his eyes as hard as he could, clapping his hands tightly over his ears, and continuing to say over and over again that it wasn't so, he could somehow blot out the truth.
But Truth can have a funny way of revealing herself, and to everyone else in the courtroom, with the possible exception of Abe Firestone and his two assistants, she'd suddenly and unexpectedly laid herself bare, for all to see. Carter Drake had no doubt gotten it half-right. In large measure, he was responsible for what had happened. Had he not had too much to drink and needed help getting home, those eight children and their driver would still be alive. But he hadn't killed them. He hadn't driven their van off the road. He hadn't even been driving.
'I have no further questions,' said Jaywalker.
But Firestone did.
For a full two hours, he took Drake back over every detail of what had happened in the car. The easy part was getting Drake to say he'd been driving. But when it came to explaining away his having gestured with his left hand reaching for the gearshift, or his left foot's not having been able to reach the clutch pedal, Firestone made no headway at all. And that fact must have been as obvious to Drake as it was to everyone else, because at one point, when it had become clear that his insistence that he'd been driving was ringing hollow, he looked away from Firestone and toward Justice Hinkley. And turning both of his palms upward, he asked, 'Can't I just plead guilty?'
'No,' said the judge, 'you cannot. Your job is to answer the questions.'
Firestone finally gave up trying and sat down, but his frustration and anger never once ebbed. Even after the jurors had filed out of the courtroom for the evening, and Jaywalker was packing his files and notes into his briefcase, the D.A. was in front of Jaywalker, spraying a fine mist of spittle as he delivered his unsolicited opinion.
'He's lying!' he shouted, his face crimson, the veins in his forehead bulging. 'He's goddamned lying, and you know it. You put him up to this. They warned me. They told me you were one clever son of a bitch. But this…this is fucking criminal! This is an outrage! The guy goes out and kills nine people, and you twist things around to make it look like he was nothing but an innocent passenger! Well, fuck you! I'm still going to get him. You watch. And I'm going to get you, too, before I'm done.'
Jaywalker finished packing his briefcase and snapped it shut. 'You flatter me,' he said. 'And I suppose I appreciate your calling me clever. But I'm not that clever. Nobody is.'
Amanda was waiting for him in the corridor, but she was hardly alone. A swarm of reporters had her surrounded, snapping pictures of her, shoving microphones into her face, and outshouting each other demanding her comments on the latest development. Jaywalker walked right past her, afraid that if he were seen talking with her, it would smack of collusion.
Sitting behind the wheel of his Mercury, he waited until he saw her reach the parking lot, get into her Lexus and pull out onto the street, before he began following her. He finally managed to catch up to her on the Palisades Parkway, no mean feat for the Merc. As he drew alongside her, he motioned her to follow him. They pulled over at a scenic overlook, where he killed the Mercury's engine, got out and joined Amanda in the Lexus. Unlike the Merc, it had a heater that actually worked.
'What was all that about?' she asked.
'I wanted you to follow me.'
'No,' she said. 'Back in court.'
'Oh, that,' he said. 'Carter told the truth.'
'The truth?'
'That you were driving.'
People developed tells, Jaywalker had learned long ago, almost imperceptible giveaways that they were lying, or hiding something, or bluffing at the poker table. Some would break off eye contact and look away or down at the floor. Others would raise a hand to the mouth, or the tip of the nose, or one ear or the other. Jaywalker would bite the inside of his cheek. And it was always his left cheek. He had the scar tissue to prove it. But he couldn't help it; for the life of him, he couldn't. Which was why they called it a tell.
Amanda had just bitten her lower lip.
'Why didn't you let me know?' he asked her.
She looked away, out the side window. 'Carter,' she said. 'He insisted. He wouldn't have it any other way. From the day it happened, all that's ever mattered to him is keeping Eric and me out of it. It's his penance, I guess. But I can't believe he changed his mind.'
'He didn't, exactly.'
He told her what had happened. She nodded grimly several times, but didn't interrupt. When he was finished, she asked, 'What's going to happen to me?'
'Not too much,' he said. 'You certainly weren't drunk, or anything like that. Nobody's going to accuse you of acting with depraved indifference, the way they'd been able to accuse Carter. It was an accident. But it was a bad one, and you did leave the scene.'
'What happens tomorrow?'
'Tomorrow,' said Jaywalker, 'I put you on the witness stand.'
'And what am I supposed to do?'
'Tell the truth,' he said. 'Tell the absolute truth.'
22
Before they began Wednesday morning, Abe Firestone asked to approach the bench. There, he indicated that not only did he want David Kaminsky and Julie Napolitano to flank him at the prosecution table, but he wanted a fourth chair added.
'And who is the guest of honor?' asked Justice Hinkley.
'Investigator Sheetz.'
Jaywalker objected, but the judge ruled that since Sheetz had already testified, she saw no reason to exclude him. And appellate courts had long approved of the policy of having 'case agents' or other members of law enforcement sit with prosecutors to help out with technical matters. 'But this means you won't be permitted to call him as a rebuttal witness,' she said.
'Fair enough,' Firestone grunted.
They stepped back, and as the jury entered, so did Sheetz. But instead of being dressed in a dark suit and tie, as he had been during his own testimony, now he was wearing his trooper's uniform, and even carrying his Mountie hat.
This time it was Jaywalker who asked to approach, complaining that Sheetz's sudden presence, accompanied by his change in clothing, was nothing but a thinly veiled attempt to intimidate the next witness.
'Who is the next witness?' she asked him.
'The defendant's wife.'
'I didn't know that,' said Firestone. 'I figured you were putting on the allergy doctor.'
'So that's who you wanted to intimidate.'
'Cut it out, you two,' said the judge. 'I've got a jury waiting to get started.'
'Listen,' said Firestone. 'If he's putting the wife on the stand, I'm going to ask her if she's been sleeping with her husband's lawyer. Go get that photo,' he told Julie Napolitano.
She darted back to the prosecution table and began leafing through a pile of stuff. J esus, thought Jaywalker, they really do have a photo of us in bed. A moment later, Napolitano returned to the bench and held up a photo for the judge to see. But it was the same one that had appeared on Page Six of the P ost, showing Amanda and Jaywalker in the diner, her leaning toward him and looking for all the world as though she was about to kiss him.
'Even if what you say is true,' asked the judge, 'how is that relevant to anything?'
'Credibility,' said Firestone, repeating whatever Kaminsky was whispering in his ear. 'Bias. Conflict of
