Page 85 of The Right to Remain

It was the first lie told by every child on a witness stand. Austen’s “okay” was no more convincing than so many others Jack had heard over the years.

“Austen, you understand that it’s my job to ask you a few questions, right?”

“Yes, I do,” he said.

The fact that he didn’t just nod his head and mumble “uh-huh”—that he gave a clear answer in a voice loud enough to be heard—told Jack that the witness had been prepared as well as any child could be. Jack had expected a child who had experience performing in front of the public as a dancer to do better than most children in this situation, a hunch that was borne out by the remaining introductory questions.You understand that some of these questions might be difficult? That all anyone wants you to do is tell the truth? That no one is going to get mad at you for telling the truth?Austen handled one question after another with poise beyond his years, perhaps even better than Jack’s daughter, Righley, who was two years older, might have done.

Then the prosecutor adopted a more serious tone. “Austen, unfortunately, I have to take you back to the night your father passed away. Can you go there with me?”

He hesitated, but he didn’t crumble. “Okay.”

“Were you at your house that night?”

His feet didn’t quite touch the floor, and his legs were swinging. “Yes.”

“Did you see anyone in your house that night?”

“My mom.”

“Anyone else?”

Austen paused long enough for Jack to prepare himself for a critical revelation that his client had buried in silence.

“Yes,” said Austen.

“Is the person you saw in your house that night sitting in this courtroom now?”

Jack wanted to grab Elliott by the prison jumpsuit and scream, “How could you not tell me this?”

“Yes,” said Austen. His legs were swinging faster.

“Could you please point to that person?”

Austen didn’t quite look in Elliott’s direction, but he raised his hand and pointed with enough assurance to leave no doubt.

“Let the record reflect that the witness has pointed to the defendant, Elliott Stafford,” said Weller.

“The record shall so reflect,” said the judge.

Weller gave the witness a moment, then continued. “Just a couple more questions, and then we’re done, Austen. I want you to think carefully before you answer. Were your mom and Mr. Stafford in the house at the same time?”

He shook his head, then added an audible response. “No.”

“Was Mr. Stafford in your house before or after your mom got there?”

“Before.”

The prosecutor seemed more than pleased. Jack felt like he’d been punched in the chest.

“Thank you, Austen. You did a very good job. Your Honor, I have no further questions.”

Weller returned to her seat. The judge gazed in Jack’s direction, and his expression sent a clear message that the game was all but over, despite the words that followed.

“Mr. Swyteck, you may cross examine, but please be brief and mindful of my concerns about the delicate posture of this witness.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” said Jack.

Jack rose, but he didn’t immediately approach the witness. Towering over a child, especially one who’d never met him, was a terrible strategy. But Jack knew he couldn’t stay where he was, seated right beside Elliott, whom Austen couldn’t even look at when pointing. Jack moved his chairout from behind the defense table and placed it a comfortable distance away from Austen. Then he took a seat at eye level with the witness, as if the two of them were going to have a chat.