Defending Jacob(50)

I said, “Laurie?”

In a shaky voice, she said to the caller, “Who is this? Where did you get this number?”

More listening.

“Don’t call here again. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare call here again.”

I took the phone from her gently and hung it up.

“Oh my God, Andy.”

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

We went back to the table and sat quietly for a moment.

Laurie picked up her fork and scooped a token bit of chicken into her mouth. Her face was rigid, her body still wilted and round-shouldered.

“What did he say?” Jacob asked.

“Just eat your dinner, Jacob.”

I could not reach her across the table. All I could offer was a concerned face.

“You could star-sixty-nine him,” Jacob suggested.

“Let’s just enjoy our dinner,” Laurie said. She took another nibble and chewed busily, then sat absolutely stone still.

“Laurie?”

She cleared her throat, mumbled “Excuse me,” and left the table.

There were still 151 days to go.





14 | Questioning


Jonathan: “Tell me about the knife.”

Jacob: “What do you want to know?”

“Well, the DA is going to say you bought it because you were being bullied. They’ll say that’s your motive. But you told your folks you bought it for no reason.”

“I didn’t say I bought it for no reason. I said I bought it because I wanted it.”

“Yes, but why did you want it?”

“Why did you want that necktie? Do you have a reason for everything you buy?”

“Jacob, a knife is a little different from a necktie, wouldn’t you say?”

“No. It’s all just stuff. That’s how our society works: you spend all your time making money so you can trade it for stuff, then—”

“Now it’s gone?”

“—then you go out and make more money so you can buy more stuff—”

“Jacob, the knife is gone?”

“Yeah. My dad took it.”

“You have the knife, Andy?”

“No. It’s gone.”

“You got rid of it?”

“It was dangerous. It wasn’t an appropriate knife for a kid to have. It wasn’t a toy. Any father would have—”

“Andy, I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just trying to confirm what happened.”

“Sorry. Yes, I got rid of it.”

Jonathan nodded but offered no comment. We were sitting at the round oak table in his office, the only room he had that was large enough to accommodate our entire family. The young associate, Ellen, was there too, assiduously scribbling notes. It occurred to me that she was there to witness the conversation in order to protect Jonathan, not to help us. He was creating a record just in case he ever fell out with his clients and there was a dispute about what he had been told.

Laurie watched with her hands folded in her lap. Her composure, once so natural, now required more effort to maintain. She spoke a little less, involved herself a little less in these legal strategy sessions. It was as if she was conserving her energy for the moment-to-moment effort of just holding herself together.

Jacob was sulking. He picked at the surface of the table with a fingernail, his goofy teenage pride wounded by Jonathan’s lack of enthusiasm for his insights into the rudiments of capitalism.

Jonathan petted his short beard, absorbed in his own thoughts. “But you had the knife the day Ben Rifkin was killed?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have it with you in the park that morning?”

“No.”

“Did you have it with you when you left?”

“No.”

“Where was it?”

“In a drawer in my room, same as always.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

“So when you left for school, was there anything unusual about the morning?”

“When I left? No.”

“Did you follow your usual route to school? Through the park?”

“Yes.”

“So the spot where Ben was killed was right on the path you normally follow through the park?”

“I guess so. I never really thought about it that way.”

“Before you found the body, did you see or hear anything as you walked through the park?”

“No. I was just walking and then there he was, just lying there.”

“Describe him. How was he lying when you first saw him?”

“He was just lying there. He was, like, lying on his stomach on this, like, little slope, in a bunch of leaves.”

“Dry leaves or wet leaves?”

“Wet.”

“You’re sure?”

“I think.”

“You think? Or you’re guessing?”

“I don’t really remember that part too well.”

“So why did you answer the question?”

“I’m not really sure.”

“From now on, you answer absolutely honestly, okay? If the accurate answer is I don’t remember, then that’s what you say, all right?”