Fifteen minutes later, Sabrina, Daphne, Granny Relda, Robin Hood, and Little John were pushing open the doors of the police station. The ugly little bodyguard, who Sabrina had learned was a miniature orc named Barto, followed behind, darting into alleyways, blocking traffic, and rushing about, fully prepared to leap into combat to protect the group. Sabrina found him painfully annoying but Granny refused to send him home.
The police station was a mess. Boxes of files were scattered about. Many had been tipped over, rummaged through, and abandoned. There were big maps of the town on the walls, some covered in scribbled writing, and the front desk was stained with coffee-cup rings and cigarette burns.
Robin approached the counter and rang a tarnished brass bell. The chime was answered by an enraged growl from a back room.
“WHAT NOW?” a voice shouted.
“There he is,” Robin said as his face broke into a mischievous smile.
“As pleasant as ever,” Little John added.
A door flew open, rattling the full-length mirror on the wall behind it. Nottingham barreled into the room like an angry bull. When he spotted the Grimms he snarled, but when he saw Robin and Little John, he reared back on his heels in shock. He examined the group the way a hyena eyes its prey. Sabrina had seen this expression before. He’d had it the night he tried to kill Daphne. It made the purple scar that started at the tip of Nottingham’s eye and ended at the corner of his mouth seem to pulsate.
“You!” Nottingham roared as he pointed an angry finger at the lawyers.
“Us,” Robin replied. It was obvious to Sabrina that the sheriff and Robin Hood had shared a long, bumpy history and that their friend in the green suit had gotten the better of it. She made a mental note to read up on Robin Hood’s adventures when she got a chance.
“Interesting outfit you’ve got there, Nottingham,” Robin continued.
The sheriff was wearing leather pants, and boots that reached his knees. His shirt was black and billowy, with silver buttons carved in the shape of human skulls. He had a long, swishy cape tied at his neck and a sheathed dagger strapped to his waist.
“Is this what they mean when they call something old school?” Little John continued. “You do realize this isn’t the fifteenth century?”
“There’s nothing old-fashioned about this,” Nottingham said, brandishing his dagger.
“Oh, Nottingham, you do enjoy the drama,” Robin said. “We didn’t come here to fight you. We came to see our client.”
“Client? What client?”
“Mr. Canis.”
Suddenly, Sheriff Nottingham’s rage disappeared and he roared with laughter. “So the mongrel has a lawyer now? Hilarious!”
“I’m glad you’re amused,” Robin said. “I find what is passing as the rule of law in this town just as funny. You arrested Canis four weeks ago and have yet to charge him with a crime. If you aren’t going to charge him you must set him free—that’s the law in Ferryport Landing.”
“I AM THE LAW!” Nottingham shouted. “I’ll do what I want with that monster. He’s a murderer and he’ll hang if I have anything to say about it.”
“I remember a time when you used to say the same thing about me,” Robin replied. “As for Canis—a murderer? Who was the victim?”
Nottingham chuckled. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard the story? It goes a little something like this: A child wearing a red hood journeyed to visit her poor, sick grandmother. A monster came along and ate the grandmother. No one lived happily ever after.”
“That happened six hundred years ago!” Granny exclaimed.
“Justice has no time limit,” the sheriff replied.
“Well, if justice is what you’re after, then there must be a trial. I need to meet with Canis and prepare his defense,” Robin said.
“Dear me, perhaps I am ill. I hear you speak but your words are nonsense. You don’t give a rabid dog a trial—you put him to sleep before he can hurt anyone else.”
“You’re going to kill him?” Sabrina cried.
Daphne burst into tears. Sabrina did her best to comfort her sister, but she was too shocked to speak more.
“Oh, here come the waterworks,” the sheriff said, his face full of mocking concern. He bent over and took Daphne’s chin in his gloved hand. “Don’t cry, little one. Save your tears. You’ll need them sooner than you think.”
Little John grabbed Nottingham’s arm and jerked him away from the little girl. He took the Sheriff’s hand in his own and squeezed and squeezed until Sabrina thought she heard bones snap. Nottingham yanked his hand away.