This was all Hardy and Wu could have hoped for, and Huron had pulled it off perfectly. Wu inclined her head, thanked her, and said she had no further questions.

"Mr. Brandt?" Johnson intoned from the bench.

And Brandt was immediately on his feet, approaching the witness with a light in his eye and a spring in his step. Hardy thought this wasn't a good sign, but didn't see where he could go. He was about to find out, and it wasn't a long journey. "Ms. Huron, you've worked in law enforcement for nearly twenty years, isn't that true?"

"Yes it is."

"And you've had a great deal of experience with firearms and forensics, have you not?"

"Yes."

"Ballistics studies, matching samples of bullet slugs and so on?"

"Yes."

"I see. Let me ask you this, then. Prior to reading this story, did you know that guns made in Israel were fingerprinted ballistically before they were sold, and that this information was embedded with the registration number of the weapon, so that any bullet fired from that gun anywhere in the world could be matched to its owner?"

Huron smiled as though in appreciation of a bit of fascinating trivia. "No," she said, "to tell you the truth, I didn't know that. That's an interesting fact."

"Yes, it is," Brandt said, "and you, a sophisticated criminologist, didn't know it." He half-turned back to Wu and Hardy, came back to the judge, nodded genially. "I have no further questions."

The suddenness of it clearly surprised Wu, but Hardy thought it was a very effective jab, trumping Huron's own undeniable sophistication with an even better example of Andrew's. But he didn't want to risk causing damage to Wu's rhythm or confidence, so he just leaned back, crossed his arms, nodded as though he were enjoying himself.

Wu stood and called her next witness, this one someone she had known from college- Padraig Harrington, Ph.D., a teacher at San Francisco State University. But just as Bailiff Cottrell got to the back door and opened it to call the witness, Brandt stood again. "Your honor, sidebar?"

Judge Johnson adjusted his glasses, raised his voice to the back of the room, saying, "One minute, please, Dr. Harrington" and motioned counsel up to the bench. When they were all in front of him, Johnson said, "Yes, Mr. Brandt?"

"Your honor, before we begin with this witness, I'd like to ask Ms. Wu what it is that Dr. Harrington is a professor of?"

"I don't see the relevance…," Wu began.

Johnson cut her off. "I do. Answer the question."

"English Literature."

"English Literature?" Brandt raised his eyebrows, clearly a rehearsed gesture. "Your honor, with the court's permission, I'd like to ask Ms. Wu for the general import and relevance of Dr. Harrington's expected testimony."

"You'll see when I ask him," Wu retorted.

"Not good enough," Johnson said. "It's a legitimate question. Answer it." Johnson was being just nails on the bench and Hardy longed to raise some objection to protect Wu, but knew that anything he said now would only alienate the judge further, and hurt their client's chances. He'd have to stand and take it.

Wu swallowed, blinked, looked quickly to Hardy, then threw a glance at Brandt. "He'll be talking about the nature of fiction and the degrees of similarity between an author and a character that the author has created. In other words, is a person capable of making up things that he's incapable of actually doing?"

Brandt fairly dripped derision. "Your honor, is there some science here that I'm missing? The petitioner is willing to stipulate that fiction authors make things up. If that's the gist of Dr. Harrington's testimony…"

Wu interrupted. "He's going to address specific elements in Mr. Bartlett's story, your honor, as compared to elements in the actual crime."

"And this will demonstrate what, exactly?" the judge asked.

"That even the degree of sophistication exhibited by the character in the story, minimal though it is, as my last witness demonstrated…"

Brandt corrected her. "… tried to demonstrate."

"… as my last witness demonstrated," Wu repeated, "even that small degree of sophistication is less than that possessed by Mr. Bartlett."

"Or more," Brandt said.

Her stage whisper getting out of hand, Wu shot the question at Brandt. "What do you mean, more?"

He turned directly to her. "I'm willing to accept it's different. The author's either more sophisticated or less. There's no way to tell from what he wrote."

"Both of you, listen to me." Johnson was a few inches out of his chair, leaning over the front of his bench. "You'll both address your remarks to the court and the court only. I don't want anything personal marring these proceedings. As to the point at issue, I agree with Mr. Brandt. Ms. Wu, given petitioner's stipulation that fiction authors make things up, it's this court's ruling that we don't need to hear from this witness."

"Thank you, your honor." Brandt immediately bowed and turned back toward his seat.

Wu stood in shock. "But…"

Johnson snapped at her. "Put your offer on the record if you wish."

She returned to counsel table and then repeated for the court reporter what she had told the judge. When she finished, Johnson wrote something, then looked up. "Dr. Harrington," he said, raising his voice to be heard in the gallery, "you're dismissed. The court thanks you for your time."

Johnson had announced a twenty-minute morning recess before Wu would call her next witness. This one was testifying on Andrew's potential for rehabilitation. Most of the rest of the courtroom had emptied out. Bailiff Nelson- Brandt's "pussycat"- had wheeled Andrew off to go to the bathroom, while Bailiff Cottrell and the court recorder had disappeared through the door that led back toward the judge's chambers. Brandt was just suddenly gone, as were the Norths, probably out into the main hallway. This left Wu and Hardy, at the defense table, alone.

"His honor seems a little bit biased," Hardy said.

"Yeah, like Bill Gates is a little bit rich."

Hardy managed a small smile. "I wouldn't worry too much about it, though. It's going to come down to five, anyway."

"If that's the case, we're in trouble."

Hardy shrugged. "Maybe not." He brought her up to date on the two major elements he'd unearthed since he'd last talked to her with the Norths last night at the hospital- Michael Mooney's gayness and Anna Salarco's failure to identify Andrew as the person who'd run from Mooney's place just before Juan had discovered the bodies.

Wu's eyes lit up. "Will she testify?"

"Maybe. She's got some issues with her husband." He explained the INS problem they faced. "So it's not a slam dunk, but she called me on her own, which is a positive sign. The husband's a good guy, but he's afraid of getting deported. I can't say I blame him."

"Can we do something to help them?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Turn them on to some good immigration attorneys? Something?"

Hardy shook his head. "Maybe, but not until she testifies. I don't want to get into the whole question of whether we're suborning or buying her testimony by offering her some kind of immunity. In fact, I was going to attack her husband's ID of Andrew on pretty much those grounds myself, except say it was the police promising to help him if he gave ' em Andrew. So I wouldn't feel right about it. Afterwards, if she comes through, different story."

"But if she'll say it actually wasn't him…"

"I know. But it's more than that. Her husband's on the record saying it was. He'll have to admit he was wrong, and as of yesterday, that wasn't happening. He'll look like a fool and, maybe worse, he'll look like he can't control his woman. And as long as they've got his ID, they've got a case."

They both settled into their thoughts. Finally, Wu asked, "What about the gay thing?"