TWENTY-NINE
The morning brought a slight frost that lay like a silver blanket on the garden outside her window. Judge Matthews sat in the study in her grand home, using the time to catch up on things before everyone rose from their slumber. Sitting at her desk, she sipped her first coffee of the day while news blared from a large wall-mounted flat-screen television. The office was large and modern, with plenty of windows for natural light. As she went through her e-mails, something in the news report grabbed her attention: it was about a shootout in an old disused tenement building.
Eyewitnesses explained how they saw armed men rush into the building and open fire on someone, and the reporter told how “person or persons unknown immobilised the men by shooting out their knees.”
Matthews
