The Concrete Blonde (hb-3)

scheduling conflict has prevented Ms. Chandler from being here. Mr. Daly, a fine lawyer, has agreed to sit in her stead. I understand from the marshal that you have reached a verdict.”
    Several of the twelve heads nodded. Bosch finally saw one man look at him. But then he looked away. Bosch could feel his heart pounding and he was unsure if it was because of the impending verdict or the disappearance of Honey Chandler. Or both.
    “Can I have the verdict forms, please?”
    The jury foreman handed a thin stack of papers to the marshal who handed them to the clerk who handed them to the judge. It was excruciating to watch. The judge had to put on a pair of reading glasses and then took his time studying the papers. Finally, he handed the papers back to the clerk and said, “Publish the verdict.”
    The clerk did a rehearsal reading in her head first and then began.
    “In the above entitled matter on the question of whether defendant Hieronymus Bosch did deprive Norman Church of his civil rights to protection against unlawful search and seizure, we find for the plaintiff.”
    Bosch didn’t move. He looked across the room and saw that now all the jurors were looking at him. His eyes turned to Deborah Church and he saw her grab the arm of the man next to her, even though she didn’t know him, and smile. She was turning that smile triumphantly toward Bosch when Belk grabbed his arm.
    “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “It’s the damages that count.”
    The clerk continued.
    “The jury hereby awards to the plaintiff in compensatory damages the amount of one dollar.”
    Bosch heard Belk whisper a gleeful “Yes!” under his breath.
    “In the matter of punitive damages, the jury awards the plaintiff the amount of one dollar.”
    Belk whispered it again, only this time loud enough to be heard in the gallery. Bosch looked at Deborah Church just as the triumph dropped out of her smile and her eyes turned dead. It all seemed surrealistic to Bosch, as if he were observing a play but was actually on the stage with the actors. The verdict meant nothing to him. He just watched everybody.
    Judge Keyes began his thank-you speech to the jury, telling them how they had performed their Constitutional duties and should be proud to have served and to be Americans. Bosch tuned it out and just sat there. Sylvia came to mind and he wished he could tell her.
    The judge banged down the gavel and the jury filed out for the last time. Then he left the bench and Bosch thought he might have had an annoyed look on his face.
    “Harry,” Belk said. “It’s a damn good verdict.”
    “Is it? I don’t know.”
    “Well, it’s a mixed verdict. But essentially the jury found what we already admitted to. We said you made mistakes going in like you did but you already had been reprimanded by your department for that. The jury found as a matter of law that you should not have kicked down the door like that. But in awarding only two dollars they were saying they believed you. Church made the furtive move. And Church was the Dollmaker.”
    He patted Bosch’s back. He was probably waiting for Harry to thank him but it didn’t come.
    “What about Chandler?”
    “Well, there’s the rub, so to speak. The jury found for the plaintiff so we are going to have to pick up her tab. She’ll probably ask for about one-eighty, maybe two hundred. We’ll probably settle it for ninety. It’s not bad, Harry. Not at all.”
    “I gotta go.”
    Bosch stood up and waded through a clot of people and reporters to get out of the courtroom. He moved quickly to the escalator and once on started fumbling to get the last cigarette out of his pack. Bremmer jumped on the step behind him, his notebook out and ready.
    “Congrats, Harry,” he said.
    Bosch looked at him. The reporter seemed sincere.
    “For what? They said I’m some kind of a Constitutional goon.”
    “Yeah, but you walk away two bucks light. That ain’t bad.”
    “Yeah, well...”
    “Well, any comment on the record? I take it ‘Constitutional goon’ was off, right?”
    “Yeah, I’d appreciate that. Uh, tell you what, let me think for a while. I’ve gotta go but I’ll call you later. Why don’t you go back up and talk to Belk. He needs to see his name in the paper.”
    Outside he lit the cigarette and pulled the rover out of his pocket.
    “Edgar, you up?”
    “Here.”
    “How is it?”
    “Better come on out, Harry. Everybody’s rolling on it.”
    Bosch threw the cigarette in the ash