Fine, I felt a flush of pride. Being singularly driven had always been my defining characteristic. I certainly wasn’t the smartest student at Stuyvesant High School or undergrad at Cornell or law student at Penn. But no one was more focused. My parents had taught me the virtue of raw determination. My dad especially, it was true. And our diligence had served us similarly: it was the rope we used to pull ourselves up—and also to hang ourselves by.
I still wasn’t taking Zach’s case.
“I appreciate the compliment, Zach. I do. But you needsomeone with homicide experience and the right connections at the Brooklyn DA’s office. I don’t have either.” True, all of it. “But I can get someone amazing for you. They can be down to see you first thing in the morning, before your arraignment.”
“Too late,” Zach said. “I was already arraigned. They denied bail.”
“Oh,” I said. “That’s, um, surprising on an assault charge.”
“Not if they think I killed Amanda,” Zach said. “That’s got to be where this is headed, right?”
“Sounds plausible,” I agreed.
“Obviously, I should have called you before the arraignment. But I was so … in shock after everything happened, I guess. They gave me a public defender,” he said. “He was a nice enough guy, seemed reasonably competent. Earnest, definitely. But if I’m completely honest, I was kind of checked out during the actual proceeding. Like if I pretended the whole thing wasn’t happening, it wouldn’t be. That makes me sound like a moron, I know.”
And now was the moment I could have pressed for details—when was he arrested exactly? What was the precise sequence of events that night? All the questions Zach’s lawyer would ask. Except I wasn’t his lawyer, and the last thing I wanted was to be drawn deeper in.
“Checking out is a totally human response,” I offered instead. And in my experience, being accused of a crime did do something to even the most rational people. And being falsely accused? That was something else entirely.
“I need to get out of this place, Lizzie.” Zach sounded scared. “Like, immediately.”
“Don’t worry. No matter what the prosecution’s strategy, they can’t keep you in Rikers on an assault charge, not under these circumstances. We’ll get you the right lawyer, and they’ll appeal the denial of bail.”
“Lizzie,” Zach pleaded. “Youare the right lawyer.”
I was not. I was the wrong kind of lawyer, without the right connections. It also wasn’t an accident that I’d never worked a homicide case, and I planned to keep it that way. But even takingthatwhole issue aside, my life was already out of control: the last thing I needed was to get mixed up in some old friend’s shitshow. And, if nothing else, Zach’s situation sounded like exactly that.
“Zach, I’m sorry, but I—”
“Lizzie, please,” he whispered, sounding frantic now. “I’ll be honest, I am fucking terrified. Could you maybe come down and see me at least? We could talk about it?”
Damn it.I was not representing Zach, no matter what. But his wife was dead, and we were old friends. Maybe I could go see him. It might even be easier for Zach to accept why I couldn’t be his lawyer if I told him face-to-face.
“Okay,” I said finally.
“Great,” Zach said, sounding way too relieved. “Tonight? Visiting hours are until nine p.m.”
I checked the clock: 7:24 p.m. I’d have to move fast. I looked again at the draft letter on my computer screen. Then I thought of Sam, waiting at home for me. Now I wouldn’t be at the office late like I said I’d be. Maybe that was reason enough to go see Zach at Rikers.
“I’m on my way,” I said.
“Thank you, Lizzie,” Zach said. “Thank you.”
Grand Jury Testimony
LUCY DELGADO,
called as a witness the 6th of July and was examined and testified as follows:
EXAMINATION
BY MS. WALLACE:
Q: Ms. Delgado, thank you for being willing to testify.
A: I was subpoenaed.
Q: And thank you for complying with that subpoena. Were you at a party at 724 First Street on July 2nd of this year?
