that filled the back of his mouth, sparkled with malicious delight.

"How can I help you, Ms. Jordan?" he drawled. His accent, like his political connections, was old Texas.

"You can commute Catalina Enos's sentence," she said flatly, taking a seat in the shadow of the wall even though none had been offered.

"Please, sit down," Rawlins said sarcastically. "Now why would I want to do that, Ms. Jordan?"

"Because if you do, you won't have to go through the embarrassment of having a mistrial declared at the appellate level," Casey said without bothering to hide her disdain. Rawlins was an age-old enemy and each of them knew where the other stood.

"I don't believe that's a concern of mine," he said complacently. "Oliver Wendell Holmes himself was turned over on appeal several times, and I don't believe it damaged his credibility very much."

Casey snorted at the mention of the great justice's name in the chambers of someone as tawdry as Van Rawlins.

"I believe Chief Justice Holmes was overturned in his younger days only on points of law," Casey said. "I believe it would have done him a great deal of discredit to be overturned for a procedural error."

"And what procedural error would we be talking about?" Rawlins asked, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, goading her.

"I had a legitimate reason for not being at the conclusion of that trial and you know it. The precedent is clear. A defendant cannot be put at a disadvantage if her lawyer missed part of the trial because of an ice storm."

"Oh, I think the substance of the trial was quite over by that time," Rawlins replied. "The closing argument wasn't much more than a wart on a toad's ass. Justice was served in my mind, Ms. Jordan. And if you were so damned concerned with your client, I think you would have made it a priority to be there.