cuff into the receiving end, over and over again. It's a ratcheting sound, metal teeth being drawn over metal teeth. It's a sound…well, it's the sound of an arrest about to take place.
And Amanda, who heard it along with everyone else in the room, suddenly couldn't take her eyes off the source of the sound. So hard and so long did she stare, her eyes wide, her mouth open, that Justice Hinkley was finally forced to intervene.
'Are you able to continue, Mrs. Drake?'
But Amanda couldn't answer. She couldn't even nod, or shake her head. All she could do was to continue to stare at the handcuffs.
Her handcuffs.
The judge banged her gavel once, harder than usual. 'We'll be in recess,' she announced.
As soon as the jurors were out of the room, she made a record of what had happened, describing it in detail for the court reporter to take down. Then she turned to the prosecution table. 'Investigator Sheetz,' she said, 'remove yourself from my courtroom immediately, and don't come back. Ever. And you should expect to face criminal charges.'
'For what?' It was Firestone's voice.
'For trying to intimidate a witness.'
'A witness,' barked Firestone, 'who was about to lie.'
'Careful, Mr. Firestone. Consider this your warning.' Then she turned to the witness stand. 'Mrs. Drake, do you realize the position you may be about to put yourself in?'
All Amanda could do was shake her head slowly from side to side. The judge evidently took it as a no. 'Do you have a lawyer?' she asked.
Amanda managed to point vaguely in Jaywalker's direction.
'No,' said the judge. 'What I mean is, do you have your own lawyer, other than Mr. Jaywalker?'
'No.'
'Well, before we go any further, we're going to get you one.' She scanned the audience for volunteers, settling on a young man in the second row whom she apparently recognized. 'You, stand up. What's your name again?'
'Mermelstein,' said the young man. 'Judah Mermelstein.'
'Right,' said the judge. 'Have you been following this case?'
'Very much so. As a matter of fact, I-'
'Good. I'm assigning you, for today only, to represent the witness. You're to sit down with her and explain to her the potential jeopardy she's in, advise her of her rights, and represent her through the end of her testimony. Do you understand?'
'Yes, but-'
'There are no buts about it. I have a trial going on, and a jury waiting. Can you do as I say?'
'I can, only-'
'Then do it. We'll reconvene in twenty-five minutes.' And with that, she stormed out of the courtroom.
No doubt Mermelstein had been trying to tell the judge that having represented the defendant, however briefly, he was in no position to now represent a witness in the same case. But whatever it was, Justice Hinkley hadn't wanted to hear it.
And Jaywalker? Was he supposed to run after her and try to explain the problem to her? Or should he sit down, let things unfold and, if it should come to it, have an issue nicely preserved for appeal?
He sat down.
It was almost noon by the time they resumed. Amanda was led back to the witness stand and reminded that she was still under oath. Judah Mermelstein was provided with a chair, placed directly to one side of her. It was the same chair Investigator Sheetz had occupied earlier, before he'd felt compelled to play with his handcuffs. Needless to say, he was nowhere in sight right now.
THE COURT: Mr. Mermelstein, have you had an opportunity to confer with the witness?
MERMELSTEIN: Yes, Your Honor.
THE COURT: Are we ready to proceed?
MERMELSTEIN: Yes, but THE COURT: Good. Bring in the jury.
Even as the jurors entered, they took in Sheetz's absence and Mermelstein's presence. Jurors don't miss much, Jaywalker had come to learn. They got things wrong every now and then, for which he was mostly grateful. But they didn't miss much.
The judge apologized for keeping them waiting, and instructed them to refrain from speculating about the cast change. Then she told Jaywalker to continue his examination.
JAYWALKER: Right before the recess, Mrs. Drake, I asked you which one of you got behind the wheel of the Audi, and which one of you got into the passenger seat. Do you recall that question?
Before answering, Amanda looked over at Mermelstein. Only when he nodded did she look back at Jaywalker.
AMANDA: Yes.
JAYWALKER: I ask you that same question again now, Mrs. Drake. Who was driving the Audi that evening, you or your husband?
Just as there can come a Moment in a trial when everything changes, so too can there come a Question upon which everything hinges. This was such a question. If Amanda were to say, 'I drove,' the entire direction of the trial would change. She would tell a story totally different from the one Carter had. There would be no wasp, no accidental loss of control of the car, no desperate attempt to steer it back into its lane or force the stick shift into a lower gear. Instead, she'd take full responsibility for everything that had happened. Then Abe Firestone would do his best to expose her as a liar, intent on saving her husband. What the jury would do was anyone's guess. And if they saw fit to acquit Carter, Amanda would probably end up wearing handcuffs as a reward for her honesty.
On the other hand, if she were to say, 'He drove,' that declaration, combined with Carter's earlier insistence that he had been behind the wheel, would likely be the nail in her husband's coffin. No left-handed versus righthanded slip, no why-he-couldn't-reach-the-clutch theory was going to be enough for Jaywalker to pull the rabbit out of the hat at that point.
So which was she going to do?
Way back in grammar school, a million years ago, a young Harrison J. Walker and the rest of his class had been assigned to read a famous short story, compose their own endings to it, and read them aloud. The story was called 'The Lady and the Tiger,' and it was set thousands of years ago, back in the time of gladiators. A young man has been imprisoned in a dungeon and told that it will be his fate to be thrown into the ring for the king's amusement. During the fortnight while he waits, a princess comes to visit him, and over time the two of them fall in love. On her final visit, she tells the prisoner that on the very next day he will be led into the ring, where he will find two solid doors. Hidden behind one door will be a ravenous tiger, starved for weeks. Should he choose that door, he'll be ripped apart and devoured alive. Behind the other door will be a beautiful lady. Should he be lucky enough to choose that door, he'll be freed to wed her, go off with her, and live happily ever after. The princess then confides that she's learned which door holds the lady, and which holds the tiger. 'Choose the left door,' she whispers.
What the prisoner must decide, of course, is whether to trust the princess. Has her love led her to save his life, or has it been trumped by her jealousy? In the end, he decides to trust her, and chooses the left door. The last two lines of the story read: 'So I leave it up to you, dear reader. Which came through the door, the lady or the tiger?'
Jaywalker was the author now. By posing the question 'Who was driving the Audi that evening, you or your husband?' he was forcing Amanda to choose a door. And in doing so, she would once and forever reveal her true self and seal her own fate. Either she was Amanda the selfless, who would save her husband at her own expense, or she was Amanda the selfish, who would doom her husband in order to save herself.
Which would she be, the lady or the tiger?
And the funny thing was, he could still remember the ending he'd composed to the story, almost word for word. Even as his seventh-grade classmates had taken sides, most of the girls writing that true love would prevail and it would be the lady who'd come out, and most of the boys opting for envy and the tiger, young Jaywalker had refused to do so. Why did it have to be one or the other? he'd asked himself. Why did he have to follow the rules? So at the moment of truth, right before the prisoner would be forced to make his choice, Jaywalker had had the
