Chasing Justice: A Matt Royal Mystery by H. Terrell Griffin

within a square with small circles within the squares. What was that all about? J.D. emailed it to the department geek and asked him to search all the tattoo databases to see if he could find one that matched.

CHAPTER TEN
    The video conference room was small, so the deputies had arranged for the press to use a bigger room down the hall. The video hearing would be transmitted to a large flat screen TV for the reporters and to the TV trucks parked on the street out front. We’d be live on TV screens all over the country. Nothing like a juicy murder story to send the media into a feeding frenzy. This one had all the elements: a resort town, a wealthy developer murdered, a sordid affair, and the wife of a local chief of police charged. Who could resist?
    The video conference room had two tables positioned on either side of the room; one for the prosecution and the other for the defense. A flat screen hung from brackets in the ceiling at the front of the room. Two cameras were positioned so that one was trained on each table. A technician sat at a small console in a corner of the room. He would manipulate the feed from the cameras so that the person talking would be the one the judge saw on his screen. In this instance, he would also be getting a feed from the prosecutor’s office in Jacksonville and the judge’s chambers in Tampa. He told me he would use a split-screen effect so that I could see both the judge and Mr. Swann at the same time. A court reporter sat next to the technician, her steno machine in front of her.
    I had settled into one of the counsel tables and was waiting for the deputies to bring in Abby. I was surprised to see Agent Lucas walk into the room along with a man in his late thirties. Both were wearing suits and the man with Lucas was carrying a briefcase. Lucas saw me and whispered to the other man who came to my table, offering his hand.
    “Mr. Royal, I’m George Swann. I’ll be prosecuting this case.”
    I stood and introduced myself and shook his hand. “I wasn’t expecting you here in person. I thought you’d be on TV.”
    “I thought so too, until I got your motion for bail. I chartered a plane and here I am.”
    “Welcome to paradise,” I said. “I hope we’ll be able to get through this mess on a professional basis.”
    Swann smiled. “I’m sure of it. I’ll be going to a grand jury as soon as we can get one empaneled. You’ll have to get a death case-certified lawyer to take over.”
    Uh, oh, I thought. Looks like we’re going to be comparing genitalia size here. “I’m certified, Mr. Swann. I think I’ll be able to muddle through.”
    He looked surprised, but the smile, or maybe the smirk, was still on his face. “I heard you were retired, living on an island, working as a beach bum.”
    “You heard right.”
    “And you’re going to try a murder case?”
    “Yep. I heard you’ve tried a few and got some verdicts.”
    “I’m twenty-two zip on murder cases. Never lost one.”
    Just what I needed. An arrogant prick. I smiled now, a genuine, you’re-my-best-buddy kind of smile. “Maybe you ought to dismiss this case,” I said. “You’ll be able to preserve your sterling record.”
    He laughed. “I’ve never tried a case against a beach bum. We’ll see.” He walked back to his desk.
    The door in the back of the room opened and a corrections deputy escorted Abby into the room. She was still wearing the jumpsuit and her wrists were cuffed in front of her. She sat at the table and gave me a tired smile. I leaned over and whispered, “Hang tough, Abby.”
    “I’ve got the judge up,” the technician said, and the big screen came to life with the image of the Honorable Wayne Lee Thomas. I’d known Judge Thomas for a number of years, tried a few cases before him back in that other life I’d traded for the beach. He was a good man, a judge who was a stickler for the rules and courtroom decorum, who loved the law, understood it, and brooked no nonsense from those