D A Novel (George Right) - By George Right Page 0,97

he withdrew his eyes.

"You can tell me only," I pressured. "As an attorney, I cannot reveal what you say."

He continued his silence and when I had already decided that he would say nothing, he suddenly muttered:

"You won't understand. Or will think that I am crazy."

"A psychiatric examination ruled you completely sane," I reminded.

"Well, of course."

"But, as far as we're concerned, it may be our only defense. You see, I've studied your biography. It was completely ordinary until three years ago when you had a car accident resulting in craniocereberal trauma and clinical death. You stayed in this condition for nearly eleven minutes. It is considered that irreversible brain damage occurs after six minutes. But it is, of course, an average. Specific features of a certain organism may... Anyway, doctors pulled you out from the next world. Then–several months of rehabilitation. Tests, tomograms, all that stuff. Eventually you completely recovered, healthy both physically and mentally. And a week later you started to kill."

"Well, there you are. Those doctors ruled me sane, too."

"Doctors can be mistaken. No, I don't want to say that you are crazy, Mr. Jackson. But it is more important for us not whether you are insane or not, but what the judge will think about it, do you understand me? Such a major head injury usually doesn't pass without consequences, and we have grounds to demand a new psychiatric examination. And there... I'm not saying that you should feign illness. Just, possibly, be more frank than before with the doctors, tell them more about your secret fears and fantasies, and..."

"What for?" he sneered. "To avoid the electric chair?"

"If you wish, yes," I replied with some note of irritation. That's bad, nonprofessional, I should watch myself better...

"And if I do not wish?"

"You mean you want to be executed?"

"I do."

"So, you regret your actions? Does your conscience bother you?"

"I did what I had a duty to do. And if I regret anything, it's that I didn't have time to do more."

Well, it looks like psychiatrists really missed the obvious. The duty, the mission, "voices in my head ordered me..." There are countless instances in criminal cases where a murderer feigned madness to escape punishment. But here, seemingly, the madman feigns (and successfully!) mental health in order to be executed. I haven't heard about such precedents before. How did he manage to deceive doctors, I wonder? Probably because forensic psychiatrists got too accustomed to dealing with the opposite situation...

And if all this is true, it not only gives me a chance to win a hopeless case, but also converts me from a person obliged to protect a bloody bastard into the savior of a sick man who, of course, cannot be blamed for becoming ill.

"Could you please explain what your duty consisted of, Mr. Jackson? And who imposed it on you?"

But he preferred to close up again, like a mollusk on a seabed to which a hand was stretched.

"What are all these conversations for? I've told you already, I don't need your help. If the law requires you to fulfill any formalities for my protection, do it, but without me."

"Yes, of course," I pretended that I turned off my laptop and was going to leave."That only reduces my workload and I'll do as you say if you insist. Just, you know, I had a thought–not as a lawyer but as a human being–that you will be executed... quite a nasty procedure, by the way. It is officially considered that death by an electric chair is immediate, but it is not always so. It sometimes happens that they have to turn the current on a second and even a third time... skin bursts and smokes, eyes literally jump out of the sockets, severe spasms break bones..."

"I know all this. If you want to frighten me..."

"No, no. I only want you to realize clearly what awaits you. But OK, maybe all this doesn't disturb you. However... you still know something very important, don't you? And your secret will die with you. Isn't that deplorable?"

"Tell me also that if I explain everything to you, you will fulfill my duty," he sneered.

"Certainly not. I won't tell you that."

"And you are right, as I wouldn't believe you. However... the secret... everyone should indeed know this secret. But it's useless even to try to explain. Nobody will believe me. Not even because they can't, but because they won't want to believe."

"Well... but can't you try? At least tell me only. Perhaps, I won't believe, either, but in