“Yes, Your Honor,” Tibor said.
“Is there any reason for this court to be concerned about your ability to speak and understand that English language? Do you need an interpreter?”
“No, Your Honor. I have lived in Philadelphia for many years. I am competent both in speaking and understanding English.”
“All right,” the judge said. “Then we’ll begin. Please sit down, Father Kasparian. If the attorney for the Commonwealth will please rise.”
The attorney who rose from the prosecution table was not somebody Gregor recognized, but it hardly mattered. He kept staring at Tibor’s back. Now that he was seeing Tibor in person, this whole thing made even less sense than it had when he’d only heard about it.
Gregor wasn’t sure how he would have expected Tibor to behave if he’d actually been guilty of a murder, but this was not it. The problem was, it wasn’t the way he’d have expected Tibor to behave if he had been wrongly accused, either. The back was straight and unbending and without a hint of compromise. Tibor’s voice, when he spoke, was dead flat and without affect.
The attorney for the Commonwealth had sat down. Tibor was standing up again.
The judge said, “You have heard the charges against you. How do you plead?”
Bennis sat forward on her chair, tensed. Gregor couldn’t help himself. He sat forward, too.
Tibor’s back did not bend or shake, or even stoop. His voice, when it came, was clear and almost without accent.
“If it please the court,” he said. “I plead nolo contendere.”
PART TWO
ONE
1
There were reporters in the court. Of course there were. Gregor didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. Cameras were barred, except by special permission of the judge, but reporters came in like the rest of the public, and there was no chance they would have skipped this particular arraignment.
It wasn’t only the reporters who were making a fuss, however. They were restricting themselves to scribbling furiously on notepads. The guard at the door had collected cell phones, probably to ensure that there were no phone pictures of the arraignment.
Lida Arkmanian didn’t need a cell phone to cause a disturbance, and although Bennis and Donna were better, they weren’t exactly quiet.
“What does it mean?” Lida wailed, and kept wailing, minute after minute, while the judge brought his gavel down over and over again.
Gregor tried not to think of what that gavel pounding reminded him of.
Bennis turned around and said, “He can’t do that, can he? He can’t plead nolo contendere to a murder charge.”
“For God’s sake,” George Edelson said. “What the hell does he think he’s doing?”
That last thing was the most important question. If Gregor could have gotten close enough to Tibor to shake him, he’d have asked it himself.
The judge’s gavel started to do some good. The crowd began to quiet down. Gregor realized the bailiff was bellowing, and hadn’t been heard over the rest of the din. The judge looked as if his patience had been tried, found wanting, and thrown in a ditch.
“Watch out,” George Edelson said. “I think the excrement is about to hit the fan.”
The judge waited until the courtroom was entirely quiet. Then he looked at Father Tibor and said, “Father Kasparian, do you have any idea what you’re talking about? Do you know what nolo contendere means?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Fine,” the judge said. “Explain it to me.”
Gregor had no doubt that Tibor knew what the phrase meant, but, like the judge, he wondered what the man was trying to do. It would help if Tibor would show some emotion. Instead, his back was straight, his voice was colorless, and he was calmer than anybody else in the room.
“To plead nolo contendere,” Tibor said, “means that I acknowledge that the police have enough evidence to arrest me, and the prosecution has enough evidence to convict me, but I do not plead guilty, and I do not admit to any guilt.”
The judge sat staring for a while. He was as clear of emotion as Tibor had been—except, Gregor thought, that he looked interested.
“Do you understand, Father Kasparian, that you are here charged with capital murder? That as a capital case, the result of a conviction, by whatever means, could result in the death penalty?”
“Yes,” Tibor said.
“Did I notice a little hesitation, Father Kasparian? Because if I were in your position, I’d be showing a great deal of hesitation right now.”
“I am not hesitating,” Tibor said.
“Are you prepared to be executed?” the judge said.
This time, Tibor did hesitate. “From my understanding,” he said, “it is not usually the case that men are executed in this state except after a jury trial.”