"WILHELM, KATE - JUSTICE FOR SOME" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilhelm Kate)

It was May, but Pendleton, Oregon, could be an inferno in May, or it
could snow. This year, hell was winning.

If it were snowing she would be even more dissatisfied; what she really
wanted was idyllic May weather, storybook, poetry May weather.

She let the Venetian blind close again when she heard the door opening
behind her. Her fingers felt dirty. The building was air-conditioned,
but the blinds were always gritty, there was always pale grit on the
desk, on every flat surface, on her fingers now. She couldn't understand
how it got inside, not just here in the courthouse, but in her house, in
the car, everywhere.

"They're ready," her secretary, Beatrice Wordley, said.

When Sarah turned to face her, she caught the gleam of delight in
Beatrice's eyes. "Damnit all," she said, going to her desk for a tissue.
Beatrice nodded. She had been with Blaine and Sarah when they were in
private practice, then with Blaine here in the courthouse, and now with
Sarah, altogether for nearly twenty years. Her expression of glee said
clearly that she knew as well as Sarah that Homer Wickham was not
willing to give any woman the authority to tell him the time of day, and
that Homer Wickham was due for a surprise. Sarah wiped her hands, tossed
the tissue into the waste can, and stepped into the hall outside her
door.

She entered the conference room next to her office, and nodded
pleasantly to the small group already there, two attorneys, and Mr. and
Mrs. Wickham, who wanted to kill each other. The conference room was
opulent compared to the office. Blaine had kept his surroundings nearly
barren, nothing that wasn't absolutely essential had been allowed, and
she had done little to change that. But the conference room had
old-fashioned furniture, overstuffed chairs and sofas, a long scarred
table with ladderback chairs, ferns in pots. The ferns kept dying
because the humidity was too low, but when they looked terminal, new
ones appeared; the old brown plants vanished as if by magic.

Everyone in the little group awaiting her had been sitting upright,
stiffly uncomfortable in the comfortable chairs. The two attorneys had
risen with Sarah's entrance, and belatedly Johnny Weber hauled Mr.
Wickham to his feet. Mrs. Wickham glared at her husband and then nodded
to Sarah. Sarah sat in her own chair and said, "Thank you for coming. I
wanted this informal conference before the hearing in order to make a
suggestion. Mr. Weber, Mr. Howell, please understand that this is an
informal proceeding."

The attorneys nodded.

"It is agreed that Mr. and Mrs. Wickham are exemplary parents, and the