John Lescroart - The 13th Juror

"Except we think she's already on trial."

"Well, what about if it isn't her? Look, Abe, the Romans hated Larry Witt. All I'm asking you to do is find out if they were in Tahiti or some place on December 28 so I can cross them off."

"That's all, huh? Find out what somebody was doing on a certain day ten months ago? You saw them, didn't you? Why didn't you ask them?"

"I think it was that the opportunity never came up."

"So I go find out, right? Piece of cake. Speaking of which, cut me a little of that, would you?"

The remains of Jacob's birthday cake, pretty well destroyed, were on the drain, and Hardy scooped some of it onto a paper plate and brought it back to the table. "See what a friend I am?"

Glitsky rubbed a finger through the frosting, popped it into his mouth. "Absurd," he said.

Hardy shrugged. "But so much of life is."

Freeman did not have two bottles of wine at his French restaurant. Instead, after the first one, he decided he had to take another crack at Jennifer, get to the bottom of this affair issue.

But he didn't make it upstairs to the jail. Ken Lightner was coming down the wide steps at the front of the Hall of Justice when Freeman arrived. Not given to hesitation in any event, Freeman jumped out of the cab, bumping his head on the door and calling, "Dr. Lightner, wait a minute, would you?"

Fumbling for some money, Freeman threw a mixed handful of coins and bills through the cab's front window. Lightner had come down the steps. "Mr. Freeman, I'm sorry, but it's late and I'm very tired. Whatever this is, it's going to have to wait."

"It's not going to have to do anything of the kind, sir. I need the truth from you and I need it now."

Lightner gestured back toward the building. "I told the truth in there this afternoon."

"And tomorrow, if I choose, I get to cross-examine you about that, about what you said. Would you rather we get to it then? What have you been doing in there? Visiting my client?"

"Visiting my patient, Mr. Freeman. My patient."

"And your lover?"

This time Lightner's response was measured. "I've denied that under oath. You're going to have to accept that."

"I don't accept it," Freeman said. "I don't believe it, and that makes you my best suspect."

"Me? Are you joking?"

Freeman jabbed a finger. "Yeah, you. No, I'm not joking. If you were having an affair with Jennifer, you've got at least as good a motive as she does to have killed her husband." Of course he didn't really believe that, but he had to try. "So I'll look forward to talking to you tomorrow on the stand, and if you think you're tired now…" Freeman headed for the wide doorway.

"Now just a minute…"

Freeman turned. "It's going to take a sight more than a minute, Doctor. You got the time or not? If not, I've got better things to do."

They were ten feet apart, Freeman flat on his feet like a fighter. Lightner scratched at his beard. "All right," he said. "But not here."

"I know a place," Freeman said, already moving, leading the way across Bryant, through the doors and down the steps to the underground labyrinth leading to Lou the Greek's. This time of night the place was nearly empty. Lou was wiping up, the TV was dark. Two regulars quietly nursed beers and shots at the bar and a couple were wrapped around each other in a side booth. Freeman took Lightner to the back, to another booth. When Lou started toward them, Freeman waved him away.

"My only concern, Mr. Freeman, is Jennifer." It hadn't been warm outside and Lou's wasn't any better, but Lightner had a sheen of sweat on his brow that he seemed unaware of.

"Well, good, Doctor, that gets us off on the right foot." Freeman knocked on the table, loud, calling out. "On second thought, Lou, bring us two cold ones, would you?" Back to Dr. Lightner, he crossed his hands in front of him. "I'm listening, Doctor."

Again the beard got scratched. "It's complicated. She thinks she's in love. With me. It's a common phenomenon, transference, reinforced by the situation she had at home."

"Transference? Where you sleep with her?"

Lightner shook his head. "Look, Mr. Freeman, I am not a therapist who sleeps with his patient. I don't really care if you believe that or not. That would really damage her. She doesn't need that, she didn't need that, even if she thinks she did…"

"And she thought she did?"

Lou came back with the beers, put them on the table, disappeared. Freeman put his hand around one and drew it to him, drinking, listening. Lightner sat there, reflecting, ignoring his bottle. "It was not an easy week," he said. "Down there, I mean. In Costa Rica…"

Freeman took another swig of beer. "So you didn't sleep with her. But why didn't you tell us about how she felt?"

Lightner was shaking his head side to side, as though lecturing a child. "That would have been rather stupid."

"Why?"

"Because it would announce to the jury that Jennifer wasn't in love with her husband, that she wanted out of the marriage. You think that would help her, help your case?"

Freeman shrugged. "It's out now, Doctor. How about that?"

"It came out. Nobody volunteered it. There's a difference." Lightner's voice was down to a near-whisper. "Listen, please, do you think if I thought it would help Jennifer that I wouldn't have lied? I'm human, I'm even at least a little in love with her." He shook his head. "It happens both ways in therapy. A professional recognizes it and controls it." He seemed to notice the beer for the first time and pulled it toward him. "Don't you see, she realizes that, it gives her the freedom to feel as she does and not be afraid I will take advantage of it. It's in part why she trusts me."

"But she stayed with you."

"She was scared, Mr. Freeman. She wanted to stay with me. I decided to allow it. It may have been bad judgment. As I said, I'm human too. Even though I am a shrink." He half-smiled.

Now Lightner took a drink. "That's all of it, Mr. Freeman, and you can believe me or not. I could not turn her out. We draw our own lines. I let her stay in the room with me. Platonically."

Freeman crossed his hands in front of him again. He sighed. It was not impossible. "I still say you could have told me this earlier."

"I didn’t want it to come out at all, don't you understand that? Nothing about it. I was afraid it would hurt Jennifer at this trial. It would seem to say that she had a strong motive – in addition to the money, or whatever else they're saying, to get rid of her husband. Wouldn't it? It would cast her in the role of a cheating wife."

"And now it has."

Finally, Lightner seemed to lose his patience. He slapped at the table. "Well, that was not me. I did not make that happen. And if you want to bring it up again tomorrow and hammer at me, if you think you'll be doing Jennifer any good, then so be it. I'll repeat what I've told you here and you can watch while the jury takes in the fact that Jennifer had a strong emotional reason to kill her husband, maybe even her child, maybe even on purpose… so that she could run away and start a new life with her shrink." He grimaced. "If you really think that's going to help her… well, you can't possibly. The best thing you can do for Jennifer, Mr. Freeman, is forget about her and me."

Sipping his beer, Freeman nodded. "It also lets you off."

Lightner shook his head again, as though regretting what he was about to say. "Mr. Freeman," he said, "I was in my office that morning and I can establish that. I'm afraid the jury is going to focus on Jennifer, on her supposed motive, or motives, on the fact that she didn't love her husband anymore, that she wanted out of a terrible marriage." Lightner drank off half his beer. "My God," he said, "you're the lawyer. Do you think I wanted this to happen? Do I have to draw you a picture?"