"Wherever you'd like," Randolph said. "But we must be expeditious; I have a lot of preparation yet to do tonight."

They ended up sitting around the table where they'd been before Randolph 's arrival.

"Alexis has told me about your suggestion of doing an autopsy on the deceased," Randolph said. "Perhaps you can tell me why this might be important at this eleventh hour."

To Jack's ear, he spoke with the true melodiousness that Jack associated with elite New England schools, and it suddenly occurred to him that Randolph was the archetype to which Jordan aspired. The question of why Jordan wanted to do so was another matter, since Jack found Randolph a passionless man, a prisoner of his restrained formality.

Jack ran down his short list in favor of an autopsy sans any reference to conspiracy or individually motivated foul-play theories. Then he gave his patented spiel about the role of a medical examiner's talking for the dead. "In short," Jack said as a kind of summation, "I believe an autopsy would afford Patience Stanhope her last day in court. My hope is to find enough pathology to clear Craig or, worst case, provide an argument for contributory negligence, since there is documentation the deceased refused a recommended cardiac workup."

Jack looked across at Randolph 's arctic-blue eyes for some response. There was none, nor was there from his mouth, which was a small, almost lipless horizontal slash halfway between his nose and the point of his chin. "Any questions?" Jack asked, hoping to generate a response.

"I don't believe so," Randolph said at length. "You've stated your case succinctly and well. It is an intriguing possibility, which I had not thought of since the clinical aspects of the case are so clear. My biggest concern involves the admissibility of whatever you might find. If something were to be found truly relevant and exculpatory, I would have to petition the court for a continuance to allow for proper discovery. In other words, it could be up to the judge."

"Couldn't I be called as a surprise rebuttal witness?"

"Only to refute previous testimony not to offer new testimony."

"I would be refuting the testimony of the plaintiff's experts claiming malpractice."

"It's stretching the rule, but I see your point. It would be up to the judge at any case, and he'd be ruling over strenuous objections from the plaintiff's attorney. It would be an uphill struggle and would afford the plaintiff foundation for appeal if it were granted.

"A final thought that adds to the difficulties of presenting such new evidence is my experience with Judge Davidson. He is known to like to move things along and is already irritated at the slow pace of this trial. There's no doubt he wants to bring it to a close. He would not look kindly on new evidence brought in at the very last minute."

Jack shrugged and raised his eyebrows questioningly. "So you are against it?"

"Not necessarily. This is a unique case with unique challenges, and we would be foolish not to do everything we possibly can for a positive outcome. New exculpatory evidence could be used as the basis to argue for a new trial through appeal. On the other hand, I believe the chances of finding something exculpatory are slim indeed. With that said, I'd come out sixty-forty in favor of doing it. So there you have it."

Randolph stood, as did the others. "Thank you for inviting me over and briefing me," he said, shaking hands all around. "See you all in court."

As Alexis accompanied Randolph to the door, Jack and Craig sat back down. "He fooled me," Jack said. "Just when I thought he was telling us he was against my doing the autopsy, he tells me he's for it."

"I had the same reaction," Craig said.

"One thing this little meeting made me realize is that I don't think you should change attorneys," Jack said. " Randolph might be priggish, but he strikes me as keenly intelligent, and under that gentleman veneer, he's a competitor. He definitely wants to win."

"Thanks for your opinion," Craig said. "I wish I unquestioningly shared it."

Alexis returned. She acted mildly irritated. "Why didn't you tell him about your run-in with Tony Fasano and the threat he gave you?"

"I didn't want to confuse the issue," Jack said. "Same reason I didn't bring up my wild theories of foul play or the surprising biography of Jordan Stanhope, aka Stanislaw Jaruzelski."

"I think that threat issue is more important," Alexis said. "Doesn't that bother you, being threatened like that?"

"Not really. Tony Fasano's worried about his investment, since he's surely taken the case on contingency. With that said, he strikes me as someone who blows a lot of hot air."

"I don't know," Alexis said. "It concerns me."

"Well, folks!" Jack said. "It's time to fish or cut bait. Am I going to try to do this autopsy or not? One thing I haven't mentioned. From my experience, juries use a commonsense gut reaction in their decision-making, but they like facts. Autopsy results are facts that they can grasp in contrast to testimony that is ephemeral and open to interpretation. Try to keep that in mind."

"If you can honestly tell me you are not concerned about Tony Fasano's threat, then I'll vote for the autopsy."

"And you, Craig?" Jack asked. "You're the principal here. Your vote can trump the rest of us."

"My feelings haven't changed," Craig said. "I think there's more chance finding stuff we don't want to know than things we do. But I'm not going to vote against the two of you and Randolph." He stood up. "Now I'm going to go up and put myself in the warm and fuzzy hand of a strong hypnotic. With the rest of the plaintiff experts, Jordan Stanhope, and possibly Leona Rattner slated to testify, it's going to be a taxing day tomorrow."

For a few minutes after Craig had disappeared upstairs, Jack and Alexis sat at the table, lost in their own thoughts. Jack was the first to speak after reaching out and picking up the scotch bottle. "Mixing this hard stuff and a strong hypnotic is not a good idea."

"I can't argue with that."

"Have you been at all worried about Craig injuring himself?"

"You mean overdosing?"

"Yes, either intentionally or otherwise." Jack could remember his own struggles with self-destructive thoughts during his years of fighting depression.

"Of course I've thought about it, but that's one aspect of narcissism in his favor. The devotees generally don't hurt themselves. Also, his depression has been far from incapacitating, and he has been cycling regularly through periods of normalcy – like tonight, for instance. He probably wouldn't admit it, but I think you have raised his spirits by being here. It means you care, and he respects you."

"That's nice. But what's he been taking for sleep? Do you know?"

"Just the usual. I've kept close tabs. I'm embarrassed to say, I've even been counting the pills behind his back."

"You shouldn't be embarrassed. That's being prudent."

"Whatever," Alexis said. She stood up. "I think I'll head upstairs, check on the girls, and turn in myself. I hate to abandon you, but if Leona Rattner testifies tomorrow, it's going to be particularly taxing for me, too."

"No problem," Jack said. He got to his feet as well. "I'm tired myself, although I want to read over some of the depositions again. I keep thinking I might be missing something that would be key to keep in mind if and when I do the autopsy."

"I certainly don't envy you working on someone who's been buried for almost a year. How do you do this kind of work day in, day out? Isn't it repulsive?"

"I know it sounds unpleasant, maybe even ghoulish, but it's actually fascinating. I learn something every day, and I don't have any problem patients."

"Don't remind me about problem patients," Alexis said. "Talk about self-inflicted wounds; that's a prime example!"