I've been told to get Smith.
What will you do? Chiun asked? The word got to the Mobile police a little late.  The clerk of the court handled the paperwork, and when information leaks from a courthouse, that is usually the hole.  In this case the clerk was outraged.  He saw the cases come and go.  A man in his middle fifties, he'd gotten his children educated and through college, managing to avoid the drug epidemic.  But that had not been true of every child in the clerk's neighborhood.  Right next door to his house, the family's youngest had bought a rock of crack cocaine and promptly driven his car into a bridge abutment at over a hundred miles per hour.  The clerk had watched the child grow up, had driven him to school once or twice, and paid the child to mow his lawn.  The coffin had been sealed for the funeral at Cypress Hill Baptist Church, and he'd heard that the mother was still on medications after having had to identify what was left of the body.  The minister talked about the scourge of drugs like the scourging of Christ's own passion.  He was a fine minister, a gifted orator in the Southern Baptist tradition, and while he led them in prayer for the dead boy's soul his personal and wholly genuine fury over the drug problem merely amplified the outrage already felt by his congregation…
The clerk couldn't understand it.  Davidoff was a superb prosecuting attorney.  Jew or not, this man was one of God's elect, a true hero in a profession of charlatans.  How could this be?  Those two scum were going to get off!