Scott Turow - The Burden of Proof

Stern meditated an instant on Peter's dim hopes for him.

They expected, inalterably, the worst of each other.

"On the contrary, I believe it was prudent. I am certain you did your utmost. You were a devoted son, Peter, to your mother."

Peter puckered his lips a bit at the final words, but said no more.

"And how had you divined what Dixon's,role was in your mother's illness?"

Peter looked up. "I'd taken a medical history from him.

Remember? I was his doctor. After I talked to Nate, I checked my notes. The dates matched. He had gonorrhea, too, in Korea, did you know that?"

It had not come up in discussion, said Stern.

"He thinks it made him sterile," Peter said. It was a thought, a professional 6bscrvation. With it, he walked into the other room and sat'down on the blue foam sofa. His bravery, his moral certitude seemed to be flagging. His look was turning abject.

"So, when you heard about John's dilemma, it was not entirely accidental that you began to consider how this might be turned back against Dixon."

Peter did not answer.

Stern approached from the kitchen. "It was gallant of you, Peter, to fight your mother's battles. Not to mention mine." Stern, standing, took a moment to turn a dark countenance on his son, then moved to the window. Evening was coming . through a great rosy sky. The last of the near-town commuters were in the street now, a stream of isolated persons carrying home, from various fancy shops, dihners which they would eat in silence, alone.

"And may I now demand the last piece, Peter?"

"Which is?"

"How was it that your mother came to learn of this scheme to accuse Dixon?"

In his surprise, Peter let forth a brief sound-part laughter, part groan.

"You're smart," Peter said to him. "I'll always give you that."

Stern dipped his head in appreciation." And the answer?"

"She could see how distraught Kate was. She knew something was wrong.

Finally, she pried some of it out of her. Kate told her what John had done at MD. And that I was trying to work it out. No details."

"And of her pregnancy Kate said what?"

"Nothing. Not a word. She still wasn't,positive she wouldn't have to terminate."

Slowly, Stern nodded. That would fit.

"Anyway, so Morn came to see me, to find out what was going on. I told her she shouldn't worry about it. But naturally that didn't satisfy her."

"And so you informed her what you had done?"

"Yeah.

Eventually."

"Thinking what? That she would be delighted? That she, of all people, Would share your desire for vengeance on Dixon?"

"You don't have to try tO make it sound so ludicrous."

"Oh, I see your logic, Peter. You carried in Dixon I'Ve a cat out mousing and laid him at your mother's feet. And her reaction-shall I guess?-was horror."

"Horror," said Peter. "I tried to explain it to her. You know. That it was the best thing for everybody in the end, but she wouldn't hear it."

"And how far along had your plan proceeded by then?"

"Pretty far. Sennett'd met John. It was just abouta done deal. I'd refused to let him take a lie detector, but we'd agreed that he'd stay undercover at MD and wear a hidden tape recorder-what do they call it?

Wear a wire. ' ' "On Dixon?" By the window, Stern was still. "And what was to happen when your uncle was tape-recorded denying any role in the scheme?"

Peter looked at him at length. "You still don't get it, do you?"

Weary of being derided, Stern closed his eyes for an instant and searched in himself for restraint.

"I had to explain it to Mom, too. The idea wasn't to get Uncle Dixon for what John did. I mean, he didn't do it, after all. I knew he would deny it. He'd say it was all John's doing. And John would say Dixon was scared and was trying to save his skin by blaming the whole thing on him.

It would be a pissing contest in the end, a flatfooted fucking tie.

There'd be nobody to prosecute because the government would never know which version was true.

Everybody'd just go on. With no jail. And no torture. It was a decent solution for both of them."

"But?"

"But he kept his mouth shut. Uncle Dixon did."

"Why?"

Peter threw both hands in the air.

"You ask me? You're his lawyer. I don't know what's going on. I sit awake at night. I just can't believe it's gone as far as it has. Have you got any idea?"

Stern pondered, reluctant to speak.

"I have suspected for a few days now that he is assuming blame that properly lies with John and Kate. I cannot imagine what would move him to do that, particularly given what you tell me." He turned back to. the old double-hung window, the frame lumpy with generations of paint. "And what happened to this plan to tape-record Dixon?"

"That's why they were trying to subpoena him.. In March?

They were sure he'd go running for John as soon as he was served. It was a setup. John was wearing the equipment for two weeks. But the agents could never find Dixon. And once they did, he wouldn't talk to John. I mean, not even hello or goodbye. There hasn't been word one between them in months. Uncle Dixon just gives him his killer look-John is still terrified. Sennett figures you'd warned Dixon not to go near him."

"Need I ask, Peter, how Agent Horn was finally able to find your uncle to serve him that day?"

"No, you needn't ask. They were supposed to catch up with him outside, as he came in."

Stern shook his head. How pitiful it was. He returned to the kitchen for his suit coat.

"You've placed yourself in enormous jeopardy, Peter. If the government is ever able to piece this together, you will join your brother-in-law in prison."

"Oh, I was scared at first. But the three of us talked about what would happen if it all went to shit." Peter smiled warmly. "How do they prove I knew John was lying?"

Peter had learned a good deal in those years sitting at his father's dinner table with his bored, superior look. When his children were young, Stern would look at them, arrayed at that table, with such gratitude-they were all clever, all healthy, all pleasing to the eye.

They had every good fortune, he thought.

"They were never really skeptical," said Peter. "After they went out to the bank and confirmed that Dixon had written the check to cover the debit on the Wunderkind account.

They never seemed to figure there could be any other reason he might do it. And, of course, Dixon had the records that showed who owned the account, and was hiding them. And what's-her-name even lied for him in the grand jury. It looked pretty convincing," said Peter.

"You are referring to Margy?"

"Yeah. Kyle says that after the indictment they'll give her a chance to 'refresh her recollection." "He made the quotation marks in the air.

Stern straightened the sleeves on his coat. His son, re considering everything, sat with his head in his hands. Occasionally, Stern was called upon to represent young people-sixteen, seventeen, eighteen years old, children really-who had taken part in events so heinous that they would be tried as adults. The most recent example was Robert Fouret, a sulky college freshman who, stoned on something, had put his father's Porsche in drive rather than reverse and crashed his waiting girlfriend against the garage wall, killing her. In these circumstances Stern always felt for the parents, wealthy people who had retained hun in the hope that he could repair all damage, and who discovered in time that not even a favorable sentence would still the reverberations of great wrongs. It was the parents who saw clearly, helplessly, the way the excesses and impulses of youth, stupid empty-headed acts, childish compulsions acted out in an instant, could burden and even extinguish the opportunities of a young life.

Stern saw this, too. But he spared himself, at least for the moment, that anguish, For the moment, all that made itself clear was that his son and he had reached a point of termination. Within, in his own emotional theater, some final curtain had come splashing down. No doubt he had responsibilities here; he would suffer intensely when it came time to assess blame.