“Actually, that’s another reason we can conclude that Asperger’s played a role in what happened to Jess. People with Asperger’s have a greatly impaired theory of mind-they can’t put themselves into someone else’s position to imagine what the other person might be thinking or feeling. To the layperson, it’s a lack of empathy. So for example, if Jess were crying, Jacob wouldn’t try to comfort her. He might know that people with tears in their eyes are usually sad, but he’d be making a cognitive judgment, not an emotional one. For someone with Asperger’s, this lack of empathy is a neurobiological deficit, and it affects behavior. In Jacob’s case, it would have lessened his ability to perceive the impact of his own actions on Jess.”

“But still, Doctor,” I say, playing devil’s advocate, “there’s a big difference between not handing someone a hankie when she’s crying and killing her so that she can be a pawn in a crime scene setup.”

“Of course there is.” The psychiatrist turns to the jury. “And this is probably the hardest thing for the layperson to understand. We’re always looking for motive in a crime that’s as horrific as this one is. I’ve considered this from my discussions with Jacob and with Dr. Murano, and I think that the answer lies in the argument Jess and Jacob had the Sunday before her death.

“The calling card for Asperger’s is impaired social interaction. To that end, someone with Asperger’s has a very naϊve and limited understanding of relationships, which might lead him to seek contact in an inappropriate way. This leads to disappointment, and even anger, if a relationship doesn’t work out the way he’s anticipated.” She looks at Jacob. “I don’t know what was said between Jacob and Jess the afternoon of her death, but I believe Jacob had a crush on his tutor. Ironically, his rigid sense of right and wrong-which you’d think would deter criminal behavior-might actually have backfired here. If Jess rebuffed Jacob’s advances, he would have felt that she’d done something wrong to him, that he was the victim.”

“And then what?” I ask.

“He snapped. He lashed out without realizing what he was physically doing at the time he did it.”

“Nothing further,” I say, and I sit down. I glance at Jacob, who is glaring at me. Emma stares straight ahead. She seems determined to not acknowledge my existence today.

Helen Sharp stands up. “There are a lot of kids who’ve been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome. So are you telling us that the world’s full of ticking time bombs? That at any moment, if we look at one of those kids the wrong way, he might come after us with a carving knife?”

“No, in fact, it’s the opposite. People with Asperger’s aren’t prone to violence. Since they don’t have an active theory of mind, they aren’t motivated to hurt someone; in fact, they’re not thinking about that person’s feelings at all. If someone with Asperger’s does become violent, it’s during the single-minded pursuit of a special interest, during a state of panic, or during a moment of complete ignorance about appropriate social interaction.”

“Isn’t it true, Doctor, that most defendants who claim insanity do so because of a psychotic break from reality?”

“Yes.”

“But Asperger’s isn’t a psychotic disorder?” Helen says.

“No. It would fall more in line with personality disorders, which are characterized by perceptual and interpersonal distortions.”

“In legal terms, doesn’t the absence of psychotic episodes suggest that the person is personally-and criminally-responsible for his or her actions?”

The psychiatrist shifts. “Yes, but there might be a loophole for Asperger’s. We can’t scientifically prove that someone with Asperger’s has a very different experience of subjective reality than someone who doesn’t have Asperger’s, and yet the extreme sensitivity to light and sound and taste and touch and texture indicate that this is the case. If that could be measured, there would be strong parallels between Asperger’s and psychosis.”

There is a sharp jab in my side as Jacob elbows me. He passes me a blank piece of paper.

“If that were true,” Helen says, “wouldn’t this suggest that someone with Asperger’s has a hard time being aware of reality and his role in it?”

“Exactly. Which is why it might very well contribute to legal insanity, Ms. Sharp.”

“But didn’t you also say that Jacob’s fixation on forensics led him to use Jess Ogilvy’s death to create his own crime scene?”

“Yes.”

“And wouldn’t such premeditation and careful calculation suggest he knew very well what he was doing at the moment?”

Dr. Newcomb shrugs. “It’s a theory,” she says.

“You also mentioned a lack of empathy.” Helen approaches the witness stand. “You said it’s one of the features of Asperger’s syndrome?”

“That’s right.”

“Would you consider that an emotional measure or a cognitive one?”

“Emotional.”

“Is lack of empathy part of the test for legal insanity, Doctor?”

“No.”

“Isn’t it true that the determination for legal insanity is whether the defendant knew right from wrong at the time the act was committed?”

“Yes.”

“Is that an emotional measure or a cognitive one?”

“A cognitive one.”

“So lack of empathy simply means someone is cold, heartless, without remorse,” Helen says. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s unaware of the nature and consequence of his actions.”

“They often go hand in hand,” Dr. Newcomb says.

“Do they?” Helen asks. “A mafia hit man has no empathy when he offs his victims, but that doesn’t make him legally insane, just psychopathic.”

Jacob elbows me again, but I am already getting to my feet. “Objection,” I say. “Is there a question buried under Ms. Sharp’s grandstanding?”

“If I may,” Dr. Newcomb says, turning to the judge for his permission. “Ms. Sharp seems to be trying hard to draw a parallel between someone with Asperger’s and a psychopath. However, people with Asperger’s don’t demonstrate the superficial charm that psychopaths do, nor do they try to manipulate others. They don’t have enough interpersonal skills to do it well, frankly, and that usually makes them the prey for psychopaths, rather than the predators.”

“And yet,” Helen qualifies, “Jacob has a history of aggression, doesn’t he?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Did he or did he not have an argument with Jess two days before her death, one that was overheard by employees of Mama S’s Pizzeria?”

“Well, yes, but that wasn’t a physical assault-”

“Okay, what about the fact that he was given detention last year for trying to strangle a classmate?”

A flurry of blank notes land in front of me, and again, I sweep them aside. “Just hang on,” I say through my teeth to Jacob, and then I signal to the judge. “Objection-”

“I’ll rephrase. Did you know that Jacob was given detention for physically assaulting a girl in his grade?”

“Yes, I remember Dr. Murano mentioning that to me. Yet it seems the trigger was the same: an interpersonal relationship that didn’t quite match Jacob’s intentions. He felt humiliated, and he-”

“Snapped,” the prosecutor interrupts. “Right?”

“Right.”

“And that’s why Jess Ogilvy was killed.”

“In my opinion, yes.”

“Tell me this, Doctor,” Helen says. “Had Jacob still snapped when he was alphabetizing the CD collection in her residence, after her death?”

“Yes.”

“How about when he moved Jess’s body three hundred yards to a culvert behind the house?”

“Yes.”

“Had he still snapped when he sat her upright and carefully covered her with his quilt and set her hands in her lap?”

Dr. Newcomb jerks her chin the slightest bit.

“And had he still snapped days later when he went back to visit Jess’s body and phoned 911 so that the police would find her?”

“Well,” the psychiatrist says quietly. “I guess so.”