Compared to camera-ready Tess Hardy, with her statuesque figure, perfect makeup, and chic short blond hair, Bastinelli seems unenthusiastic about facing the media. But he’s got a good reputation as a prosecutor. And he has a high conviction rate.

That’s the only statistic I really care about.

CHAPTER
87

At some silent signal, the clerk near the judge’s bench gets up from his chair and commands, “All rise!”

All of us in the courtroom obey, like a church congregation.

The twelve jurors and four alternates come in and take their seats. I’m a little surprised to see three faces of color—two middle-aged Black women and one young Asian man. That’s more diversity than I expected in New Hampshire.

From here on in, they’ll be sequestered in an information bubble, isolated from news about the trial. But bubbles burst every day.

Superior court judge Walter Dow strides in from chambers. I can see a blue shirt and red necktie peeking from beneath his black robe. Dow is sixty, tanned, with close-cropped white hair and black-rimmed glasses. He settles into his large leather chair on the bench and nods to the room. “Please be seated.”

I’ve already got three pages of notes on Walter Dow for the book. Born in Michigan. High-school basketball star. BU undergrad. Cornell Law School. Worked in the New Hampshire attorney general’s office for a decade. Has been on the superior court for sixteen years.

Since Dow was assigned to this case four months ago, his personal life has been dissected in the press. Divorced, now remarried, son and daughter in college. He enjoys mountain climbing and takes his Coca-Cola with ice cubes.

When the New York Times reported that Judge Dow was considered a moderate in New Hampshire, the Washington Post fired back that a moderate in New Hampshire would be considered to the right of Genghis Khan in more progressive states.

I could not care less about the judge’s politics. I just want a fair trial. And in my heart of hearts, I’m hoping for a conviction so airtight that it can’t be overturned on appeal.

Dow turns to the clerk. “Mr. Begley, please swear in the jurors.”

The clerk faces the jury box. “If you would please stand and raise your right hands.” The jurors obey. “And when the oath is concluded, respond, ‘I do.’” The clerk stands up straight and asks the long-winded question: “Do you solemnly swear or affirm that you will carefully consider the evidence and the law presented to you in this case and that you will deliver a fair and true verdict as to the charge or charges against the defendant?”

There’s a chorus of “I do” from the jury box, some muttered, some full voice.

The judge adjusts his glasses. “Mr. Begley, you may read the indictment.”

The clerk turns to the defense table. “The defendant will please stand.”