worse,” McGoo said. “This is a conversation to obtain more information, even though you’ve already confessed to plenty. You waived your right to an attorney. Are you certain you don’t want one present on your behalf?”
“I don’t like lawyers,” Max said. “They scare me.”
Robin said, “Boo,” and he flinched.
As McGoo reviewed the papers, he shook his head. “To be honest, it doesn’t look good for you, Mr. Grubb. We’ve impounded your sweatshop, freed your golem workforce, and confiscated all of your trinkets as evidence.”
“But I haven’t done anything wrong!” he wailed.
Robin’s nostrils flared. “Oh? So slavery is fine with you?”
Maximus Max looked more confused than terrified. “But golems are made for work! Would you call me a terrible person for using a lawn mower or a coffeemaker?”
Robin extracted a legal document from her briefcase and slapped it on the table. “As of a ruling seven months ago in the case of McDowell v. Clay, golems were classified as unnaturals, and therefore entitled to citizenship in the Quarter. They must be treated as any other citizen and must receive equal protection under the law.”
Max opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. The second time, words spilled out. “But golems are disposable—they’re mass produced! You use a golem until he wears out, and then you get another one.”
Indignant, Robin leaned over the table. I could see sparks were about to fly. “Are you comparing those poor golems to . . . toothbrushes? Golems are thinking beings, not inanimate objects. Your days of using golems as slaves to manufacture tourist garbage are over, Mr. Grubb. Ignorance of the law is not a viable defense.”
Beads of sweat stood out on Max’s brow, causing the drawn third eye to run. He sniffled. “I was trying to be respectable, and now I’m ruined because the rules keep changing. What’s going to be politically correct next week? How can I keep up? I’m just a middleman. I fill the orders and ship them off. The Smile Syndicate runs the gift shop racket inside the Quarter—why not go after them? If there weren’t any customers, I wouldn’t need golems to make trinkets.”
I was surprised to learn that the Smile Syndicate owned the new Kreepsakes souvenir shops. A big conglomerate, the Syndicate kept a low profile, buying businesses right and left, but they did not put their name on neon signs. They had been around for decades, family owned and operated by the Goodfellows. Apparently, the Smile Syndicate had decided that tourism was the Next Big Thing in the Unnatural Quarter.
Several years ago, Irwyn Goodfellow—Hope Saldana’s philanthropist benefactor—had publicly and dramatically broken ties with his sister, Missy Goodfellow, who continued to handle the family business. Irwyn wanted to do good deeds with the family fortune, to leave a positive mark on the world; he washed his hands of what he called their “shadowy and underhanded dealings” (although he never gave specifics).
Now Robin shook her head at Max’s wobbly defense. “When buying merchandise from an outside vendor, retailers are not obligated to follow the supply chain, nor are they responsible for any violations in the producer’s operation. You’re on the hook for this, Mr. Grubb. Not the Smile Syndicate.”
“But I didn’t know it was wrong to put golems to work, I really didn’t!” The necromancer turned to McGoo. “Can’t you cut me a break? Please? You’ve already taken everything from me. I’m not a bad person, just unlucky.”
Robin continued to glare daggers at him, but I whispered to her, “Could we have a private consult with Officer McGoohan outside the room?”
McGoo switched off the recorder and gave a stern warning to Maximus Max. “Don’t try to work any spells while you’re alone in here. We’ll be watching.” He pointed to the mirrored wall.
“Oh, I won’t—I swear!”
Out in the hall, with the door closed, I asked them both, “How strong is our case, really? Everybody in the Quarter knows that golems are workhorses, designed for assembly lines and menial labor. Max wasn’t exactly peddling drugs, weapons, or dangerous magical items. This is going to be a tough sell, especially if the Smile Syndicate decides to defend him with their lawyers.” I put my hand on Robin’s shoulder. “I’m not convinced the end result would be worth the time and expense of litigating this. We already got what we wanted. Max is shut down and all of Bill’s friends are freed.”
Robin was tied up in knots. “I want that necromancer punished for abusing those poor golems. I could file a