Decker looked at the two clerks. “How long have you worked for the judge?”
Angstrom said, “I’ve been here nearly a year.”
“I came on four months ago,” replied Sykes. “The clerk before me got married and moved out of the area.”
“And there’s nothing on her docketnowthat might have prompted threats?” asked Decker.
“Nothing unusual,” answered Sykes, and Angstrom nodded.
“Has she had any visitors here that seemed out of the ordinary?” asked White.
Caine answered. “No, nothing like that. Visitors here are usually family and friends or professional colleagues.”
“And nothing since the RICO case?” said Decker.
“No,” said Angstrom.
“Where’s the judge’s secretary?” asked White.
“She called in sick today,” said Sykes.
Decker looked at Caine. “We’ll need her home address.”
He said, “Her name’s Patty Kelly. She’s been here for over two decades. Sharp as a tack.”
“Good, maybe she can give us some sharp answers,” said Decker. He looked at the clerks. “In the meantime, if you can send the judge’s current docket to Agent Andrews? Filings, motions, case summaries.”
“Criminal or civil?” asked Sykes.
“Both. People kill over money as much as they do anything else.”
“Straightaway,” said Sykes.
Caine said, “Should I post extra security over the other judges? They’ve been informed, of course, and I can tell they’re worried.”
Decker said, “I’m not going to tell you how to do your job, Marshal, but some extra guards can’t hurt.”
“Right.”
“Now, we’d like to see her chambers.”
Caine led them inside, and Decker stood in the middle of the room and looked around. It was large, befitting the stature of a federal judge: lots of polished wood, bookcases, a large desk, comfortable chairs. Decker looked over the photos on her desk. Several of Tyler at various ages. One frame held a handmade card with a funny face on it and a “I love you Mommy,” scribbled in a young child’s penmanship. Obviously, Tyler again. There were no photos of Barry Davidson.
In another frame were Cummins, Doris Kline, and another woman.
“Any idea who the third person is?” said Decker, holding it up.
“That’s Maya Perlman,” answered Caine. “She practiced before this court. Never before Judge Cummins, of course, because they were friends. She retired about a year ago.”
“You know her?”
“Oh yes. Like I said, she had cases here, lots of them. So she was at the courthouse a good deal. Really nice woman, and a very fine lawyer.”
“What was her practice?”
“Criminal defense.”
“Interesting.” Decker eyed the desktop computer. “Cummins’s laptop and phone were at the house, correct?”