Dad returns Shad’s indignant glare with a physician’s disdain for mincing lawyers. “What do you think, Counselor?”

“Your Honor?” Shad prompts.

“Answer the question, Doctor.”

“Yes, I know that’s against the law.”

I cringe at my father’s words, but after four days of trial, his frank answers are like cold, refreshing water thrown in the faces of the jury. It’s plain to everyone that Dad could easily have denied assisting patients to die, just as he could have denied having adrenaline with him on the night Viola died. He is making statements against his own interest, and this ultimately bolsters his claim that he’s telling the truth regardless of the risk to himself. And that, of course, is the behavior of only two kinds of people: the insane and the innocent.

“But despite having euthanized patients before,” Shad presses, “you did not attempt to euthanize Mrs. Turner on the night in question?”

“That’s correct. I pushed the needle through her vein to be sure I did not inject a lethal dose. My goal was simply to buy time, for myself and for Viola.”

It’s all about that Dumpster tape, I think. Shad is waiting for that recording to appear like God from a machine, literally, to do his work for him.

Shad pauses, head cocked and eyes on my father, as he decides which interrogatory path to take next. He might be a surgeon choosing a scalpel. As he stands there, all eyes upon him, my phone vibrates in my pocket. As covertly as possible I take it out and read the text, which is from John Kaiser.

Classified Tech Division of the Crime Lab reports they are unable to restore tape S-16 to usable form. Particles too scrambled for any coherent reconstruction. I’m about to give Johnson the news.

The sensation of watching John Kaiser walk up to the assistant DA seated behind Shad’s table, and then that ADA walk to his boss and whisper in his ear, is one of the more delicious experiences I’ve had in a long time. Shad’s mouth goes slack, then he whips his head to the side in search of Kaiser, who is kneeling by the prosecution table. Leaving his assistant, Shad hurries to his table and engages Kaiser in a frenzied exchange of whispers.

“Mr. Johnson?” asks the judge. “Would you share with us what is going on? Are we about to see another tape?”

“I’m not sure, Your Honor. There’s some confusion about that. Would the court grant me sixty seconds to verify something with the FBI by telephone?”

“Is Agent Kaiser unable to give you the information you need?”

Shad grimaces, his eyes burning. “The State requests sixty seconds, Your Honor.”

Joe Elder sighs with resentment. “If you must.”