James Patterson - Judge & Jury

SHE OPENED HER EYES very slowly.

She felt no pain. Just woozy and unreal. She was here-but she wasn't. A leaden pressure was in her chest. Where was she? What had happened? Tubes were coming out of her, attached everywhere. She tried to move but couldn't.

Nothing. No power over her own body. Was she paralyzed? How had it happened?

Then Andie began to panic. Something very heavy and bulky was blocking her throat. Making her gag. She couldn't speak because of the obstruction.

A nurse came in. Just the look on the nurse's face told her. Something terrible has happened. What?

"Andie. Don't try to talk, sweetheart. There's a tube down your throat to help you breathe. You're in Bellevue Hospital. You've been in surgery. You're going to be okay."

Andie made herself nod, eyes flicking wildly around the room. The hospital room.

Then it started to come back to her.

The jurors' bus. She had been on the bus. A gray van had pulled up…

That's when the panic started to grip her chest again. Her eyes darted anxiously toward the nurse. What happened next? She tried to speak again, but could only cough and gag. Her fingers found the nurse's hand somehow. She managed to grab two fingers. She held on as tight as she could.

My son… Where is Jarrod?

"Please." The nurse squeezed back."Try and stay calm now, Andie."

She knew something horrible had happened, something unbelievable. She tried to sound out Jarrod's name, but her air passage was blocked. And her mouth was as dry as sandpaper. Please, please, my son.

But something was forcing her to close her eyes, and Andie couldn't fight it.

WHEN SHE OPENED HER EYES again, someone else was standing there. She blinked sleepily. FBI. The one with the smile.

But he wasn't smiling now. Actually, he looked terrible.

Memories of what had happened began flashing in her mind. The bus stopped at a red light. Then the van. The two men running away. She had reached out and tugged Jarrod close to her.

Jarrod?

Her eyes went back to the FBI man. She tried to scream out her son's name. Please, don't you understand? Can't you read it in my eyes?

He just looked at her and shook his head."I'm sorry."

Sorry? she repeated to herself. It took a moment to register. What is he saying? Sorry for what?

She felt him place his fingers lightly on her hand. Then a squeeze. His touch told her everything.

It was rushing back at her now. Her panic when she saw the men running from the van. The terrible explosion. Then she was thrown back. She remembered calling Jarrod's name over and over.

Her body spasmed in shock now.

Andie felt something burn a path down her cheek. This can't be real. This can't have happened.

The FBI man wiped away her tear.

She still hadn't been told what happened. They didn't have to tell her now. She knew. She could see it in his eyes.

Oh, my poor Jarrod.

Tears began streaming down Andie's cheeks, and she had the feeling that they would never stop.

THEY DON'T USUALLY ALLOW anyone inside the cell blocks at this time of night, even law enforcement. Tonight, I was on my own.

"Nick, it's late," said Trevor Ellis, who was in charge of the sixth-floor cell block, where witnesses and defendants were held in the Manhattan County Jail. We passed through the electronic doors together. Only the night crew was around.

There was a guard at the desk, checking monitors. Trevor nodded for him to take a break."I'm okay with Agent Pellisante here. Get some coffee."

"It's official business," I told Trevor. We walked some more, then stopped at the end of the corridor. Cavello's cell was cordoned off, at the very end of the long wing.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Ellis looked at me.

Nineteen people had died this afternoon. Seventeen jurors. My jurors. One victim was a kid on his tenth birthday. Some things you just have to do-regardless of the risk or the consequences.

"Official business," I repeated.

"Yeah," he said."You give him some official business for me."

Cavello's electronic cell door clicked open.

He was lying on a cot with his knees drawn up and an arm crooked behind his head. His eyes widened when he saw who it was.

"Nicky," he said, barely hiding that same mocking grin I had seen so often in the courtroom."Jesus, I just heard. What a mess!" He slowly raised himself up off the cot."I want to tell you how sorry I…"

I slugged him in the face, and he went down.

"Jeez, Nicky." Cavello grunted, rubbing his jaw. He reached for the metal cot post and pulled himself back up, grinning."Y'know, I heard of hung juries before, but this one takes on a whole new meaning."

I hit him again. Harder. Cavello slammed back against the concrete wall. He still stared at me with a sort of laughing arrogance, an animal savagery behind his eyes."Your fault, Nicky. What'd you expect? I was gonna roll over and die? You knew that. You know me, like nobody else does." He wiped away a trickle of blood with the back of his hand.

I went over and yanked him off the floor by his collar. He was still wearing the same shirt he had on in the courtroom that day.

"You may think you've won, you piece of shit, but I'm gonna dedicate my life to you going down. Nineteen people died. One of them was a ten-year-old kid."

"There was a kid on that bus?" Cavello said, showing mock surprise."Jesus, Pellisante, you oughta know better than that."

I punched him with everything I had. Cavello crashed into the cell wall again. I couldn't control myself. I'd never hated one person so much.

I heard Trevor Ellis behind me."Okay, Nick, that's enough."

I ignored him. I pulled Cavello up again and threw him to the other side of the cell. He went into a metal sink and fell to the floor. I went and pulled him up again. There was blood all over his shirt."They were just doing their duty," I screamed in his face.

"Go on," Cavello mocked."Hit me. It doesn't hurt. But you got it wrong. I told you. No court can hold me. You say I'm going down." He spat out a glob of blood."Maybe. But it won't be from you. You see those cameras up there? They got every second of this. You're through. I won't go down. But you will, Nicky Smiles."

I hit him again, and Cavello spun backward against the concrete wall. Trevor Ellis and a cell-block guard rushed in behind me. One of them pinned my arms while the other got between me and Cavello. He struggled to his feet again. He was wobbly, holding his side.

"Look at you." Cavello started to laugh."You think you got me? You're the one who's through. You're the one gonna be seeing that kid every day for the rest of your life. Me, I'll sleep like a baby tonight."

Trevor and the guard yanked me out of the cell, but Cavello called after me. His words and laughter echoed down the hall.

"Like a baby, Pellisante. You hear that? First day in a month, I don't have to worry about a goddamn trial."

ELBOWS ON MY DESK, I looked out at the class of twenty-two astonishingly smug and overconfident first-year law students.

"Can anyone tell me why the law permits law enforcement agents to use deceit at the investigative stage, when they're not even sure of a suspect's guilt, but strictly forbids them from lying during the testimonial stage, when they're absolutely sure the suspect is a criminal?"

Five months had passed. I had taken an extended leave from the Bureau, and I'd been teaching a course in criminal ethics at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice since January.