Matthew and I collected the judge’s belongings from the bench and delivered them to Judge Fleck’s chambers, where the entire court was convening to discuss the case. We quickly placed them in front of Friedman’s nameplate and managed to scurry off and out of the courthouse unseen.

The indoor drama paled in comparison to what awaited us outside. Ten thousand microphones jammed into our faces as we attempted to get lunch.

Is it true that the attorney general admitted defeat? CNN.

Is it true that there was a 9/11 scare? Fox News.

Did the dead guy’s brother really eat the killer’s ear? Inside Edition.

Perhaps there was something to be said about letting the media inside the courtroom.

Matthew took my hand as we plowed through the mayhem. Just as we were in the clear, Joe’s Shanghai in sight, I spotted a short, round balding man talking to Anderson Cooper in an alleyway.

“Matthew, I just want to get a good look at Coop, OK?” I whispered, standing a few feet behind the camera.

“So, please state your name into the camera again,” the Coop said.

“My name is Tippard Evans and I served as Dell Nelson’s lawyer in the Peter Nussbaum case.”

Oh my God—the Tipper! The Coop was a genius—how did he find the Tipper?!

“As I said, I’m in my sixtieth day of being awake,” the Tipper said, opening his eyes widely, “and it feels great.”

“So, how, um, how did you get awake?”

“I’m in this program, called Staying Awake. It’s a twelve-step thing and . . .” The Tipper spotted me. “Excuse me, miss, miss—this is an exclusive with CNN, you need to leave.”

“Stop rolling,” Anderson Cooper ordered the cameraman and turned to face his intruder. “Yeah, we’re kind of in the middle of something, so could you please excuse us?”

I stood frozen. The Tipper. Talking to Coop? In an alleyway? A 12-step sleeping group?

“Sorry about her,” Matthew said. He grabbed my arm and yanked me into Joe’s Shanghai. “Sheila, are you OK?”

“I, um, I’m fine. It’s just surreal, I guess. The whole thing.”

“Yes, it’s true. I am truly beginning to think that fact is indeed stranger than fiction.” Matthew shook his head, ordered our usual soup dumplings—and then made it a double. It’d been a long morning.

Chapter Twenty

The judges tied.

According to Judge Friedman, Judge Fleck was able to convince five others that allowing the Drexel opinion to dictate the outcome of the case would be akin to taking orders from the ninth circuit, the judicial equivalent of getting bossed around by your twin sibling. It was bad enough having the Supreme Court tell them what to do; the chief judge of the third circuit wouldn’t take such crap from anyone lesser.