you consent to a joint trial? And, if you do, do you consent to having Mr. Verily Cooper represent you and Alvin Smith together?"
Quill objected. "Her interests are different from those of Alvin Smith!"
"No, they're not," said Purity. Her voice was surprisingly bold. "I consent to both, sir."
"Take your place at the defense table," said John.
They waited while she seated herself on the other side of Verily Cooper. John gave them a moment or two to whisper together. It was Quill who broke the silence. "Your Honor, I feel I must protest this irregular procedure."
"I'm sorry to hear that you feel that way. Let me know if the feeling becomes irresistible."
Quill frowned. "Very well, Your Honor, I do protest."
"Protest noted. Note also, however, that the court takes exception to the practice of deceiving a witness into testifying in someone else's trial, only to find his own testimony used against him in his own trial. I believe this is standard in witch trials."
"It is a practice justified by the difficulty of obtaining evidence of the doings of Satan."
"Yes," said John. "That well-known difficulty. So much depends upon it, don't you think? Next motion, Mr. Cooper."
"I move that because Mr. Quill has openly and publicly violated the laws against extracting testimony under torture, all evidence obtained from interrogation of either of my clients during and after that torture be barred from these proceedings."
Quill bounded to his feet. "No physical pain was inflicted on either defendant, Your Honor! Nor was there threat of such pain! The law was strictly adhered to!"
Quill was right, John knew, according to more than a century of precedents since the anti-torture law was adopted after the Salem debacle. The witchers all made sure they didn't cross the line.
"Your Honor," said Cooper, "I submit that the practice of running an accused person until a state of utter exhaustion is reached is, in fact, torture, and that it is well known to be such and falls under the same strictures as the forms of torture specifically banned by the statute."
"The statute says what it says!" retorted Quill.
"Watch your temper, Mr. Quill," said John. "Mr. Cooper, the language of the statute is clear."
Cooper then read off a string of citations from contract law dealing with attempts to skirt the letter of a contract by devising practices that were not specifically banned but that clearly defied the fair intent of the contract. "The principle is that when a practice is engaged in solely in order to circumvent a legal obligation, the practice is deemed to be a violation."
"That is contract law," said Quill. "It has no bearing."
"On the contrary," said Cooper. "The anti-torture law is a contract between the government and the people, guaranteeing the innocent that they will not be forced by torture into giving false testimony against themselves or others. It is the common practice of witchers to use methods of torture invented after the writing of the law and therefore not enumerated in it, but having all the same pernicious effects as the prohibited practice. In other words, the common practice of running a witness in a witch trial is designed to have precisely the same effect as the tortures specifically prohibited: to extract testimony of witchcraft regardless of whether such testimony is supported by other evidence."
Quill ranted for quite a while after that, and John let him have his say, while the court reporter scribbled furiously. Nothing that Quill was saying would make the slightest difference. John knew that in terms of truth and righteousness, Cooper's position was true and righteous. John also knew that the legal issue was nowhere near as clear. To drag precedents from contract law into witchery law, which was a branch of ecclesiastical law, would expose John to charges that he had wilfully sown confusion, for where would such a practice stop? All the legal traditions would be hopelessly commingled, and then who could possibly learn enough law to practice in any court? It would be an outrageously radical step. Not that John worried about being criticized or censured. He was old, and if people chose not to follow his precedent, so be it. No, the real question was whether it was right to risk damaging the entire system of law in order to effect a righteous outcome in witchery cases.
When Quill wound down, John hadn't yet made up his mind. "The court will take this motion under advisement and announce a decision at a later point, if it isn't mooted by one