"So are you."
"I work here."
"So do I."
"You cannot prove that."
"You have explicitly prevented me from retrieving my identification."
"You could have stolen someone’s access card."
"From whom?"
"I don’t know!"
"Then you have no report of a stolen card to base your reasonable suspicion on."
Keller stepped toward the side stairs that led up to the bench. "Do not make me come up there."
Adrian did not step back. Instead, his gaze moved deliberately up toward the courtroom camera mounted flush above the clerk’s station. A small, steady green light glowed beneath the lens. The automated recording system was active.
"Is this interaction being recorded?" Adrian asked.
Keller glanced over his shoulder at the camera. "That is none of your concern."
"It should concern you."
The bailiff’s thick hand tightened around the cuffs. "You think a camera is going to help you?"
"I think facts usually help."
Keller opened the small swinging door at the base of the bench's stairs. "You people always think you can talk your way out of consequences."
Adrian’s face became dead still. The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "You people?"
Keller stopped with one foot on the first stair. For the first time since he had entered the room, the bailiff seemed to realize that his own words might be moving faster than his ability to defend them.
"I mean... trespassers," Keller stammered, attempting a tactical retreat.
"No," Adrian said, his voice ringing with absolute, undeniable authority. "You didn’t."
"Turn around." Keller demanded, his voice cracking slightly as he reached toward Adrian's arm.
At that exact moment, the heavy wooden doors at the rear of the courtroom swung open.
"David?"
A woman carrying a stack of three thick case folders entered from the rear aisle. She was in her early sixties, wearing a sharp blazer, with silver hair and reading glasses hanging from a beaded chain around her neck. Her name was Margaret Ellis, the chief clerk of the circuit court, and she commanded the administrative side of the building like a general.
She stopped midway down the aisle, looking from Keller on the steps to Adrian standing calmly behind the bench. Her eyes fell on the metal handcuffs locked in Keller's fist.
"What in the world is happening here?" Margaret demanded.
Keller straightened up, puffing out his chest, relieved to have a witness to his authority. "Margaret. I caught this man trespassing behind the bench."
Margaret stared at him, her brow furrowing in deep confusion. "This man?"
"Yes. He refused orders. He claims he belongs here."
Margaret walked slowly to the nearest counsel table and set her heavy folders down. The thud echoed like a gavel strike.
"He does belong here, David."
Keller’s confidence faltered, a look of sheer bewilderment crossing his face. "He said he was staff..."
"He is not staff," Margaret interrupted, her tone turning glacial.
Keller looked relieved for less than a second, thinking he had been right all along.