• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 693 0

many people, even Judge Peterson here, who calls me Mr. Rafferty.” I had thought at first that Rafferty was trying to put the boy at ease, out of decency. He had told me that the judge would not throw out the case, that the burden of proof in a preliminary hearing is low. I had known from the start, seeing the cumbersome machinery of the court, the gears creaking and turning slowly, that even if Robbie fell apart, it was going to take a lot of time and money to wipe Alice’s slate clean. I didn’t understand until later that Rafferty’s every calculated gesture and word was designed to make Robbie disrespectful and sour.

“Say, Your Honor,” Rafferty said, “may I advance to the witness box?” The judge nodded his head. Rafferty carried a wooden chair from his desk and went right close to Robbie. He hiked one foot on the seat of the chair and then leaned his elbow on his knee. “Let me explain something to you, pal, before we begin.” Pal. He’d pounced on the word, said it sarcastically. He passed his hand lightly over the top of his head. Alice said that his well-greased, wavy hair always looked as if it had come out of a mold. “When I ask you a question, if you know the answer, you can tell me Yes. If you don’t know, you may tell me No, or I don’t know, or I forget. As Mrs. Dirks said, the important thing is to tell the truth. I want you to understand that it’s fine to tell me that you don’t remember, if in fact you don’t remember. All right?”

Robbie was staring down and to his right, about as far from Rafferty as he could look. He made no indication that he’d heard Rafferty.

“Who was the first person you told about Mrs. Goodwin?”

“My mom.”

“Your mom. You knew she would understand because she does that sort of thing you described with her boyfriends, right?”

Susan Dirks of course blasted up from her seat. “That is hearsay, Your Honor, it is irrelevant and it is beyond the scope of direct.”

“Question withdrawn,” Rafferty said calmly.

Mrs. Mackessy had tightened her hold around her boy. She was trying, without much success, to bury her face in his short hair.

“Did your mom hug you when you told her?”

Robbie hesitated. He was still. “Yeah,” he said finally.

“Would you say she gives you a hug once a day?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Susan Dirks said, with marked restraint. “This line of questioning has no bearing on—”

“Sustained,” the judge muttered.

“Sometimes they can’t stand my questions,” Rafferty explained to Robbie, “and then I get into trouble. You ever get into trouble?”

“Sort of,” Robbie said.

“Sort of. So you told your mom and then she called the police and they got you an appointment with Miss Flint. I’d like you to try to remember that first time you saw Miss Flint. Think for a minute, what it was like that day you visited her at the office.”

Mrs. Mackessy shifted her weight and Robbie went up and down with her, as if he was on a mechanical horse.

“Did you tell Miss Flint about Mrs. Goodwin right away?”

“She has games and stuff.”

“Did you play with her for a while?”

“Yeah.”

“Did she ask you about Mrs. Goodwin?”

He didn’t answer.

“Did you tell her about the things that you thought happened at school?”

He shrugged.

“This woman,” Rafferty said, pointing his pen at the court reporter, “is taking down everything we say. So you have to give me an answer.”

Robbie didn’t blink or make the slightest movement.

“Who tells you that Mrs. Goodwin is bad?”

He remained motionless. His eyes were cast down. He was pale and his face didn’t seem to have any contour.

“I know what happened took place a while ago,” Rafferty said, “so if you don’t remember that’s fine. Did Miss Flint tell you Mrs. Goodwin was a bad person, Robbie?”

“No.”

“Did Susan Dirks tell you to say Mrs. Goodwin was bad?”

“She said to tell the truth.”

“Who told you that Mrs. Goodwin did those things?”

“Miss Flint.”

“Miss Flint told you that—”

“I showed her—”

“Did Miss Flint show you first?”

Robbie looked up at Rafferty. “I showed her,” he said, scoffing, as if the question insulted his intelligence.

“Exactly what did Miss Flint ask you