Fighting Chance(41)

The judge suddenly seemed to unwind. “Ah,” he said. “I see. You hope that by entering such a plea, you will avoid a death penalty that might be imposed after a trial.”

“No,” Tibor said.

“No? But you just said that was what you were doing.”

“Please excuse me, Your Honor,” Tibor said. “You asked me if I was prepared to be executed. I only said that, as I understand it, that would not be a plausible outcome for this kind of plea.”

“And you’re willing to trust in the plausibilities?”

“I think it is too early to think about it.”

The judge stared over his desk at Tibor. The stare went on for a long time, second after second. For once, everybody in the courtroom was absolutely silent.

Then the judge leaned even farther toward Tibor, so far that his body stretched almost across the desk. “Father Kasparian,” the judge said, “I have no idea where you heard about the plea of nolo contendere. You’re not a lawyer, you’re not even willing to speak to a lawyer. But a lawyer could have told you what I’m going to tell you now, and saved both of us a lot of trouble. I will not accept a plea of nolo contendere in this case. It is not a proper plea to the charges here made, and would not be acceptable to any judge in any court in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. I will ask you now, one more time, to enter a proper plea to these charges before this court. Guilty or not guilty, Father Kasparian. Take your pick.”

Tibor seemed to sway a little. “I have the right to remain silent,” he said finally.

“I’ve told you before, Father Kasparian. You do not have the right to remain silent in the matter of a plea. Guilty or not guilty, Father Kasparian?”

Tibor stood where he was, not budging.

“All right, then,” the judge said. “I hereby enter a plea in this case of not guilty.”

“I have not said it, Your Honor,” Tibor said.

“It doesn’t matter if you’ve said it or not,” the judge said. “A plea must be entered, and I cannot enter a guilty plea for you. But here’s what I can do: I am recommending to the court that will try you that your right to represent yourself be revoked. It is my considered judgment that you’re either incompetent to represent yourself or attempting an elaborate maneuver to evade justice. Whichever one it is, you won’t be getting away with it any longer. The plea in this case has been entered as not guilty. This hearing is over. Gentlemen, please return Father Kasparian to his jail cell. Maybe if he sits in it long enough, he’ll appreciate the wisdom of getting himself a lawyer to get himself out of it.”

And then, just like that, it was over. The bailiff said, “All rise.” The judge and everybody else rose for a single ceremonious second. Then Tibor was handcuffed again and led out of the room in shackles.

“For God’s sake,” George Edelson said again.

“Gregor, what’s going on here?” Bennis demanded.

“Out in the hall,” Gregor said.

They all trooped out into the front foyer, passing other people coming in, another prisoner being led through in handcuffs and shackles. Gregor made a quick look around, but Tibor was already gone.

“Gregor, you can’t just keep shutting me up,” Bennis said. “What just happened in there? What in the name of hell is going on?”

“He got that judge angry,” Donna said. “I could see it. It can’t be a good idea to get the judge angry.”

“Gregor, there’s got to be some explanation for what he’s doing. Either that, or he’s gone completely insane,” Bennis said. “I think he’s going completely insane. What could that possibly have been in aid of?”

“He couldn’t have thought he was going to get away with that,” George Edelson said. “Not if he’s got half a brain in his head. I’ve met him. He’s got half a brain in his head.”

Gregor stood still in the eddy of people that moved continuously and never went anywhere. The alarm bells that had been going off in his head since this whole thing started were now on full alert. It wasn’t just that something was wrong. It was that something was very, very wrong and getting wronger by the minute.

“I don’t think he knew what was going to happen when he did that,” Gregor said. “I think he was taking a shot.”

“But why?” Bennis demanded.

Gregor didn’t know.

2

Out on the courthouse steps, Gregor Demarkian tried to tear his mind away from what had gone on in the courtroom to figure out what he ought to do next. It was not so easy to know as it ought to have been. Gregor had been investigating murders of one kind or another for decades. He understood procedures and the need for them. He understood that every investigation required an order, and that there were very few orders to choose from.