Yet you knew without the shadow of a doubt what was going on in a cot twenty feet away, clear across the room, while you were blindfolded and literally deprived of any other sensory perception. Is that what you’re saying?

Yes.

You’re a liar. Aren’t you? No.

You are a liar. You’ve been a liar all your life, haven’t you?

No.

Isn’t it true that you were classified as a pathological liar by the United States Navy as early as 1966? Didn’t you lie about your age to get into the Writers’ Institute? Didn’t you lie about the mileage on a 1963 Chevrolet Impala that you traded in Shreveport, Louisiana, for a Dodge Dart?

I … I don’t—

Remember? Let me refresh your memory. Didn’t you also take a Delco twelve-volt battery in good condition from that same Impala and replace it with a battery that actually had two dead cells, that you had been using with a trolling motor for three years?

Yes. [With head hung]

All right. Now we’re getting somewhere. [Speaking to jury] Look at him, ladies and gentlemen! How’d you like to curl up on Christmas Eve with a good novel by him? [Taking twenty seconds to stroll back to desk, pour glass of water, sip, reflect, study notes carefully, walk back to front] Mr. Lawrence. Let’s go back to the day you and Mr. Varrick were taken from your quarters. Why don’t you just tell us about it?

Which part? You mean when we went over there? I mean, which part do you want to know about?

Why were you and Mr. Varrick selected for this alleged ‘involuntary sex’? Was it because of something you had done?

I’m not sure. They never told us.

Was anybody else ever forced to perform involuntary sex with obese women? Did they just pick people out at random? Did they walk down the line and say, “Well, let’s get him today”?

I don’t know. We were kept isolated.

How did you and Mr. Varrick manage to read each other’s stories and eat lunch a few times if you were isolated? How did you and Mr. Varrick manage to take showers together?

We had visitation. Everybody did.

Well, which was it?

Which was what?

Was it isolation or was it visitation? Why do you keep changing your story?

I’m not changing my story! I’m trying to tell the truth!

I don’t think you are. I think you’re lying. I think you’ve been lying since the first day of this hearing. You’d do anything to get paroled. Wouldn’t you?

No.

Yes you would. You’d perjure yourself to save your own neck, wouldn’t you?

I’m telling you the truth!

I don’t think so.