Part 6

"Wait a minute!" the judge yelled. "In a minute you'll be trying to tell me this Pillsworth is a saint." He coughed excitedly. "I'm pleased that you've all decided to incriminate yourselves, but you still haven't succeeded in clearing Pillsworth. There are still the charges of jail breaking and jewel robbery." He levelled his gaze on Marc. "What have you got to say to that?"

* * * * *

Marc's interest, however, had been diverted by Hotstuff, who, for the past several minutes had been staring with unbroken fascination at Mario. Overlooking Hotstuff's begonia infested shorts, Marc followed the pickpocket's gaze across the courtroom.

The first thing Marc noticed was that Mario was not comfortable under Hotstuff's curious stare. The second was a large birthmark, roughly the shape of an eagle, on Mario's forearm.

"My word!" Marc murmured.

"Mr. Pillsworth!" the judge said. "Would you mind giving your attention to the court?"

"Oh, yes, your honor," Marc said, "I was just noticing the birthmark on Mr. Matalini's arm. Its resemblance to an eagle is remarkable."

"Birthmark?" the judge said, glancing at Mario. "What birthmark?"

"Well, judge," Marc said, "you can't see it. But with my eyes the way they are...."

"Mayfair Marvin!" Hotstuff ejaculated loudly. "Well, I'll be damned!"

"You be quiet!" the judge said. "No one asked you anything."

"But I'm telling you something!" Hotstuff said excitedly. "That guy is Mayfair Marvin with a dye job and a moustache. He's one of the hottest international jewel thieves in the racket!"

"What!" the judge said. "Isn't there anyone innocent in this court?"

Mario, who had suddenly lost his ruddy complexion, edged toward the exit. "That's preposterous!" he said.

"Yeah?" Hotstuff drawled. "Let's check that birthmark with the official descriptions." He turned to Julie. "If you want to know where your jewelry is, lady, just ask this bum."

Stricken, Julie turned to Mario, who refused to meet her gaze.

"How about it, Marvin?" Hotstuff said. "Do you fork over the rocks or do I tell the court about that job in London when...."

"All right!" the bogus Mario said weakly. He turned to Julie. "If you look under the hedge at the end of the drive you'll find your jewelry buried there. I meant to come back for it later, after a fortuitous call to the bedside of my dying mother."

"Sergeant Feeney," the judge said, "grab that man and have him locked up."

"Yes, your honor," Sergeant Feeney said and, taking Mario by the arm, relievedly escorted him from the room. As he did so, Julie buried her face in her hands and began to cry.

"There!" Toffee said elatedly, turning to the judge, "you see? There goes another charge!"

"There's still the one of jail breaking," the judge said spitefully. "It simply means that the charges, instead of being centralized with one man, are now more evenly distributed. In a minute now I'm going to start throwing sentences around here like rice at a wedding. The lot of you--with the exception of Mrs. Pillsworth--can start planning a nice long retirement."

* * * * *

As the judge leaned down to study and rearrange the reports before him, Toffee turned quickly to Marc.

"Do you still have the elixir?" she asked.

"Huh?" Marc said, his eyes on Julie.

"The elixir," Toffee said. "Give it to me!"

"Oh, that," Marc murmured. He reached into his pocket, extracted the partially filled bottle and handed it over. "Here."

"Thanks," Toffee said. She advanced happily to the bench and stood for a moment gazing soulfully into the judge's scowling countenance.

"If you need some help," she said demurely, "I'll be glad to give you a hand. You'll probably never figure it out all by yourself."

"What!" the judge said, infuriated.

"Well, let's face it," Toffee said innocently, "with a muckle-head like you running the show we'll never get anywhere."

"You _are_ in contempt!" the judge screamed. "I thought so all along!"

"Well, you must admit it's a pretty contemptible court," Toffee said. "Nothing personal, judge, but...."

"Silence!" the judge cried. "Don't say another word or I may have to send myself up for murder! I...." The rest was lost in a fit of coughing.

Quickly, a triumphant gleam in her eye, Toffee reached to the water pitcher at the side of the bench, emptied the elixir into it and poured a draft for the judge.

"Here, judge," she said, "pull yourself together."

The judge drained the glass and, closing his eyes, leaned back in his chair. Through the ensuing silence, Toffee returned to Marc's side.

"His honor may see things a little differently now," she mused.

"Why should he?" Marc said angrily. "All you've done is insult him."

"I also fed him the elixir."

"You--you gave him that!"

"In the water," Toffee nodded. "I hope it works."

"But it's unpredictable! There's no telling how he'll react."

"Any change," Toffee said, "is bound to be an improvement."

During this exchange, the judge seemed to have fallen into a doze. For a time, while the court waited breathlessly, he remained still, then he stirred. Drowsily, he opened his eyes and sat up. Looking enormously refreshed, he surveyed the defendants before him blankly for a moment and then, quite astonishingly, grinned with a sort of gentle mischievousness. He looked around at Sergeant Feeney, who had just returned from the cells.

"Well, hello, sergeant," he said. He made an inquiring gesture toward the defendants. "Who are all these attractive people?"

"Huh?" grunted Sergeant Feeney. "Why they're bein' tried, your honor."

"Tried?" the judge said. "How do you mean?"

"You're tryin' them, that's all," Sergeant Feeney said, puzzled.

"I am!" the judge said. "Then I must stop it instantly. I assume that when you say they're being tried, you mean someone has been very trying with them. I can see, now that you mention it, they look a bit put out. Well, we'll have to do something about that." He smiled at Marc and Toffee and the others with winning graciousness. "I want you to know that I'm grateful to you all for coming today, and I'm sorry if I've bored you." He turned back to Sergeant Feeney. "Have I been lecturing on the life of the mollusk again, or something like that?"

