SDNY COURTHOUSE, Dec 30 -- When the circus leaves town, the stench and pain remain.

   And those accused are still moved in and out by Marshals, without media or mention.

   The day after Ghislaine Maxwell was convicted, at least on five of six counts, there were still TV trucks in Foley Square. Kurt was as always at his PACER terminal in the fourth floor press room of the courthouse.

  The other journalists had stayed late the night before to report out the Maxwell verdict and then to wish each other, and in some cases him, a happy New Year. Now he was alone again, as he had been most weekdays since COVID hit or was recognized in March 2000. It was now nearing New Years Day 2022.

  Twenty one months of call-in lines and exclusive coverage of cases all over the country. Judge Nathan had wanted to end that, by denying a call-in line even as she pushed the Maxwell jury with the threat of Omicron infection. Kurt might make another filing. He would not move on.

         Kurt had agreed to be on a couple of podcasts or live-streams. These days even radio shows had a video component. On Zoom, Kurt could use as a background photos one he'd taken of a rain-swept Foley Square.

  But on StreamYard and the other platforms streamers used, he didn't know how to. So he showed the metal banisters of the fire stairs outside the press room, or when he could, the low cut wall of his cubicle, with a sign with the name of his blog taped on.

  Outside an American flag flapped in the late December wind, perennially at half mast. Who they were remembering was not clear.

         Kurt couldn't stop remembering he'd vowed that after the Maxwell verdict came he'd put aside his research into her and Epstein and get back to other projects. But it was a rabbit hole without end.

         Did Leslie Wexner hold the sex tapes? Was that why he was appeared bullet proof? Was that because of Israel? Or was one reason Israel was bullet proof, some said under cloud of anti-Semitism, in the U.S. Senate and in legacy media gone electronic?

  Kurt had a list of the Maxwell and Epstein related cases he would follow. Prince Andrew, of course, and Alan Dershowitz. Jean-Luc Brunel and also Peter Nygard, whose UN connections Kurt had exposed. Some cases against the Epstein estate and now many Maxwell too, in the Virgin Islands.

 Hopefully at least two cases against Presidents not dead but ex, of the United States, one ex-president of Colombia, one ex-prime minister of Spain. An ex-governor of New Mexico.

  But what about the current Secretary General of the UN? People told Kurt that he and UN would always be immune. But Kurt refused to accept that.

  Kurt went again, this time by e-bike, up to the UN mansion at Sutton Place and live streamed. His new phone got reception there, 5G no less, and he launched the stream and ranted. Just like old times, including each he was still inside the UN, up in the bullpen, forced to be back in by 7 pm, running back up for the UN corruption trials in SDNY, or not get back in at all. This was a fight he would not stop until it was over.

  'Til death do us part, Kurt shouted at the UN glass house down on 43rd Street, turning to the US Mission on 45th and First. The First Amendment stopped on First Avenue, and not only on the east side of the street, it seemed.

   Outside the new Turkish mission on 46th Street, guards stared him up and down. "Jamal Khashoggi!" Kurt shouted at them, zeroing in with phone and streaming. It was good to be back. It was good that the circus had for now packed up and left.

* * *

 Yes there were still TV trucks in Foley Square when Michael Randall Long passed through. He stopped and took a photo with his phone, then continued East on Worth Street.

  The revolving doors to the courthouse were covered over, but the pneumatic side door for the disabled still worked. Michael could see the lights on up on the fourth floor, probably Kurt Wheelock, he thought, doing his Maximum Maxwell. The blogger would come back. He always did, or had so far.

   Ali Baba's outdoor fruit stand had a big supply of surplus tangerines, with kind with the green leave on the stem. Michael bought 10 for two dollars, paying outside in cash, and took the side door up to his office.

   His phone answering machine -- he still had one, to keep the 212 telephone number that showed he was in Manhattan, no longer so attractive in this age of COVID if only Omicron -- was blinking.

  One of his clients had been arrested on a violation of supervised release and would be presented that afternoon in SDNY Mag court. Could he attend and file a new notice of appearance? Or would his client have to taken the CJA on duty?

   Michael Randall Long unpeeled and ate one tangerine, and then another. The circus was gone but the game remained the same. Yes, he texted back. Yes, I will come to the Mag court and represent. #MaximumMaxwell (paperback here); soon #MirroringMaxwell.