Two Months Later: Chicago Courtroom - 2nd Floor

Lowry Kane

I thought I had going to prison in the bag until about seven seconds ago, when the judge turned on the prosecuting lawyer, yelling about how bogus this case was, and why was she wasting her time sitting in a room with so-called professionals that didn't know how to do their jobs?

Ouch. You couldn't recover from a blow like that.

I snuck a glance at my lawyer, who was wringing his hands and sweating like a glass of water on a hot day. I had to save this case right now, or I'd never make it to jail. And heaven knew my leg couldn't take that.

I raised my hand hesitantly, stopping the fuming judge in mid-sentence. "Yes, Mr. Kane?" She said heavily. I drew in a breath. "Come on, Your Honor. I confessed! Twice! What more evidence do you need? Slap on the cuffs and take me to the cells!" The judge shot me an angry look. "Mr. Kane, you took three dollars and a pack of Mentos from a store. You don't have a criminal record whatsoever, you didn't harm anyone or leave any trace. And no offense, but you're practically 80. You don't belong in prison!"

I smoothed down my thinning white hair and shrugged the sleeves of my jacket over my withered hands. Did I really look 80?" The judge knew to hit where it hurt.

"Your Honor!" I whined. "You need to put me in jail. What, are you going to let a ferocious beast like me out to tear up the streets? Think about the innocent public!" I made a last attempt. The judge slanted her eyes toward me warily. "Is there any particular reason you want to spend time in a jail cell, Mr. Kane?"

I smiled, just a bit. "Actually, Your Honor, there is an excellent reason." My lawyer was practically melting into water in his suit. "Don't do this, Lowry." he warned through clenched teeth. I happily ignored him, and continued on for the judge. "Because this is a fairly small town, tiny, actually, I assume you've heard about the problem with my leg, Judge?" When she nodded, I dragged on, a bit more dramatic than I should have been. "I have six months to live, Your Honor! Six months! If I don't get that new breakthrough surgery soon, then I'll die. I've tried everything. Loans, medical companies. The surgery is too expensive! Nothing will cover it. A short time ago, I heard from an-ahhhm, friend, that the state prisons have to pay for their prisoners medical costs. It's the only way."

The whole room was deathly quiet. The judge sighed, and hit her gavel hard on the wood. "Silence!" She roared, which was a bit unnecessary. "Let's give this case a go. But nothing too melodramatic. I have a life, too, you know." She grumbled. I grinned. One last shot.

"Will Rajeev Parambi please come up to the stand?" The judge asked. A small, quirky looking Indian man nodded, and walked quickly to the pedestal. The judge shot a look at the lawyers. "I'd like to ask him a few questions myself, gentleman." The lawyers bobbed their heads meekly. Never mess with a woman that has access to a gavel.

"Mr. Parambi, what time did Mr. Kane come into your store that day?" The judge asked. Mr. Parambi shrugged. "I think about 10:45, give-take a few minutes." "What did Mr. Kane do?"

The Indian thought for a moment. "He came in very calmly, and I greeted him. I know his daughter well, you see. I was the only person in the store. I went back to adding the month's totals when Mister Lowry said, almost pleadingly. 'Give me some money.' I took a step back, although not unduly threatened. He was an old man, for pete's sake! So I ask, 'How much?' and Mister Lowry say ,'Three dollar.' So I open the cash register and give him three dollar."

"Then he still standing there, so I ask nicely, 'You have gun, Meester Lowry?' And he say, 'Yeah, of course.' I doubtful, so I tell him to show me. Turns out he have no gun!" Mr. Parambi was laughing hard now. "Then I ask him why he wanted three dollar, and he tell me, 'I'm robbing the place, of course!' Then he do the strangest thing. He give me a card with his adress and phone number on it, and on the top of this white card it says. 'Lowry Kane, master thief.' Mister Lowry tell me to call 911 and when the police come, to give them is card. I could barely understand him, because then I was almost on the floor laughing. Lowry start to look impatient, so I tell him to take a pack of Mentos also, to make the robbery sound more convincing." The Indian man stopped, and turned toward the judge. "Do you have the card?" She asked. He nodded, and handed the white slip of paper to the Judge, who, very unprofessionally, burst out laughing. When she had calmed down, the whole room was staring at her, wide-eyed. The judge rolled her eyes. "Tell me what happened next!" She snapped aware of the stares.

"I don't call the police right away, because I not worried. I think it is funny. I replace the three dollar and the 50 cent Mentos that I gave him out of money from my own wallet, then I go back to counting the totals. I consider $3.50 of my own money a small price to pay for such hilarity." He finished.

The judge started wrapping things up. "So, the three dollars that was taken and the money for the mints was put back?" She smirked. Mr. Parambi nodded. "And were you scared at all during the situation?" The judge asked. This time, the man shook his head. The judge broke out in a smile. "Then I my ruling is no prison time for Mr. Kane."

I hung my head. Darn store worker. I knew I should have come at a different shift. Maybe on Cassidy Burke's shift. Girls are always more emotional. I bet good old Cass would have call the police right away.

Everyone started filing out of the room. Before leaving her stand, the judge called out to me. "By the way, Lowry. Sorry on not making it to prison." She said. I smiled a small, devious smile.

"No worries, Your Honor. I'll be back soon."