Mortal Lock by Andrew Vachss

just getting started,” Veil told me.
    5
    “Now, Officer, prior to placing the defendant under arrest, did you issue the appropriate Miranda warnings?” the DA asked the sheriff’s deputy.
    “Yes, sir, I did.”
    “And did the defendant agree to speak with you?”
    “Well … he didn’t exactly ‘agree.’ I mean, this ain’t old Leonard’s first rodeo. We knowed it was him, living right across the road and all. So when we went over there to arrest him, he was just sitting on the porch.”
    “But he did tell you that he was responsible for the arson, isn’t that correct, Officer?”
    “Oh yeah. Leonard said he burned it down. Said he’d do it again if those—well, I don’t want to use the language he used here—he’d just burn it down again.”
    “No further questions,” the DA said, turning away in triumph.
    “Did the defendant resist arrest?” Veil asked on cross-examination.
    “Not at all,” the deputy said. “Matter of fact, you could see he was waiting on us.”
    “But if he wanted to resist arrest, he could have, couldn’t he?”
    “I don’t get your meaning,” the deputy said.
    “The man means I could kick your ass without breaking a sweat,” Leonard volunteered from the defendant’s table.
    The judge pounded his gavel a few times. Leonard shrugged, like he’d just been trying to be helpful.
    “Deputy, were you familiar with the location of the fire? You had been there before? In your professional capacity, I mean,” Veil asked him.
    “Sure enough,” the deputy answered.
    “Fair to say the place was a crack house?” Veil asked.
    “No question about that. We probably made a couple of dozen arrests there during the past year alone.”
    “You made any since the house burned down?”
    “You mean … at that same address? Of course not.”
    “Thank you, Officer,” Veil said.
    6
    “Doctor, you were on duty on the night of the thirteenth, is that correct?”
    “That is correct,” the doctor said, eyeing Veil like a man waiting for the doctor to grease up and begin his proctology exam.
    “And your specialty is emergency medicine, is that also correct?”
    “It is.”
    “And when you say ‘on duty,’ you mean you’re in the ER, right?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “In fact, you’re in charge of the ER, aren’t you?”
    “I am the physician in charge, if that is what you’re asking me, sir. I have nothing to do with administration, so …”
    “I understand,” Veil said in a voice sweet as a preacher explaining scripture. “Now, Doctor, have you ever treated patients with burns?”
    “Of course,” the doctor snapped at him.
    “And those range, don’t they? I mean, from first-degree to third-degree burns. Which are the worst?”
    “Third-degree.”
    “Hmmm … I wonder if that’s where they got the term, ‘Give him the third degree’ …?”
    “Your Honor …,” the DA protested again.
    “Mr. Veil, where are you going with this?” the judge asked.
    “To the heart of the truth, Your Honor. And if you’ll permit me …”
    The judge waved a disgusted hand in Veil’s direction. Veil kind of waved back. The big diamond glinted on his hand, catchingthe sun’s rays through the high courthouse windows. “Doctor, you treat anybody with third-degree burns the night of the thirteenth?”
    “I did not.”
    “Second-degree burns?”
    “No.”
    “Even
first
-degree burns?”
    “You know quite well I did not, sir. This isn’t the first time you have asked me these questions.”
    “Sure, I know the answers. But you’re telling the jury, Doctor, not me. Now you’ve seen the photographs of the house that was burnt to the ground. Could anyone have been inside that house and
not
been burned?”
    “I don’t see how,” the doctor snapped. “But that doesn’t mean—”
    “We’ll let the jury decide what it means,” Veil cut him off. “Am I right, Judge?”
    The judge knew when he was being jerked off, but, having told Veil those exact same words a