Jodi Picoult - House Rules

The psychiatrist takes out a pen from his pocket. He sits down, too, and puts his yellow pad on his lap. “What’s your name?”

“Jacob Thomas Hunt,” I say.

“How old are you, Jacob?”

“Eighteen.”

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Don’t you ?”

He writes something down on his paper. “Do you know that you’ve been charged with a crime?”

“Yes. Thirteen VSA, section 2301. Murder committed by means of poison, or by lying in wait, or by willful, deliberate and premeditated killing, or committed in perpetrating or attempting to perpetrate arson, sexual assault, aggravated sexual assault, robbery or burglary, shall be murder in the first degree. All other kinds of murder shall be murder in the second degree. ”

I would have thought reciting the entire statute would impress Dr. Cohn, but he doesn’t register any emotion.

Maybe he’s got Asperger’s, too.

“Do you understand whether that’s a major or minor charge, Jacob?”

“It’s a felony that carries a minimum sentence of thirty-five years to life in prison.”

Dr. Cohn looks up over his glasses. “What about probation?” he asks. “Do you know what that is?”

“It’s when you have to check in with a court officer for a certain amount of time,” I say. “You have to follow rules and give reports, you have to have a job, you have to live somewhere where they know your address, you have to stay out of trouble, you have to not drink alcohol…”

“Right,” Dr. Cohn says. “Tell me, Jacob, what should your lawyer focus on in order to defend you?”

I shrug. “My innocence.”

“Do you understand what a plea of guilty or not guilty means?”

“Yes. Guilty means that you admit you committed the crime and that you need to be punished for it. Not guilty means you don’t admit you committed the crime and you don’t think you should be punished for it… but it’s not the same as being innocent, because in our legal system you get found guilty or not guilty. You don’t get found innocent, even if you are, like me.”

Dr. Cohn stares at me. “What’s a plea bargain?”

“When the prosecutor talks to the lawyer and they agree on a sentence, and then they both go before the judge to see if the judge will accept that, too. It means you don’t have to have a trial, because you’ve admitted to the crime by taking the plea.”

These are all easy questions, because the end of every CrimeBusters episode is a trial, where the evidence is relayed to a judge and jury. If I’d known the questions were going to be this simple, I wouldn’t have been so nervous. Instead, I’d been expecting Dr. Cohn to ask me about Jess. About what happened that afternoon.

And of course I couldn’t tell him, which would mean I’d have to lie, and that would be breaking the rules.

“What’s an insanity plea?” Dr. Cohn asks.

“When you claim you’re not guilty because you were dissociated from reality at the time you committed the crime and can’t be held legally responsible for your actions. Like Edward Norton in Primal Fear. ”

“Great flick,” the psychiatrist says. “Jacob, if your lawyer thinks you shouldn’t testify, would you agree to that?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to testify? I’m going to tell the truth.”

“When can you speak out in the courtroom?”

“I can’t. My lawyer told me not to talk to anyone.”

“What do you think your chances are of being found not guilty?”

“One hundred percent,” I say, “since I didn’t do it.”

“Do you know how strong the case is against you?”

“Obviously not, since I haven’t seen the discovery-”

“You know what discovery is?” Dr. Cohn asks, surprised.

I roll my eyes. “Pursuant to Rule Sixteen of the Vermont Rules of Discovery, Rules of Procedure for the Superior Court, the Prosecution is required to turn over all the evidence they have in the case, including the photographs, documents, statements, physical examinations, and any other material that they intend to use at the trial, and if they don’t turn it over, then I’m allowed to go free.”

“Do you understand the difference between the defense, the prosecution, the judge, the jury, the witnesses…?”

I nod. “The defense is my team-my lawyer and the witnesses and me, because we’re defending me against the crime the prosecution’s charged me with. The judge is the man or woman who has authority over everyone in the courtroom. He runs the trial and listens to the evidence and makes decisions about the law, and the judge I met a few days ago wasn’t very nice and sent me to jail.” I take a breath. “The jury is a group of twelve that listens to the facts and hears the evidence and the arguments of the lawyers and then goes into a room where no one can hear them or see them and they decide the outcome of the case.” As an afterthought I add, “The jury is supposed to be twelve peers, but technically that would mean every single person on the jury should have Asperger’s syndrome, because then they’d really understand me.”

Dr. Cohn makes another note. “Do you have confidence in your lawyer, Jacob?”

“No,” I say. “The first time I met him I wound up in jail for three days.”

“Do you agree with how he’s handling the case?”

“Obviously not. He needs to tell them the truth so that the charges will be dismissed.”

“That’s not how it works,” Dr. Cohn says.

“It worked that way in My Cousin Vinny, ” I tell him. “When Joe Pesci tells the court that the car isn’t the same as the one the witness identified because it had different tires. And it worked that way on CrimeBusters, episode eighty-eight. Do you want me to tell you about it?”

“No, that’s okay,” Dr. Cohn says. “Jacob, what would you do if a witness told a lie on the stand?”

I feel my fingers start to flutter, so I clamp my other hand down on top of them. “How would I know?” I say. “Only the liar knows that he’s lying.”

On paper, Jacob Hunt not only looks competent to stand trial but looks like a damn prelaw student, one who is probably more qualified to defend himself than I am.

Only the liar knows that he’s lying.

It’s the third time I’ve read Jacob’s answers to Dr. Cohn, the state shrink, and the third time that statement has jumped out at me. Is Jacob Hunt brilliant, with a photographic memory that I could have used back in law school? Or is he just snowing his mother… and everyone else?

Either way, during my last pass through the report, I realized that I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of challenging his competency-especially in a place like Vermont. No, if anyone’s feeling incompetent right now, it’s me-because I have to tell Emma that I’m not even going to fight the State on this one.

I drive to the Hunts’-since Emma and Jacob are basically under house arrest, I can’t very well ask them to meet me at my office. Thor’s riding in my lap, half tucked beneath the steering wheel.

I pull into the driveway and cut the ignition but don’t make a move to get out of the car. “If she goes haywire,” I tell the dog, “I’m counting on you to defend me.”

Because it’s cold today-just above zero degrees-I carry Thor inside my coat and head to the front door. Emma answers before I can even knock. “Hi,” she says. “It’s good to see you.” She even smiles a little, which makes her soft around all the edges. “Frankly, when you’re stuck in the house, even a visit from the electric company meter reader is a highlight of the day.”

“And here I thought you were starting to like me.” Thor pops his head between the buttons of my coat. “Would it be okay to bring him in? It’s really cold in the car.”