Lost in Time(12)

The room was quiet until Levy continued. “Fear, gentlemen. We’re going to give that courtroom a new fear. A greater fear. One that will light the world on fire. One that will apply pressure—from inside the courtroom and from outside, from every corner of the world. Mutually assured destruction. That’s what we’re talking about here.”

“Forgive me,” Tom said, “I’m not trying to throw cold water on this, but the evidence is still pretty bad.”

Levy stood, looming over the other three men. “Tom’s right. The evidence is bad: Dr. Thomas’s blood is on your hands, Sam. Actually on your hands. Adeline’s, too. They have the house on camera. You two were the only ones who entered the home before she died. You’re the only ones who could have committed the crime. I’m not going to lie to you, Sam, or give you false hope. Based on the evidence, you and your daughter will be convicted of this crime. What I’m proposing isn’t trying for an acquittal. At least, not in the first trial.”

“Then what’s the plan?” Elliott asked.

“We use the fear that an Absolom sentence could end the world to get a life imprisonment sentence. Maybe the DA will crack under the pressure and do a deal. Maybe we convince the judge at sentencing. Or perhaps we get the jury to convict of a lesser crime—one not eligible for Absolom.” Levy held his arms out. “And that’s when the real work begins, Sam.”

“Do-overs,” Tom said.

Levy drew a deep breath. “That’s right. Appeals. The world will be enraptured by Sam and Adeline’s first trial. But the sequel won’t get as much attention. And the one after that will get even less press time. Every time we appeal the case, the world will be less interested. There will be less pressure on future judges and juries. Like a ball of string, we’ll pull at the threads, and we’ll keep pulling—as long as we have to—until it all unravels and the world has virtually forgotten about Sam and his daughter. And then, one day, they’ll walk free. It’ll take years. Probably decades. But, one day, we’ll beat it.”

Sam tried to imagine what a trial like that would do to Adeline. What would years, maybe decades, in prison do to her? That only made him more sure about what he had to do.

“There’s not going to be a trial,” Sam said. “Or any appeals.”

Levy paused, studying Sam, then broke into a smile. “A man after my own heart. I like the way you think, Sam. If we can get the charges dismissed, we skip it all. But it’s a long shot. We’ll have to dig into how they collected the evidence. They’re very careful about that these days. They use robots mostly, so we can’t pick apart any biases the officers may have had.”

“Mr. Levy,” Sam said, “you’re paid to get the results the client desires, correct? Not necessarily to win.”

Levy nodded slowly. “That’s right. I work for you and your daughter, Sam. To get you the outcome you want. We take a holistic approach at the Levy Group. That includes PR and post-trial services. We can get you transferred to any prison you want—if it ends up that way.”

“What I want,” Sam said, “is to confess.”

Elliott’s head snapped around to stare at Sam.

Levy’s face was a mask of concentration.

“I’m going to tell the police that there was an altercation. During that incident, I killed Nora. Adeline tried to stop it—that’s why her prints are on the weapon. She’s innocent. I’ll take Absolom, and she goes free. That’s what I want. And I want to minimize the PR around it. I want it to be handled as quietly as possible.”

For a few seconds, no one said anything. And then Elliott exploded. “Sam, you’ve lost your mind!” He spun and spoke to Levy. “Our client is insane. We need to plead insanity. He had a nervous breakdown an hour ago.”

Sam focused on Levy. “Do I seem insane to you?”

“I’ll bite, Sam. Why do you want to confess?”

“I have my reasons.”

Levy studied him. “In my entire career, I’ve never asked a client this. But I’d like to know: did you do it, Sam?”

“I’m going to confess. With or without your help. Can you live with that as an answer?”

“I can live with that. In my work, ambiguity is the rule, not the exception.”

“How do we go about this?”

Elliott stood and gripped Sam’s shoulders. “Sam, what are you doing?”

Sam pushed Elliott away. “Stop, Elliott. I have to.”

“You can’t.”

Sam stared at his old friend. “I have to, okay? I have to.”





TEN


Adeline couldn’t stop thinking about Nora and her father and last night. She had replayed the scene in her mind a hundred times, but that only made her feel worse. She regretted what she had done. It was all her fault. If she hadn’t lost it—if she hadn’t lashed out, maybe Nora would still be alive; maybe she and her father would still be free—

The door to her suite opened, and two of her father’s friends—Elliott and Tom—strode in. Behind them was a man she didn’t know. The stranger introduced himself as Victor Levy, an attorney Adeline’s father had hired to represent them.

He set a recorder on the coffee table and asked what Adeline had said to the police.