Outside, the new Criminal Courts Complex is distinctive, but not hugely original. Busáras with a facelift. Inside, it feels like a science fiction set. Something American, definitely lacking the post-industrial grime that besets most UK efforts, from 28 Days Later to Dr Who.
Think of Doctor Manhattan’s laboratory in Watchmen. Or maybe the headquarters for the New York CTU as Jack Bauer saves the world for the eighth time. Not quite science fiction, but slightly ahead of today, with geeks doing magical things at ridiculous speeds on their computers.
Lots of glass. Lots of polished steel.
The barrister was almost certainly a junior. Senior counsel don’t carry that many books. That’s what devils are for. She stood by the lift, eyeing the call button with suspicions.
The Garda approached with a grin on his face.
“You’ve been electric shocked already, haven’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, almost every time.”
“Too much metal, there’s nowhere for the static to go,” he pronounced.
“Would you mind? she asked, struggling to keep hold of the bulky legal texts.
The Garda reached into his pocket, producing a pencil, and used it to hit the button.
“Works every time,” he said.