Joseph Teller - Depraved Indifference

She answered his preliminary questions flawlessly. She was just nervous enough to make her answers come off as real. She was earnest and thoughtful. And she was likable. Likable counts, Jaywalker knew. Then again, he hadn't gotten to the hard part yet. But he was about to.

JAYWALKER: Did there come a time in the early evening hours of May 27 that you received a phone call from your husband?

AMANDA: Yes.

JAYWALKER: And in response to that phone call, did you do something?

AMANDA: Yes. I called my son, Eric, who was staying at his father's at that time. And I told him to meet me downstairs in ten minutes, that we were going to pick up his father.

JAYWALKER: And did you in fact pick up Eric?

AMANDA: Yes.

JAYWALKER: And did the two of you go somewhere?

AMANDA: Yes. We drove-I drove to Nyack, to a place called the End Zone.

JAYWALKER: What happened when you got there?

AMANDA: I sent Eric in to get his father. I waited in the car. I was very angry, and I didn't want to cause a scene in the place.

JAYWALKER: What happened next?

AMANDA: Carter and Eric came out a few minutes later. I could see them arguing. I could also tell that Carter had been drinking, and had probably had too much. He gets like that sometimes. After a while, Eric came back over to my car and said, "I give up. You deal with him." Or something like that. So I- So I It was the first sign that she was about to lose it. Jaywalker looked at her hard, tried to will her to calm down. You can do this, he told her silently, hoping that his assurance could somehow take flight, travel the twenty paces between them, and reinforce her.

JAYWALKER: Are you okay?

AMANDA: Yes. No. I don't know.

JAYWALKER: Would you like a few minutes?

AMANDA: No. I'm all right.

JAYWALKER: Okay. So what did you do after Eric came back and told you to deal with his father?

AMANDA: I got out of my car and walked over to Carter. By that time he was standing next to his car, the Audi. He was fumbling with the keys, trying to unlock the door.

JAYWALKER: What happened next?

AMANDA: (No response)

JAYWALKER: Can you tell us what happened next?

AMANDA: We-we argued. I told him he was too drunk to drive. He refused to let Eric drive my car because he only had a learner's permit that wasn't good after dark. We yelled and screamed a lot.

JAYWALKER: And?

AMANDA: And then at some point, Eric just drove off in my car. I figured that ought to settle things. You know, the permit no longer mattered. Now I could drive the Audi. But Carter wasn't finished arguing. And we started fighting over the keys.

Knowing that the moment of truth was coming, Jaywalker paused for a moment to signal the jurors that something big was coming. When finally he asked his next question, he asked it softly, almost sadly.

JAYWALKER: And who won the fight over the keys?

AMANDA: (No response)

JAYWALKER: Who won the fight over the keys?

AMANDA: I did. I knocked the keys out of his hand. They fell onto the pavement. I picked them up before he could.

JAYWALKER: Did there come a time when the two of you got into the Audi?

AMANDA: (No response)

JAYWALKER: Mrs. Drake?

AMANDA: Yes.

Her voice was so faint that it was barely audible. Only the total silence in the rest of the courtroom allowed it to be heard.

JAYWALKER: Who got behind the wheel?

AMANDA: (No response)

JAYWALKER: Mrs. Drake?

Which was when it happened.

A tiny movement at the prosecution table caught Jaywalker's eye. He looked over and saw Investigator William Sheetz lean forward ever so slightly, reach behind him, remove something from the back of his belt, and place it on the table in front of him.

Later on, in the internal investigation that would follow the trial, Sheetz would insist under oath that he did what he did only because the item had been digging into his lower back and causing him discomfort. He'd also claim that he wasn't even aware that seconds later he began idly playing with it, the way one might play with a paper clip or a pencil, without even realizing it. The administrative judge conducting a hearing in that investigation would accept Sheetz's explanation and clear him on charges of official misconduct, obstruction of justice, and intimidation of a witness.

But everyone in the courtroom knew better.

Because the thing about it was, the item made a sound as soon as Sheetz began playing with it. And nothing, absolutely nothing, makes quite the sound that a pair of handcuffs does when one slides the business end of one 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.