now I guess the party is over

"And just so you boys will know what's coming in the next few days, I'll file at least two lawsuits Monday morning, one here in state court, naming you as defendants, along with the city, county, and half the state. Another one will be filed in federal court, a civil-rights action with a long list of allegations. You will be named in that one also. I might file another one or two, if I can find a cause of action. I plan to contact the Justice Department and request an investigation. For you, Koffee, I plan to file a complaint with the state bar association for ethics violations, not that I expect the state bar to show much of an interest, but you will get chewed up in the process. You might want to start thinking about a resignation. For you, Kerber, early retirement is now a real option. You should be fired, but I doubt the mayor and the city council have the balls to do that. Chief, you were the assistant chief when this investigation got off track. You will be named as a defendant, too. But don't take it personally. I'm suing everybody." The chief slowly stood up and walked toward the door. "You're leaving, Mr. Radford?" the judge asked, in a tone that left no doubt such an abrupt exit would be frowned upon. "My job does not require me to sit and listen to pompous assholes like Robbie Flak," the chief replied. "The meeting is not over," Judge Henry said sternly. "I'd stay if I were you," the mayor said, and the chief decided to stay. He assumed a position by the door. Robbie stared at Kerber and Koffee, then said, "So last night you had a little party by the lake to celebrate; now I guess the party is over." "We always thought Drumm had an accomplice," Koffee managed to blurt out, though his words trailed off under the weight of their own absurdity. Kerber nodded quickly, ready to pounce on any new theory that might save them. "Good God, Paul," Judge Henry roared in disbelief. Robbie was laughing. The mayor's jaw had dropped in shock.