LITMIR.BIZ

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and preparing his case—visiting the scene of the crime, locating and rounding up witnesses, and helping out with a bunch of other details about which he, as the accused, may have the greatest knowledge. He loses his job or drops out of school, or both. As a result, he becomes a less compelling witness in front of the jury, and a less likely candidate for a lenient sentence in the eyes of the judge. Bail, and having the resources to post it, may not be the most obvious way the system discriminates between the rich and the poor, but it often becomes one of the most significant.

      So Darren’s getting bailed out was as crucial as it was surprising. It was also, Jaywalker dared to hope, something of a good omen. The case had started out badly. The arrest, the disclosure of multiple rapes, the certainty of Joanne Kenarden’s identification and the setting of high bail had been one blow after another. Maybe the tide was beginning to turn. Maybe something else good would happen.

      

      Nothing happened.

      Had Jaywalker simply been deluding himself when he’d told Darren he wanted his movements monitored round-the-clock by a responsible adult? Had he been engaging in nothing but wishful thinking by pretending that Darren wasn’t the rapist, and that somehow five victims could all have misidentified him?

      Or had he simply been doing what defense lawyers do, willingly playing along with a client’s insistence upon his innocence until the time was ripe to get real and face the unpleasant truth? In quiet moments that weekend, it surely seemed so.

      

      On Monday afternoon, Darren showed up at Jaywalker’s office, accompanied by his father. They spent two hours together, a good part of it with Marlin banished to the waiting room. Admitting you were a rapist was hard enough, Jaywalker reasoned; admitting it in front of your father might border on the impossible. But to Darren, it seemed to make no difference. He continued to deny any knowledge of the rapes.

      Jaywalker did his best to hide his disbelief. One victim could certainly be mistaken. Two, perhaps. Even three, however unlikely, was possible. But five?

      Yet throughout the session, Darren never once wavered in his denials. Nor did he avoid making and holding eye contact, or lapse into any of the other familiar tells Jaywalker had seen so often in his Legal Aid days—the barely noticeable facial tics, the collar tugs, the hand involuntarily rising to cover the mouth, the sudden interest in one’s shoes or the pencils on the desk or the pictures on the wall. He did stutter from time to time, but—or so it seemed to Jaywalker—no more or less than usual when pressed about his claim of innocence. And every so often, in spite of himself, Jaywalker would find himself wondering if perhaps Darren might be telling the truth after all. But then he would remember that there were five women, each of them prepared to point Darren out as her attacker. As much as he liked this young man—and he was terribly easy to like—and wanted to believe him, Jaywalker kept reminding himself that Darren was lying. He had to be.

      Marlin asked what the fee was going to be. Jaywalker started to explain that it looked as though they were in this for the long haul, that there was going to be a trial, maybe even several.

      “I understand, Jay. You tell me how much, and I’ll pay it. It may take me some time, but I’ll pay it.”

      Up to that point, the most that Jaywalker had ever charged for a case had been twenty-five hundred dollars. It had been a drug dealer, who’d probably been pocketing that much in a week. Jaywalker had gotten him a plea bargain, five years probation. For Darren, there wasn’t going to be a plea bargain, and there certainly wasn’t going to be any probation.

      “Five thousand dollars,” said Jaywalker, and held his breath.

      Marlin squinted skeptically. “Are you sure that’s enough?” he asked.

      “I’m sure,” said Jaywalker, and they shook hands on it.

      Enough? Jaywalker felt like he’d broken the bank.

      

      Wednesday came. Jaywalker met Darren outside the courtroom known as Part 1-D. Both his parents were with him, as well as his wife, Charlene. She’d missed the arraignment and the office appointment because she’d been home caring for their son, and because she’d feared the experience might prove too much for her. Or maybe it was the thought that her husband was a rapist. In any event, on this day Darren’s sister Janie had been enlisted to babysit, freeing Charlene to come. She was short and a bit on the heavy side, not so unlike her mother-in-law. Perhaps it was her pregnancy beginning to show, perhaps not. Although she had a pleasant enough smile, she wasn’t nearly as pretty as Darren was handsome. Jaywalker found himself wondering if Charlene’s physical shortcomings might not have contributed to her husband’s having become a rapist.

      Inez reported that Darren’s name didn’t seem to be listed on the calendar posted outside the courtroom. Jaywalker looked and couldn’t find it, either. A check with the clerk’s office revealed the reason.

      

      KINGSTON, Darren

      Docket No. X974513

      Off Calendar—Indicted

      Part 12, 9/21

      

      Jaywalker explained to the Kingstons that their trip had been a wasted one. As expected, Jacob Pope had gone directly to the grand jury. There would be no preliminary hearing. Instead, Darren would be arraigned on an indictment in Supreme Court that Friday. Not that anyone had called Jaywalker to alert him and save them the trip. To the system, defendants, their families and their lawyers were pretty much chopped liver.

      Downstairs, Jaywalker ushered Darren away from his family. He had a question for him, and he not only wanted to hear Darren’s answer, but he also wanted to see his reaction. And he didn’t want Darren posturing for the benefit of his family, or looking to them for advice. He watched the young man closely as he spoke to him.

      “Darren,” he said, “how would you feel about taking a lie detector test?” He used the phrase lie detector test, instead of the more technically correct polygraph examination, because he wanted to make sure Darren understood the question the first time he asked him and wouldn’t be able to buy time by asking, “What’s that?”

      Darren’s answer came without hesitation. “I’d love to, Jay, if it’ll help.”

      “Well,” said Jaywalker, “I can’t promise it’ll help. But it will show if you’re telling the truth. The problem is, it’ll also show if you’re lying. I can guarantee that.”

      “I’m not lying, Jay.”

      “I know that, Darren.” It was Jaywalker’s second lie in as many statements. “But I’m prejudiced. I’m your lawyer. Besides that, I like you. So as much as I believe you, I have to remind myself that I could be wrong. And you have to understand that if you did commit the rapes, the worst possible thing you could do now would be to take the test.”

      Darren started to say something, but Jaywalker held up a hand and cut him off in mid-stutter. He wanted Darren to hear him out.

      “Look,” he said, “if you did do those things, if something happened to make you snap, if it is you these women are talking about, it’s not the end of the world. There are doctors, psychiatrists, programs. There are ways to get you help. Believe it or not, there are even ways to keep you out of prison.” It was yet another lie. “So take a moment to think before you decide.”

      Jaywalker’s little speech finished, he looked Darren hard in the eye. And as he waited for a response, he realized that just as he was torn between wanting to believe Darren and not being able to, so, too, was he torn between wanting him to be innocent and wanting him to be guilty. What he really wanted was for Darren to tell him, “I can’t take a lie detector, Jay. I did those things.” Together they could break the news to his parents, to his wife. There would be some initial shock and disbelief, followed by a lot of crying all around. But the rest would be simple and straightforward. Psychiatrists, psychologists. Perhaps even an insanity defense, but more likely a guilty plea. But the worst would be over, the nagging uncertainty

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