PI On A Hot Tin Roof

though.”
    “Who cares? It’s a prescription drug.”
    “Yeah, but you could argue he was taking it when he made important decisions.”
    “That’s not gon’ get us anywhere,” Eddie grumbled. “Whatcha drinking?”
    “White wine,” Ms. Wallis said.
    “Bourbon for me,” said Angie, and Eddie said, “Make it two.”
    “You two are not going to believe what I’ve got.”
    “Am I off the hook?” Angie asked.
    “Well, that’s the bad news. I haven’t got that piece yet. But Buddy’s definitely dirty. He’s dirty and lazy and so incompetent we could get him thrown off the bench tomorrow.”
    “Lazy?” Eddie raised his voice. “Lazy? Since when’s it a crime to be lazy, specially in Louisiana.” As he saw his associate’s face relax into an I’m-going-to-enjoy-this expression, he realized the trap he’d fallen into. It was never a good idea to give Ms. Wallis an opening like that.
    “What if you’re a judge and you’re so lazy you phone in court?” she asked smugly.
    He tried to process what she was saying. “Go on,” he said.
    “He didn’t go to work yesterday. Just sat back in his office and called his clerk and said he was going to hold court from home that day. The lawyers made their arguments over the phone, and he ruled over the phone. And that’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
    “Wait a minute. Hold it. How could you hear all that?”
    “I was making up his bed. His office is just off the bedroom.”
    The back of his neck was pouring sweat. Ms. Wallis was honest to a fault—on most things. But he didn’t completely believe her when she said she never resorted to illegal listening devices. She knew way too much and she was way too sure about what she knew. But if she was lying, she wasn’t about to admit it if he asked her. “How’d you hear what was happening on the other end?”
    “He left the speaker phone on, can you believe it? Miz Clara was right when she told me nobody notices a maid. Anyhow, I was pretty quiet—I’m not even sure he knew I was in there.” She sipped her wine and gave him a don’t-mess-with-me look. “Easy enough to prove, anyhow. Plenty of witnesses—the clerk, the reporter, both lawyers…”
    “All right, all right.” He was thinking it over, wondering if it was possible. And in his heart, he knew it was—that he’d probably even witnessed something similar a few times. The truth was, there were plenty of stories about judges not showing up for court. He could think of one or two who were notorious for it; their clerks really ran their courts.
    He knew perfectly well you couldn’t really hold court on the phone. Yet here was what he’d seen: lawyers waiting to argue, witnesses waiting to testify—Eddie among them—and then the clerk would come out and say the judge was on the phone, and the two lawyers would disappear into chambers. Presumably they’d argue their motions or have their status conferences with a judge sitting by his pool—maybe even on the beach in Florida—while they sweated in the courthouse. It had always pissed Eddie off. Personally, he loved the idea of someone getting caught at it—but it didn’t solve the problem at hand.
    “So you can make Jane Storey’s day,” he said. “It ain’t right, but it doesn’t make him dirty.”
    “What about if I told you Harry Nicasio sent over two hams for his Mardi Gras party, and some guys to help him set up?”
    “Harry the bail bondsman?”
    “That Harry.”
    Eddie pondered. “Guess I’d say it doesn’t look too good. But I got a problem with it—who’d sell himself for a coupla hams?”
    “What do you bet it’s the tip of the iceberg?”
    “And how do we get to the base of said ‘berg’?”
    “Well, I was thinking of handing that part over to Jane Storey. He’s got to be doing favors for Nicasio—she can probably run it down pretty easily. Oh, and I overheard another conversation—with Evan Farley, about the story Farley couldn’t write about Angie. No specifics, but something smells there. Did you get anything, Eddie?”
    Eddie shifted. “Yeah, I got something. Custody case. Farley’s trying to get his kid back from his ex-wife. And guess who the judge is?”
    “Come on,” Angie said. “That’s a really blatant conflict of interest.”
    “Uh-huh. Oughta be enough to get Farley off the story, anyhow. But we need proof Buddy set you up if we’re gon’ get the charges dropped.” He turned to Ms. Wallis.