* * * * *

Sergeant Feeney observed the judge quizzically. "Your honor, this is a gang of desperate criminals and you're the judge who's...."

"Oh, no, no!" the judge laughed suddenly. "Oh, you're mistaken, sergeant! I'm no judge." His expression, however, became thoughtful. "It's curious, though, that you should think that, because I do have a vague recollection that I once was a judge--though it may have been a dream--and I wanted nothing more than to forget it. I got so weary of having to be virtuous all the time. But, I'm sure it was only a dream. Aren't you?"

"Your honor!" the skinny nudist said plaintively. "I really think something ought to be done about our leaves!"

"Your leaves?" the judge asked.

"Yes, your honor. We need fresh ones desperately."

"My, my," the judge said admiringly, "don't you all look cool and comfortable, though?"

"Huh?" the nudist said. "You mean you aren't sore at us any more for being nudists?"

"Sore at you?" the judge said. "Why should I be sore at you? As a matter of fact I'll tell you a little secret." Abandoning the bench and descending to the floor, he lifted his robes to display a pair of bare and knobby knees. "On warm days I never wear pants!" he chortled.

"My gosh!" the nudist said.

"Hey, what about us?" Hotstuff said. "Are you going to let them off and send us up for taking pot shots at Mario?"

"Did you do _that_!" the judge said delightedly. "Of course I don't know this Mario of yours, but I'm sure it did the scamp a world of good to have his pot shot at." He looked around fondly at the assemblage. "But what are we all doing indoors on a lovely day like this? Why don't we all go on a picnic or something?"

"Then you mean we're all dismissed?" Toffee asked. "We can go?"

"Why certainly, you lovely child," the judge said benignly. "Run along and get into some sort of beautiful mischief. And if there's anything I can do to help...."

"You've already done it," Toffee said. She turned to Marc. "Come on!"

But Marc was watching Julie as she turned and started disconsolately to leave the court.

"Julie!" he called. "Julie!"

"Hey, now," Toffee said, "don't tell me you're going to go chasing after that thin blonde just because you married her once!"

Marc remained heedless. "Julie!" he cried, starting after her. "Wait a minute!"

"Oh, yeah!" Toffee said and, deftly, she put her foot in front of his.

Marc shot out into space head first and came up abruptly against the leg of a table. He dropped to the floor, made a small twitching movement and went limp.

"Julie!" he murmured.

"That'll show you, you big stiff," Toffee said. "You can't just toss me aside like a...."

And then, as Marc passed out, she, like the words she never finished, faded away into nothing....

"What a stunning girl," the judge murmured thoughtfully. "There's something so elusive about her."

At his side, Sergeant Feeney fainted dead away.

* * * * *

In his subconscious world of gently-sloping knolls and strange feathery trees, Marc lounged on the cool greenness and smiled up at Toffee.

"Sometimes," he said, "I'm not certain which is truly real, this world or the other."

"Reality is only relative," Toffee said sagely. "After all, if you didn't believe in me, I wouldn't exist." She leaned down close and brushed her lips across his. "You wouldn't even be able to feel my kiss. Reality can be happy or sad, depending on how you look at it. If you see only the happy side of things...."

She paused as the light began to flicker uncertainly in the glowing sky above them. "It's time for you to go back now; I'll have to continue this little sermon another time." She touched his cheek. "It's been a lovely day, Marc. Goodbye--until we can do it all over again...."

"Goodbye," Marc said, "and thanks."

The light flickered again and was gone. Marc felt himself begin to drift.

"Goodbye...."

* * * * *

"Marc!" the voice cried.

Marc looked up to find Julie bending over him. He was relieved to note that she now appeared fully dressed.

"Oh, can you ever forgive me?" Julie said. "It was Mario who suggested I take the jewels to the country--in case he needed them for the portrait. And when we were out by the stream this afternoon...."

"Never mind," Marc said. "It's all over now, let's forget it. Will you help me up?"

Taking his arm, Julie guided him to his feet.

"Look, dear," she said, "couldn't you drive back to the country with me? A few days vacation wouldn't hurt too much, surely. You'd like to, wouldn't you?"

"I'd love to," Marc said suddenly. He took her hand in his. "Let's go."

"You poor dear," Julie murmured. "I wonder how you stood it, with everyone saying such awful things about you when you really hadn't done anything at all."

Together, they left the court and started down the walk toward the convertible.

As they left the city and started into the country, Marc pulled the car over to the side of the highway and gave his attention to the drama of the brilliant sunset.

"Well," he sighed, "there it goes, the first day of spring."

"Thank heavens," Julie said. "Now we can relax and enjoy it."

But there was still a question nagging at the back of Marc's mind.

"I was just thinking, dear," he said, "about your birthday...."

"Birthday!" Julie said. "But that's months away yet!"

"But, still," Marc said, "I was wondering what you'd like for a gift. I thought maybe some nice pink lace underwear...."

"Pink lace underwear!" Julie said. She began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Marc asked suspiciously.

"Darling," Julie said, "don't you remember the pink lace underwear mother gave me for Christmas and how I loathed it? Well, I brought it to the country where it wouldn't matter just so I could wear it out and get rid of it."

Marc's relief came to the surface in a smile. "Then pink lace is out, huh?"

"Definitely," Julie said. "But if you insist on lingerie, get me something wicked and black. No true siren would ever dream of letting herself be caught in pink."

Marc reached across the seat and drew her close to him. "In the spring time," he said, "a young man's likely to get fancy."

The sun, on the horizon, slid conveniently out of sight and was gone. As it did, a breeze blew lightly through the car and somewhere, it seemed, there was laughter.