The Magician (26 page)

“Good,” said Cantor. “Now, let’s bring Japhet’s father in and go over the ground. He’s the key. The jury’ll identify with him.”

“You think so?”

“It’s the preparation that counts. I hope he’s a quick study. Let’s go.”

Mr. Japhet was appalled at the idea of rehearsing for his testimony. Cantor explained how usual it was. Mr. Japhet was surprised at his own naiveté. He had supposed that witnesses testify cold.

*

“How come you didn’t plead that kid guilty to a misdemeanor?” said Cantor to Thomassy when they were arranging their paper on the adjoining counsel tables before the next day’s session.

“You heard of Percy Foreman?”

“Sure.”

“He’s defended more than a hundred murder cases.”

“And?”

“Fewer than six percent ever spent a day in jail. Only one got executed.”

“I still think you should have had the Urek kid cop a plea.”

“They didn’t need me for that. They could have hired anybody.”

Cantor was nervous about Mr. Japhet’s appearance on the stand. During their earlier meeting, intended to prepare him, Cantor had tried to make it clear that as a prosecution witness, Mr. Japhet was on his side, the side of the law, et cetera, but the man seemed to have his mind elsewhere. When Cantor heard that Ed might refuse to testify, he decided not to press the father more and to proceed to trial without the benefit of a proper rehearsal. It might work to his advantage. An extemporaneous recital of the crime might be more effective. In any event, he would begin by putting Mr. Japhet’s testimony at the arraignment into the record of the trial.

Cantor was surprised when Judge Brumbacher refused. “Counselor,” he said, using the term at Cantor for the first time, “the point of having a witness is for the jury not only to hear the words but to judge, from the witness’s manner, the truth of what he is reporting. Previous testimony elsewhere can be referred to if inconsistencies show up. Do your work, please, for the benefit of the jury.”

Cantor, humiliated, turned to the witness.

“Mr. Japhet, will you tell us in your own words what happened on the evening of January twenty-first.”

Terence Japhet looked at his wife, sitting among the spectators. He wondered if he could buy a copy of the transcript so that Ed would have a permanent record of what transpired. Probably not.

“Yes,” he said. “I drove my son and his friend Lila Hurst to the dance. He refused to let me help him with the suitcases in which he carried his magic equipment.” He saw the impatience in Cantor’s face. “Yes, yes, I’m coming to that. He was giving a performance for the students. I picked him up afterward. He and I and Miss Hurst were on our way out of the building—I believe it was empty except for the janitor—it was snowing, and we saw four boys sitting in my car. The Urek boy attacked first Miss Hurst and then my son, knocking him to the ground, then falling on him, and choking him. I beat the attacker on his back, trying to get him to let go, and when I pulled his hair hard, he did. He smashed the two suitcases of equipment and then broke the windshield of my car with the tire chain.”

“And then what happened?”

“My son seemed to have great difficulty in breathing. I learned once that if there is difficulty in breathing, or bleeding that you can’t stop, you have to get to a hospital right away, so I drove as fast as I could, given the snowstorm and the broken windshield.”

“Did the defendant attack your son with his bare hands?”

“He had a chain.”

“Is that the same chain with which he later smashed the windshield of the car?”

“Yes.”

“Did he use that chain against your son?”

“Yes.”

“Was Miss Hurst hurt badly?”

“No. Just my son.”

“How do you explain this attack against your son?”

Mr. Japhet clenched his hands on the arms of the witness chair. “The United States is now in a state of war.”

Judge Brumbacher leaned forward.

“What I mean,” said Mr. Japhet, “is that there is open armed conflict between factions in this country, several kinds in many locations, blacks in open and armed revolt, police counter-attacking and even initiating battle, Weathermen, militant students dynamiting and destroying, National Guardsmen and police killing students black and white, and much less publicized, violence in the secondary schools, serious incidents in every part of the country requiring the occasional closing of schools, armed guards in the schools, the centers of cities a no-man’s-land—if this is not civil war, we had better change the definition in dictionaries.”

Josephine Japhet had never heard her husband talk this way.

The rumbling among the spectators was overwhelmed by Thomassy’s standing shout, “Objection! Objection!” and then when the judge turned to him, he said, “Your Honor, we are trying one sixteen-year-old individual, not a nation.”

“Mr. Cantor?” asked the judge.

Cantor couldn’t think of anything he might say which wouldn’t endanger his career. He shook his head.

“Well, now,” said Judge Brumbacher, “I’m not so sure that’s all irrelevant, though it is out of the ordinary.”

“Your Honor,” said Mr. Japhet.

“Yes?”

“May I clarify? I don’t want my remarks misunderstood.”

“Your Honor, I object!” said Thomassy.

“I’ve noted your objection and will consider it after the clarification. Proceed, Mr. Japhet.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so emotional. This whole affair has been terribly upsetting. It has a background. The Urek boy has been involved in an extortion racket in the school—”

“Objection!” said Thomassy, striding toward the bench.

“Please take your seat, Mr. Thomassy.”

“The defendant is not charged with extortion.”

“It can all be stricken, once we’ve heard it out.”

“But the jury—”

“I will instruct the jury, Mr. Thomassy. Continue, Mr. Japhet.”

