Free Parker 04 - The Fury by Jason Pinter Page B

awkwardly.
    Rawling was younger than I would have expected for
    a judge, late thirties, with close-cropped blond hair. Her
    face was emotionless as she took her chair. She looked
    at my father for a moment.
    "Be seated," she said, averting her gaze. Chairs and
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    benches squeaked as we obeyed. "Counselor, I'm under
    the impression that Mr. Parker has agreed to sign the
    nonjudicial waiver. Is that correct?"
    The lawyer next to my father stood up, hands at his
    sides. "Yes, Your Honor."
    "Do you have that document present?"
    The bailiff, a hulking bald man, approached the table
    and took the paper from Aaronson. He brought it up to
    Judge Rawling, who put on a pair of reading glasses and
    pored over the sheet. Once finished, she looked up.
    "I now remand James Parker to the custody of the New
    York Police Department, who have a warrant out for Mr.
    Parker's arrest on the charge of murder in the first degree."
    I shuddered as I heard those words. Though my
    father and I had this terrible thing in common, I'd thank
    fully never heard those words uttered. They seemed to
    affect him too, as he turned to the lawyer, eyes open, as
    though expecting the man to suddenly yell surprise and
    remove the handcuffs.
    Rawling continued.
    "Mr. Aaronson, am I also correct in the information
    that two deputies from the NYPD have arrived to take
    Mr. Parker into custody pending a grand jury hearing?"
    "That is correct, Your Honor." So far Aaronson was
    doing a bang-up job.
    "Bailiff," Rawling said, "please show them in."
    The bailiff walked to the double doors at the front of
    the courtroom. He pulled them open, and nodded at
    whoever was waiting outside to follow him. When the
    bailiff reentered, there were two men trailing him. One
    was a young officer, couldn't have been more than
    twenty-four or -five, but with muscles that stretched out
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    his blue uniform. And right behind him, wearing a
    standard suit, to my surprise, was Detective Sevi Mak
    houlian.
    "Your Honor," the bailiff said. "Officer Clark and
    Detective Makhoulian of the NYPD."
    "Thank you, Bailiff. I hereby grant transfer of this
    prisoner into custody of the NYPD for extradition to
    New York City." She looked at the two cops as she
    spoke. "From this point forward James Parker is under
    your responsibility and jurisdiction, in accordance with
    New York State. Gentlemen, thank you for your prompt
    ness in coming out here. Mr. Parker," she said, "you are
    remanded into the custody of these officers."
    The bailiff approached. The three men took my
    father by his cuffs and led him outside. As soon as they
    did, Amanda and I got up and followed.
    "Detective!" I shouted. Makhoulian turned around.
    He looked slightly surprised to see me.
    "Henry," he said.
    "My father's innocent," I blurted. I had no idea how
    he was supposed to respond to that. Maybe part of me
    was hoping he'd simply nod, smack his head and say,
    "Whoops, you're right!"
    Needless to say, that did not happen.
    "Henry, we can talk more in New York. For now, it's
    my job to get your father back to New York safely. All
    you can do is make sure that happens."
    "How can I do that?" I asked.
    "Stay away. Go home. There's nothing more you
    can do right now."
    Then Makhoulian and Officer Clark took my father
    by his manacles and led him away.
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    "There's a computer in the courthouse library,"
    Amanda said. "Let's change our flight home and get the
    next plane out of here. He's right. There's nothing more
    we can do here."
    After a brief goodbye to my mother, we managed to
    book a red-eye from Portland to JFK. I would have
    thought that after everything we'd been through, the
    confrontation with my father, the arrest, the hearing,
    that I would have slept like a baby. And while Amanda's
    head rested comfortably on my shoulder while she
    slept, I was awake the whole flight, my eyes open,
    staring at nothing. Wondering how this had happened.
    When the crew turned off the cabin lights to