“Have you considered the possibility that JoAnne isn’t cheating on Neil? That she was meeting me just as a friend?”
“In situations like this, I’ve found that the suspected spouse is always cheating. That will be the outcome here as well. It is simply a matter of how we get to that inevitable outcome.”
“I can’t lead you there. Because it didn’t happen.”
In an era of Big Data and plentiful information, it’s always possible to find evidence to support any point of view, whether it is right or wrong. I think of the run-up to the war in Iraq, yellowcake uranium in Africa, atrocities in Kurdistan—the tidal wave of evidence, both true and false, that leads nations to the decision to go to war.
Gordon gives me a pained smile. “Here’s my suggestion. You testify that JoAnne made some sort of overt act or statement that indicated she was interested in pursuing a sexual relationship with you. You don’t have to say anything more. You don’t have to incriminate yourself. We can just leave it at that. You can plead to some unrelated, minor offense, accept the judgment, and move on with your life. Quite simple. Won’t you at least do it for Alice?”
When I don’t answer, he scowls. “Look, I’m doing everything I can to help you, Jake. I’m out on a limb here, and you don’t seem to appreciate it. You probably don’t know that there is an auxiliary handbook that addresses The Pact’s implementation requirements. It’s not for members but for enforcement personnel like myself, and it guides me in carrying out my responsibilities. This is an unusual circumstance, however, in that it involves an executive’s wife. In the interests of expediency, Neil arranged for us to have an expanded array of techniques. Each time we implement a new technique, we need an order from the judge. I’ve already obtained that authority. I can’t share with you the specific set of techniques that have been authorized, but I can tell you that they’re something you don’t really want to experience.” His face is turning red. “If this is all about some sort of misguided altruism, I assure you that JoAnne won’t want to experience them either.”
“You’re saying that the only way for me to save myself and JoAnne is to lie. But if I do lie and give you what you want, how do I know that the punishment for JoAnne won’t be even worse?”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
I look up at Maurie, hoping for some sort of guidance, but he’s studying the floor.
“One of the hard-and-fast rules, Jake, is that you can only be held here for six days without being charged. Once you are charged, we get a week to prepare for the hearing. You can request more time, but I cannot. Do you understand why I’m telling you these things?”
“No.”
“It means we must come to an understanding during the next three or four days. I will need to escalate things quickly, which I don’t like—and I know you won’t. In my previous work, I could take my time, hold someone for weeks on end. I could get to know them, mete out punishments slowly, and ensure that when we reached an understanding it was firm and truthful.”
“Look, I have not had a relationship with JoAnne Charles in many years. No matter how many times you ask me the question, the facts won’t change. I’m not an adulterer.”
We glare at each other. Clearly, we’ve reached an impasse. I can’t see a way out. “Can I call my wife?”
“Yes, maybe that would be a good idea.”
Gordon pulls a phone out of his back pocket. I recite Alice’s cell number and he enters it. He puts me on speakerphone.
I don’t know where she will be; I realize I don’t actually know what day or time it is.
“Hello?”
Alice’s voice, after everything that’s happened over these past few hours, is almost more than I can take.
“Jake? Is that you?”
“Alice.”
I can hear office sounds in the background, then a door shutting and quiet. “Jake, are you hurt? Where are you? Can I come to get you?”
“I’m still at Fernley. I’m not with my lawyer right now, and I’m not alone. I’m in an interrogation.”
I hear her frightened intake of breath. “What did the judge say?”
“I haven’t seen a judge yet. They just keep asking me questions. They want me to say things. Things that aren’t true.”
A long silence. More doors shutting, elevator, then street noise. Finally, Alice says, “Just tell them whatever they want to hear.”
“But what they want to hear is a lie, Alice.”
“Jake, for me, for our marriage, please give them what they want.”
With that, Gordon clicks the speaker off. Maurie leaves the room and the door slams behind him.
“Are you ready to have that conversation now?”
“I need to think.”
“Wrong answer,” he says, standing so fast his chair topples over. “Time’s up.” He stalks out. The light goes off. I’m in the dark, confused, uncertain, and I feel like I can still hear Alice’s voice echoing off of the walls.
Minutes pass before the lights come on. A mustached man in a black uniform walks in. He looks like a cross between a plumber and an accountant. “Looks like you’re our first guinea pig for this one.” He’s holding a black canvas bag. “I apologize in advance. I would say, ‘Let me know if this hurts,’ but I’m fairly certain it will.”
The plumber clicks two metal bracelets around my wrists. Then he leans down, pulls my pant leg up and clicks two on my ankles. I’m relieved when he stands to go, but then I sense him behind me. He pushes a rubber ball into my mouth, securing it in place with a strap. “Nice to meet you, Jake,” he says, then leaves the room.
By the time Gordon returns with a laptop, my mouth is dry, my jaw aching. “This is four on the escalation levels,” he informs me. “I’m sorry it had to get to this.” He taps a few buttons on his computer, then looks up. “These things around your wrists and ankles, as I think you might have guessed, are electrodes.”
I hadn’t guessed.
“I’ve set the program for one hour. Every four minutes, one of your limbs will receive a shock. The program is random, so you won’t know which one until it happens. Okay?”
No. Not okay. Drool dribbles around the rubber ball and down my chin.
“Sorry about the headgear. It’s to protect your teeth and gums. Anyway, it’s set to start in four minutes. I can’t stop it now, even if you wanted to talk.”
I shake my head and try to speak through the bit, but my tongue is useless.
“See you in an hour,” Gordon says. “We’ll have a chance to talk before we get to level five.”
“Please.” It’s what I’m thinking, and I try to say it, but the word is mangled, unintelligible.