“Can you describe what you did outside and inside the restaurant at nine-thirty a.m.?”
“As I came down the outer staircase, from the apartment, I saw the family Honda in the parking lot. I expected my father to be inside the restaurant. I let myself inside through the back door. I called for him. I checked the kitchen and the office. I checked in the bathroom. Then I went downstairs, into the freezer room, and turned on the light.”
A photographic slide is projected onto the screen. There is the image—a sturdy, older Asian male corpse, thick trunk and limbs sculpted in shades of ocher and gray, greenish blue from cold, limbs thick and still, the head ornamented by a porcupine coat of thick salt-and-pepper hair. James can’t look away. There it is again. The eyes open, the staring of sudden captivation. James has been prepared for this, but the image takes him by surprise, as if he’s never seen it.
“People’s Exhibit Number Ten. Could you describe this photograph?”
“It’s my father’s body the way I found him in the freezer.”
“Just a few more questions, Mr. Chao, and I’ll be finished. What did you do after you found your father’s body?”
“I called Dagou on the restaurant phone.”
“Did he answer?”
“No.”
“What did you do after that?”
“I called the police.”
“No further questions, Your Honor.”
Strycker’s questioning is over. James hates Strycker, has hated dealing with him, dreaded the public confrontation. The worst is over now. It’s only Jerry. But Jerry’s face is solemn.
Was James present on December 23 at approximately three p.m. when Cecilia Chang called the Fine Chao Restaurant? To whom did Cecilia speak? Was William Chao in the restaurant at that time? To James’s knowledge, was William ever informed about the money in the luggage? Did William ever speak about the existence of the bag itself? Jerry asks about FM 88.8. Did James hear William on his radio? How far away from William’s transmitter was James when he had tuned in with a simple radio? Did William speak about his conflict with his father publicly on that broadcast? Did he mention, publicly, that it was possible to lock someone in the freezer room?
Jerry Stern moves on to James’s statement that he remembers the key on the shelf of the freezer room at eleven-thirty p.m. How can he be so sure what time it was? How can he be so sure he saw the key? Is there a photo, a video, any visual evidence at all that the key was indeed upon the shelf in the freezer room? In other words, how can they know he’s telling the truth?
“I’m telling the truth,” James insists, and Jerry moves on.
Did Dagou offer him the use of his apartment? Yes, he did. Did Dagou’s offer of his apartment place James in the building when and where Leo Chao’s death took place? Yes, it did. James senses a trap closing around him. Is it possible that Jerry would accuse him of this?
But he does not, and it’s Strycker’s turn again. Did James himself enter the restaurant at any time between 11:55 p.m. and 9:30 Christmas morning? He did not. Did he stay in Dagou’s apartment the entire night? He did. Did he have a witness—was someone present, could anyone attest to the fact that he had not entered the restaurant that night?
James doesn’t answer. He stands, his heart whamming his throat. If he just doesn’t speak, if he does nothing—
“Answer the question, Mr. Chao.”
“Yes.”
“Who was that person?”
Just as he opens his mouth to speak, James hears an echo of his own words to Alice, months ago: Don’t tell your mother.
“Alice Wa.”
There’s a disapproving tcch! from someone in the first rows of the gallery.
Alice’s Secret
Finished with his testimony, James is at last permitted to sit with the others. Fang has saved three seats. Two are for him and Alice. The third is for Ming, who’s not responding to texts. Now, as Alice takes the stand, James finds himself in the midst of a community silent with disapproval. On Fang’s other side, Lynn is frantically taking notes.
After learning Alice was subpoenaed, Lynn and Fang speculated she might be too frightened to give more than yes-or-no answers. But James knew better. Now, as Alice faces the room with her chin raised, he sees more powerfully than ever that what she will say is unknown to him. He feels a stab of longing for Alice—not physical desire, exactly, but more an echo of desire. He’s thrust her into the public; now he’s powerless to do more than watch events unfold.
Strycker goes straight to Christmas Eve. He asks her to confirm that James was with her for the entire night of December 24–25. When did she and James enter William’s apartment? What time did she leave? What did they do? They talked. About what?
“We were talking about God.” There was a collective sound, half laughter and half relief, from the gallery. Alice says, “We were talking about the question of how if God knows all of our pain, and the suffering the world imposes on us, and how we impose it on each other—that if God is compassionate, and all knowing, how is it possible God doesn’t make himself known to us?” The judge doesn’t ask Alice to stick to the point. Lynn gives Fang and James an odd look. James knows she’s speculating about whether the judge is a religious person. He wonders if she might muse about this in her blog.
“Did you and James discuss his relationship with his father?”
“We compared the love of God to parental love.”
“Did you fall asleep?”
“Yes.”
Alice sighs. She’s finished what she came to say. Together, she and Strycker have exonerated James.
But Strycker continues. “Did you hear anything unusual that night?”
A bit of pink flares into Alice’s cheeks.
“Please speak up.”
She stands stubbornly for a moment. “I told you,” she says to Strycker, “I don’t want to talk about this. And you said—”
“Please answer the question, Ms. Wa,” says Judge Lopate.
There’s a pause. Then Alice says, “Yes. I heard something. I thought, sometime very late, I heard a noise—”
“I’ll be finished in a minute, Ms. Wa. Can you describe the noise?”
“It was a—faint thumping, or banging. It was on and off, while I fell asleep and woke up again.”
“Did you tell James about the noise?”
“No.”
“Did he wake up?”
Alice looks at her feet. “Yes. He woke up once.”
“Did the two of you discuss hearing the noise?”
There’s a strained silence. “Yes.”
“Please speak up, Ms. Wa.”
“Could he identify the source?”
“I—no, I don’t think so. Because he asked me if I thought he should go check. And I told him to go back to sleep.” Her voice is higher now, the voice of a child.
“Could you identify it, Ms. Wa?”
“I—I thought it was a ghost.”
“To clarify: you heard a banging noise and thought it was a ghost?”
“Yes.”
Soon after, Alice is led back out by the bailiff. As planned, she returns to the gallery and sits in the empty chair next to James. James takes her hand; it’s cold. She doesn’t look at him.