ASA Shapiro came rushing across the lobby nearly yelling, “You’re due in front of the judge upstairs in five minutes. Where’s your client?” She shrugged helplessly. “I spoke with her yesterday. I definitely explained that she must be here at eight thirty this morning. I didn’t tell her it was a rehearing on her bail. But I did say it was a condition of her release, and if she didn’t show, she could go back to jail. I phoned her first thing this morning to be certain she was up and getting ready. No answer. I’ve phoned almost continually ever since.” “Well, that sounds clear enough. This better not be one of those Sandy Reid tricks. The judge isn’t happy, and he’s waiting up there. I’m going back up now. You should expect your client to be re-arrested and returned to jail, and there she’ll sit for the rest of her life, if I can manage it.” “Wait, I’ll go up there with you. I’ll explain to the judge that—.” “Explain what? As of this minute, your client’s bond is revoked, an arrest warrant is being prepared, and your client is a fugitive.”
