The Judgment by D. W. Buffa
When Calvin Jeffries's physique is found within the courthouse parking storage, eyes widen and horrified tongues wag. The truth that Jeffries was a totally reprehensible human being doesn't detract from the notoriety of the first homicide of a sitting Oregon judge. Defense lawyer extraordinaire Joe Antonelli has a long history with Jeffries. Years in the past the choose threw him into jail for contempt in a vain attempt to discourage Antonelli from profitable one more case. But certainly one of Antonelli's colleagues suffered even more. As the curious Antonelli items together fragments of the legendary choose's past, he discovers that Jeffries apparently drove Elliott Winston insane, had him dedicated, and married his wife. If only Elliott weren't still securely in the psychiatric hospital, what a sterling suspect he'd make!
But the police discover the killer, a homeless man with the homicide weapon and a willingness to admit, who promptly commits suicide after being taken into custody. The legal community breathes a sigh of relief--until a second decide is murdered in the same manner. When one other homeless man is arrested, Antonelli's "weird coincidence" antennae begin to quiver, and he affords his providers to the defendant. So convinced is he of Danny's innocence that he plunges undercover into the vagrant's world, searching for evidence of a setup. But his discoveries appear to point on to the not possible--for how might Elliott Winston, safely tucked behind bars, be the murderer?
In some unspecified time in the future during The Judgment (the precise moment will range in keeping with individual tolerance), you might end up putting the guide apart and choosing up an Elmore Leonard for an emergency infusion of quality dialogue. Along with everyone with whom he is available in contact, Antonelli suffers from an obvious speech obstacle that often makes him sound like a particularly pompous nineteenth-century pundit.
When creator D.W. Buffa lets his courtroom savvy take middle stage, the novel moves along briskly (even though Antonelli takes some moderately exceptional authorized liberties, it's all in good fun). The subplot involving the return of Antonelli's high-school sweetheart, nevertheless, feels much less integral than afterthought-ish. Though Buffa tries to tie every thing collectively on the finish with a heavily contrived twist that most likely set O. Henry yawning in his grave, the novel's final word isn't one in all ringing irony. It's more like a dull thud.
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