4th of July

Chapter 91

YUKI APPROACHED THE thirteen-year-old killer, who looked even younger and more pitiable now that his face was red from weeping.

“Are you feeling a little better, Sam?” Yuki asked, putting her hands on her knees and stooping a little so that her eyes met his.

“Okay, I guess . . . considering,” said Sam.

“Glad to hear it,” said Yuki, standing, taking a few steps back. “I’ll try to keep my questions brief. Why were you in the Tenderloin District on May tenth?”

“I don’t know . . . ma’am. . . . Sara was driving.”

“Your car was parked outside the Balboa Hotel. Why was that?”

“We were buying a newspaper . . . I think. . . . We were going to go to the movies.”

“You think there’s a newsstand inside the Balboa?”

“I guess so.”

“Sam, you understand the difference between a lie and the truth?”

“Of course.”

“And you know that you promised to tell the truth?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. So, can you tell all of us why you and Sara were carrying guns that night?”

“They were . . . Dad’s guns,” the boy said. He paused for breath and maybe for thought as well. “I took a gun out of the glove compartment . . . because I thought those people . . . were going to kill us.”

“You didn’t know that the police were trying to pull you over?”

“I was scared. . . . I wasn’t driving, and . . . everything happened fast.”

“Sam, were you on crank that night?”

“Ma’am?”

“Methamphetamine. You know—ice, get-go, beanies.”

“I wasn’t on drugs.”

“I see. Do you remember the car accident?”

“Not really.”

“Do you remember seeing Lieutenant Boxer and Inspector Jacobi help you out of the car after it crashed?”

“No, because I had blood in my eyes. . . . My nose broke. . . . All of a sudden . . . I see guns, and the next thing I know . . . they shot us.”

“Do you remember shooting Inspector Jacobi?”

The kid’s eyes widened. Was he surprised by the question? Or was he simply remembering the moment?

“I thought he was going to hurt me,” Sam croaked out at last.

“So you do remember shooting him?”

“Wasn’t he going to arrest me?”

Yuki stood her ground as she waited for Sam’s lungs to fill. “Sam. Why did you shoot Inspector Jacobi?”

“No. I don’t remember . . . doing that.”

“Tell me: Are you under a psychiatrist’s care?”

“Yeah, I am. . . . Because I’m having a hard time. Because I’m paralyzed . . . and because that woman murdered my sister.”

“Okay, let me ask you about that. You say that Lieutenant Boxer murdered your sister. Didn’t you see your sister fire at Lieutenant Boxer first? Didn’t you see the lieutenant lying on the street?”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

“Sam, you remember that you’re under oath?”

“I’m telling the truth,” he said, and sobbed again.

“Okay. Have you ever been inside the Lorenzo Hotel?”

“Objection, Your Honor. Where is this going?”

“Ms. Castellano?”

“It’ll become apparent in a second, Your Honor. I just have one more question.”

“Go ahead, then.”

“Sam, isn’t it true that right now you’re the prime suspect in the investigation of multiple homicides?”

Sam turned his head a few degrees away from Yuki and bellowed in his soul-searing, mechanically aided voice, “Mr. Broyles.”

Sam’s voice tailed away as the air went out of him.

“Objection! No foundation, Your Honor,” Broyles shouted above the murmurs washing over the room and the slams of Judge Achacoso’s gavel.

“I want that question struck from the record,” Broyles shouted, “and I ask Your Honor to instruct the jury to disregard —”

Before the judge could rule, Sam’s eyes wheeled frantically.

“I take the amendment,” the kid said, getting a fresh infusion of air before speaking once more. “I take the Fifth Amendment on the grounds —”

And with that, a horrific shrieking alarm came from beneath the wheelchair. There were screams from the gallery and from the jury box as the readouts on the ventilator went down to zero.

Andrew Cabot leaped from his chair, shoving the attendant forward.

“Do something! Do something!”

There was a collective intake of breath as the tech knelt, fiddled with knobs, and reset the ventilator. At last, the alarm went silent.

A loud whoosh was heard as Sam sucked in his life-saving air.

Then the roar of the crowd’s relief filled the room.

“I’m done with this witness,” Yuki said, shouting over the rumble that flowed from front to back of the courtroom.

“Court is adjourned,” said Judge Achacoso, slamming her gavel down. “We’ll resume tomorrow at nine.”