“This country has been saddled with organized extortion for at least four decades, since Prohibition, and during this entire long period, nearly half a century, law enforcement has not been able to deal effectively with this organized extortion, and as a consequence, youngsters in school emulate the condoned rackets of their elders. My son, the worse for him, resisted this extortion by refusing to pay the monthly charge for leaving his locker alone. If he were an adult in business and did the same thing, he would have been attacked, as he was attacked in the school, and that is my explanation, my answer to the question that was asked of me.”

“Are you finished?”

“Yes.”

Thomassy was standing.

“Mr. Thomassy,” said the judge, “if this case is ever appealed to a higher court, it is possible that my ruling will jeopardize the results of this trial, but I consider the question relevant and material. I think the jury can consider the pertinence of the reply, which I am letting stand. Please continue, Mr. Cantor.”

“I have no other questions.”

As he approached the witness stand, Thomassy was damn glad he had done his homework.

“Mr. Japhet, you took an oath to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth in this courtroom. Is it your habit to tell the truth under oath?”

“I’ve never had to be a witness before.”

“Please answer the question. Is it your habit to tell the truth if you take an oath?”

“I tell the truth whether or not I am under oath.”

“Will you please tell the court the names of the foreign countries you have visited?”

Cantor was quick to object. “Your Honor, this line of questioning is irrelevant.”

“Overruled.”

“But your Honor—”

“Let us see where it leads. You may proceed, Mr. Thomassy.”

“The question was, please name the foreign countries you have visited.”

“I’ve visited England and France several times, Germany once, Italy briefly.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever visited any other foreign nation at any time?”

“No.”

“Now, Mr. Japhet, have you ever at any time visited the Soviet Union?”

“I have not visited the Soviet Union.”

“Have you ever visited any part of China?”

Cantor couldn’t take it. “Your Honor, is defense counsel trying to imply that the witness is a Red spy or something?”

“Your Honor, will you please instruct the district attorney to sit down?”

Judge Brumbacher nodded for Mr. Cantor to do just that.

“Have you ever visited any part of China?”

“No.”

“Have you ever visited Ireland?”

Mr. Japhet moistened his lips.

“Please remember that you are under oath.”

“I have never visited Ireland.”

Thomassy removed Cargill’s Xerox from his briefcase on the counsel table.

“Mr. Japhet, did you ever seek employment with any branch of the federal government?”

“I may have.”

“As a matter of fact, you once applied to the Department of State in Washington for employment, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“In order to apply for that position, you had to make a written application under oath, sworn to before a notary public, isn’t that correct?”

“I don’t know.”

Thomassy slowly unfolded Cargill’s Xerox and put it before Mr. Japhet.

“Would you please tell the court what this document is?”

“It’s an application for employment in the Department of State.”

“An application, or your application?”

“It’s a facsimile copy of an application I made some years ago.”

“Would you please read question number twenty-three aloud?”

Thomassy was wondering when Cantor would object, just as Cantor got to his feet. “Your Honor, is defense counsel going to put that paper into evidence?”

“Certainly.”

“Have it marked,” said the judge.

“I want to question the propriety of the evidence, your Honor. If it’s a confidential application for employment in a government agency—”

‘“May I see that?” said the judge, taking the document from the court reporter.

“I believe,” said Thomassy, “your Honor will find no classified markings on the application. Since the witness has already acknowledged the application to be his, may we continue?”

Judge Brumbacher nodded. “I don’t want to hold things up. Let’s proceed.”

Cantor went back to his seat, angry. Thomassy turned his attention to Mr. Japhet again. “I said, would you read question number twenty-three on the facsimile.”

“What foreign countries have you visited?”

“And the answer?”

“England, France, Germany, Italy, Ireland.”

“Is that your signature at the bottom of the page?”

“Yes.”

“And was it sworn to before a notary public under oath?”

“Yes.”

“And were you in fact granted employment in the Department of State?”

“It was to be a special assignment during my sabbatical year, not permanent employment.”

“Please answer the question, Mr. Japhet. Were you denied employment in the Department of State, temporary or not?”

Mr. Japhet averted his eyes. “Yes.”

“Was it because you lied in your application?”

“I was never told.”

“You told this court under oath you had never been to Ireland. You told the State Department under oath that you had. On which occasion did you lie under oath?”

“The family is part Irish, I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland, and so I put it down, I don’t know why. It was a silly mistake. It wasn’t a serious matter.”

“It was serious enough for the State Department to deny you employment, wasn’t it?”

Terence looked at Josephine. He had told her that he had withdrawn his application, that he changed his mind. It was all so foolish. He felt his eyes filling and prayed to control it.

“Mr. Japhet, you are a teacher of children by profession?”

“Yes.”

“Would you condone cheating on an examination?”

“No.”

“Do you therefore apply a double standard, one for yourself and one for your pupils?”

Judge Brumbacher did not want to see a grown man cry. “You do not have to answer that question, Mr. Japhet,” he said.

“All right,” said Thomassy. “Mr. Japhet, on direct examination you alluded to an extortion racket in the school. Have you ever seen the defendant or anyone else extort money from a student in school?”

“No.”

“You heard about it?”

“Yes.”

“That is called hearsay, Mr. Japhet.”

“Most of human knowledge is hearsay, Mr. Thomassy!”

“Your Honor, we’ve had enough philosophizing. I move that this last remark and all previous comments by the witness with regard to extortion and war be stricken from the record.”