Jodie Picoult - Plain Truth

“What did that lead you to believe?”

Lizzie raised her brows. “At first I wondered if he’d found out that Katie Fisher had two-timed him-and if he’d smothered the baby out of revenge. But Samuel Stoltzfus lives ten miles from the Fisher farm with his parents, who confirmed that he was sleeping there during the window of time the medical examiner said death occurred. Then I began to think that maybe I had it backward-that the information pointed to the defendant, instead. I mean, here was a motive: Amish girl, Amish parents, Amish boyfriend-and she gets pregnant by someone else? That’s an excuse to hide the birth, maybe even get rid of it.”

“Did you interview anyone else?”

“Yes, Levi Esch, the second hired hand on the farm. He said that the defendant had been sneaking to Penn State for the past six years to meet with her brother. Jacob Fisher did not live like the Amish anymore, but like any other college student.”

“Why was that relevant?”

Lizzie smiled. “It’s a lot easier to meet a guy other than your Amish boyfriend when a whole new world is at your fingertips-one with booze and frat parties and Maybelline.”

“Did you speak to Jacob Fisher, too?”

“Yes, I did. He confirmed the defendant’s secret visits and said he had not known of his sister’s pregnancy. He also told me that the reason the defendant had to visit him behind her father’s back was because he was no longer welcome at home.”

George feigned confusion. “How come?”

“The Amish don’t attend school past eighth grade, but Jacob had wanted to continue his education. Breaking that rule got him excommunicated from the Amish church. Aaron Fisher took the punishment one step further, and disowned Jacob. Sarah Fisher followed her husband’s wishes, but sent her daughter to visit Jacob covertly.”

“How did this affect your thinking about the case?”

“All of a sudden,” Lizzie said, “things became more clear. If I were the defendant, and I knew that my own brother had been exiled for something as simple as studying, I’d be very careful not to break any rules. Call me crazy, but having a baby out of wedlock is a more severe infraction than reading Shakespeare on the side. That means if she didn’t find a way to hide what had happened, she was going to be tossed out of her home and her family, not to mention her church. So she concealed the pregnancy for seven months. Then she had the baby-and concealed that, too.”

“Did you determine the identity of the father?”

“We did not.”

“Did you consider any other suspects, beside the defendant?”

Lizzie sighed. “You know, I tried to. But too much didn’t add up. The birth occurred two and a half months early, in a place with no phone and no electricity-which means no one could have been called, or have known about it, unless they were living at the farm and heard the defendant’s labor. As for a stranger coming by, what’s the chance of someone dropping in unannounced at two A.M. on an Amish farm? And if a stranger did show up, why kill the baby? And why wouldn’t the defendant have mentioned this?

“So that left me with family members. But only one of them had lied about the pregnancy and birth to my face. For only one of them were the stakes frighteningly high should news of this baby get out. And for only one of them did we have evidence placing her at the scene of the crime.” Lizzie glanced at the defendant’s table. “In my opinion, the facts clearly show that Katie Fisher smothered her newborn.”

When Ellie Hathaway stood up to do her cross-examination, Lizzie squared her shoulders. She tried to remember what George had said about the attorney’s ruthlessness, her ability to worm answers out of the most stubborn witnesses. From the looks of her, Lizzie didn’t doubt it a bit. Lizzie could hold her own with the boys in the department, but Ellie Hathaway’s cropped hair and angular suit made it seem as if any of the softer edges of her personality had long been hacked away.

Which is why Lizzie nearly fell over in her seat when the attorney approached her with a genuine, friendly smile. “Did you know I used to spend summers here?”

Lizzie blinked at her. “At the courthouse?”

“No,” Ellie laughed, “contrary to popular belief. I meant in East Paradise.”

“I did not know that,” Lizzie said stiffly.

“Well, my aunt lives here. Used to own a little farm.” She grinned. “But that was before real estate taxes went as high as the new cellular towers.”

At that, Lizzie chuckled under her breath. “That’s why I rent.”

“Your Honor,” George interrupted, giving his witness a warning look, “I’m certain the jury doesn’t need to hear Ms. Hathaway’s stroll down memory lane.”

The judge nodded. “Is there a point to this, counselor?”

“Yes, Your Honor. It’s that growing up around here, you get to watch the Amish quite a bit.” She turned to Lizzie. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes.”

“You said you hadn’t booked many Amish. When was the last one?”

Lizzie backpedaled mentally. “About five months ago. A seventeen-year-old who drove his buggy into a ditch under the influence.”

“And before that? How long had it been?”

She tried, but she couldn’t remember. “I don’t know.”

“But a good length of time?”

“I’d say so,” Lizzie admitted.

“In your dealings . . . both professional and personal . . . have you found the Amish to be fairly gentle people?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what happens when an unwed Amish girl has a baby?”

“I’ve heard that they take care of their own,” Lizzie said.

“That’s right, and Katie wouldn’t have been excommunicated-only shunned for a while. Then she’d be forgiven and welcomed back with open arms. So where’s the motive for murder?”

“In her father’s actions,” Lizzie explained. “There are ways around excommunication if you want to keep in touch with family members who’ve left the church, but Aaron Fisher didn’t allow them when he banished the defendant’s brother. That severe fact was in the back of her mind, all the time.”

“I thought you didn’t interview Mr. Fisher.”

“I didn’t.”

“Ah,” Ellie said. “So now you’re psychic?”

“I interviewed his son,” Lizzie countered.

“Talking to a son won’t tell you what’s in the father’s mind. Just like looking at a dead baby doesn’t tell you that its mother killed it, right?”

“Objection!”

“Withdrawn,” Ellie said smoothly. “Do you find it odd that an Amish woman is being accused of murder?”

Lizzie looked at George. “It’s an aberration. But the fact is, it happened.”

“Did it? Your scientific proof confirms that Katie had that baby. That’s indisputable. But does having that baby necessarily lead to killing that baby?”

“No.”

“You also mentioned that you found a footprint in the dirt near where the infant’s body was found. In your mind, this links Katie to murder?”

“Yes,” Lizzie said. “Since we know that she wears a size seven. It’s not convicting evidence in and of itself, but it certainly adds support to our theory.”

“Is there any way to prove that this specific footprint was made by Katie’s foot?”

Lizzie folded her hands together. “Not conclusively.”

“I wear a size seven shoe, Detective Munro. So theoretically, it could have been my foot that made that print, correct?”

“You weren’t in the barn that morning.”

“Did you know that a size seven adult woman’s shoe is also approximately equivalent in length to a size five child’s shoe?”

“I didn’t.”

“Did you know that Levi Stoltzfus wears a size five shoe?”