The World According to Vince - Jane Harvey-Berrick Page 0,9
was the whiff of expensive cologne that clung to his skin. I wanted to grab him by his orange jump suit, crush it in my fists, then slap that silly smile off of his face.
Vincent Azzo brought out my inner Alexa Bliss, and the man in front of me was heading for a smack-down.
I laid my palms flat on either side of him on the podium, and spoke slowly and clearly.
“Do not speak. Nod if you understand me.”
Looking confused, Vince nodded.
“That nice lady sitting up there is a judge. Right now, she’s considering including contempt of court to the collection of felonies you’ve already acquired. Without speaking, nod if you understand.”
Comprehension dawned and a chagrined look passed across his face.
“For the rest of this arraignment, do not speak to me, do not speak to Rick, do not speak to the courtroom deputy sheriff, and especially do not speak to the judge unless I tell you to. Nod if you understand.”
Vince’s big blue eyes looked wounded, but he did as requested and nodded.
I took a deep breath.
“When you speak, you make things worse. Do you understand?”
He nodded again, his pouty lips pulling down.
“Good. Leave the talking to me. Okay?”
He leaned forward so the judge couldn’t see him. “Are you mad at me, Gracie?”
I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth three times before I answered.
“Yes, I’m mad at you.”
“Sorry.”
“Vincent?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
He gave a small smile and mimed zipping his lips shut.
If only.
It was at that moment that his stomach growled so loudly, it was like having another person in the room.
“Sorry, me Lud,” Vince said, a serious look on his face. “Breakfast were a bit scarce.”
Fiery sparks shot from my eyes as he smiled at Judge Herschel and I mimed a slashing motion across my throat.
Vince got the message and shut up.
We got through the rest of the arraignment without further incident, although the growling stomach was a continuous acoustic backdrop. There was another slightly sticky moment when Judge Herschel queried Vince’s residential status, but I was able to confirm that prior to moving to New York, he’d lived in California for five years.
Then we got to the section where Vince had to plead.
He stood, straight-backed, towering over me and the prosecuting attorney.
“Mr. Azzo,” said the judge, “to the charge of burglary, how do you plead?”
“Guilty, M’Lud, um, me Lady, um, your Honor.”
The judge’s lips thinned but it looked to me as if she was holding back a smile.
“To the charge of larceny, how do you plead?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
Judge Herschel glanced at the prosecutor who simply nodded.
Mollified, she ordered that Vince’s passport was retained.
“I’m not a flight risk,” Vince said out of the corner of his mouth.
“You’d better not be,” I muttered. “I’ll handcuff you to the radiator if I have to.”
“That’s a bit kinky, Grace. Game on!”
“Shut up!”
The bond was set at ten thousand dollars.
I thought Rick was going to cry, but Vince just smiled and looked like he was about to speak. I made another throat-slicing movement with my hand. Vince took the hint and winked at me instead.
We all reconvened at the prisoners’ entrance where Vince appeared in a rumpled designer suit covered in paw marks and dog fur, and wrestled me into a bear hug that I most definitely did not want.
“You were fab!” he crowed. “I thought that Judge Hershey was going to send me to the galleys.”
“You thought she wanted you to cook for her?” I asked confused.
“He means galleys like a Roman ship,” Rick sighed. “He’s been watching too many episodes of Spartacus.”
Vince raised his fist in the air and yelled loudly. “I am Spartacus!”
I jumped and everyone turned to stare.
“Shut up, Vince!” I hissed, grabbing his arm and hustling him toward the elevator.
“Fookin’ great film that,” he grinned goofily.
When we found the bondsman, Rick handed over his credit card looking a little green as he was given a receipt for ten thousand dollars.
“Cheers, mate!” Vince said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll pay you back.”
I sighed again. I sounded like a leaky tire around this incredibly annoying man-child.
“Vincent, this isn’t a fine. Providing you return to court for sentencing on the date required, Rick will get his money back.”
“Oh, coolio!” he smiled at his friend.
“Although there’s every chance that in the future you’ll be fined and have to pay costs, but you’ll be given a reasonable time so to do. Understand?”
He nodded. “You know you’re fookin’ hot when you go all lawyer on me.”