She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to think about Jason Brandt, either. Or Andrew Bartlett.
Wu shrugged out of her jacket, put it across her lap, straightened her back and turned to survey the groups of men who were drinking and laughing all around her. She caught one of the guys- good-looking in a grungy way, long blond hair, couple of earrings- checking the assets she so artfully displayed.
He was very much interested.
She smiled, slipped off the stool, got her drink in one hand and her jacket in the other, and moved in to cut him out.
10
The wind blew itself out overnight, but it was still unseasonably cold. A high, clear sky, bright sun. A rare city frost bloomed on every patch of green- admittedly not many of them- that Wu passed as she drove up Market Street.
Her hands shook and her eyes burned, but she was still thankful about the timing of the hearing this morning. The ten o'clock call meant she didn't have to go by the office and check in before driving to the YGC, and this had allowed her to grab an extra hour or two of sleep, badly needed after all the cocktails that had gone with last night's adventure. She hadn't made it back to her apartment until sometime after 3:00 A.M. She hadn't fallen asleep until nearly dawn, and was jarred awake by the alarm two hours later- disoriented, depleted, wrung out.
Still, by the time she entered the holding cell behind Arvid Johnson's courtroom, the mixed jolt from the Dexedrine and the espresso had kicked in. Handcuffed, Andrew sat on a cement bench built against the wall. He seemed subdued and nervous, shrugging a greeting of sorts, then going back to studying the pattern in the floor between his feet.
Wu put on a brave face, sat up close next to him. He smelled of disinfectant and soap. "Are you holding up all right? Did you get some sleep? How do you feel now? Are you still comfortable with our decision?" To each question, she got a shrug, a nod.
She tried a few more conversational gambits, telling him that the judge was going to want to hear him admit the petition himelf. All he had to do was follow her lead and it would all be over before he knew it. He nodded some more, then at last shut her up with a curt "I know what I've got to do."
She had to take that as an assurance. He was going to be okay.
Hal and Linda North were at their place in the first row, holding hands. Wu nodded to them, got a response from Hal, nothing from Linda but a blank stare. On the opposite side of the room, Jason Brandt directed his complete attention to the contents of some binders that were open in front of him. He avoided any eye contact with Wu. The two "rays of sunshine" had taken their respective positions again, Nelson by the back door to the holding cell, Cottrell in the otherwise-empty jury box. The court reporter and probation officer chatted amiably, and then suddenly the door to Arvid Johnson's chambers opened and the judge, in his robes, was on the bench.
Again, there was little sense of ritual. The probation officer simply got a nod from the judge, stood and began. "Good morning. This is Petition JW02-4555, the matter of Andrew Bartlett, who is present in the courtroom. Also present are the minor's natural mother, Linda Bartlett North, and his stepfather, Hal North. The minor's attorney is Ms. Amy Wu. Mr. Jason Brandt is the district attorney."
Judge Johnson thanked the officer and peered down over his glasses. "Ms. Wu, it's my understanding that your minor client Mr. Bartlett and the district attorney have agreed to a mutually acceptable disposition in this matter. Is that correct?"
Wu put a hand under her client's arm and the two of them rose. "Yes, your honor."
Johnson had done this innumerable times, and although Wu was tuned to a high pitch of anxiety, for him it obviously held all the excitement and drama of a quilting bee. "Mr. Bartlett, I want to ask you if you understand the decision that's been reached here on your behalf."
Andrew's voice was firm. "Yes, your honor, I talked about it with Ms. Wu last night." He turned halfway around, gave a small nod to his parents, then came back to face the judge.
Johnson nodded. "And you understand, Mr. Bartlett, that by admitting this petition filed against you by the State of California that you in fact claim full responsibility for the murders of Michael Mooney and Laura Wright? And that immediately following this proceeding, you will begin serving a term at the California Youth Authority, and will remain in custody until your twenty-fifth birthday?"
Andrew hesitated for an instant and Wu, jumping in, spoke up for him. "Yes, your honor. Mr. Bartlett understands."
But Johnson shook his head. "I'd like to hear it from him, Counselor. Mr. Bartlett?"
Andrew looked at Wu, then up to the judge. When he began the first time, he was almost inaudible, so he cleared his throat and started again. "I understand about the sentence. That's what we decided I had to agree to." Clearing his throat again, he went on. "But I'm not really comfortable…" He stopped, turned back to his parents again, came back around to Johnson. "But I can't say that I killed anybody, because I didn't."
Wu had a sense of the world spinning before her. She reached out, put her hand on her client's arm. "No, wait, Andrew!" Then, addressing the judge: "Your honor, if I may-"
But Johnson gaveled her to silence. He removed his glasses, squinted out over the podium. "No, Counselor, you may not, not for a minute anyway." He pointed a finger at Andrew. "Mr. Bartlett, I want to hear you say it yourself one more time. You're not admitting the petition?"
"Your honor." Wu spoke up in a panic. She couldn't let this happen. "I'd like to request a short recess."
Over on her right, she heard Brandt close his binder with a sharp snap.
"Request denied," Johnson said. "We just got here." Back at Andrew. "Mr. Bartlett? Repeat your plea."
This time Andrew's voice was much more forceful. "I'm just saying that I didn't kill anybody."
Behind her, Wu could hear the Norths reacting with a muted enthusiasm. Needing to undo what Andrew had done, she turned to him, whispered urgently. "You can't do this, Andrew. You're looking at life in prison. Don't you understand?"
The judge brought his gavel down again. "Ms. Wu, Mr. Brandt." He motioned with his head. "Chambers." And he was up in a swirl of black robes.
Johnson was waiting, facing them as they came through his door. No trace of anything avuncular softened his countenance as he reached around and closed the door behind them all. He came right to the point. "I don't tolerate being trifled with in my courtroom, Ms. Wu. What is this supposed to be, some kind of publicity stunt? Or delaying tactic?"
She tried to swallow, get a breath. "No, your honor."
"No to which?"
"Neither, your honor. I'm as surprised as you are."
Johnson looked to Brandt- who wisely stood at respectful attention- then came back to Wu. "This is unacceptable. What do you expect me to do now?"
"I'll go talk to him."
"And what good will that do?"
"I'll get him… He's just afraid. He was on board with this last night. He just couldn't go through with it, that's all."
The judge crossed his arms. "Stop wasting my time. As far as I'm concerned, he's denied the petition. This is really unacceptable, Counselor," he added. "Wholly unacceptable." Then, making no effort to hide his anger and disgust, he continued. "All right, let's get the show back on the road, go back in there and get this done as fast as we can."
Brandt spoke. "Your honor, if I may?"
Johnson turned his glare on him. "What?"
"I just wanted to say that Ms. Wu isn't as naive as she's pretending to be. She knew the conditions when she cut her deal. Andrew admits or he goes up as an adult."
"I think we all knew that," Johnson said. "So now we're going to have him tried as an adult. Ms. Wu should agree to that." His stare at her brooked no denial.