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Wu put a hand under her client's arm and the two of them rose. "Yes, your honor."

Johnson had done this innumerable times, and although Wu was tuned to a high pitch of anxiety, for him it obviously held all the excitement and drama of a quilting bee. "Mr. Bartlett, I want to ask you if you understand the decision that's been reached here on your behalf."

Andrew's voice was firm. "Yes, your honor, I talked about it with Ms. Wu last night." He turned halfway around, gave a small nod to his parents, then came back to face the judge.

Johnson nodded. "And you understand, Mr. Bartlett, that by admitting this petition filed against you by the State of California that you in fact claim full responsibility for the murders of Michael Mooney and Laura Wright? And that immediately following this proceeding, you will begin serving a term at the California Youth Authority, and will remain in custody until your twenty-fifth birthday?"

Andrew hesitated for an instant and Wu, jumping in, spoke up for him. "Yes, your honor. Mr. Bartlett understands."

But Johnson shook his head. "I'd like to hear it from him, Counselor. Mr. Bartlett?"

Andrew looked at Wu, then up to the judge. When he began the first time, he was almost inaudible, so he cleared his throat and started again. "I understand about the sentence. That's what we decided I had to agree to." Clearing his throat again, he went on. "But I'm not really comfortable…" He stopped, turned back to his parents again, came back around to Johnson. "But I can't say that I killed anybody, because I didn't."

Wu had a sense of the world spinning before her. She reached out, put her hand on her client's arm. "No, wait, Andrew!" Then, addressing the judge: "Your honor, if I may-"

But Johnson gaveled her to silence. He removed his glasses, squinted out over the podium. "No, Counselor, you may not, not for a minute anyway." He pointed a finger at Andrew. "Mr. Bartlett, I want to hear you say it yourself one more time. You're not admitting the petition?"

"Your honor." Wu spoke up in a panic. She couldn't let this happen. "I'd like to request a short recess."

Over on her right, she heard Brandt close his binder with a sharp snap.

"Request denied," Johnson said. "We just got here." Back at Andrew. "Mr. Bartlett? Repeat your plea."

This time Andrew's voice was much more forceful. "I'm just saying that I didn't kill anybody."

Behind her, Wu could hear the Norths reacting with a muted enthusiasm. Needing to undo what Andrew had done, she turned to him, whispered urgently. "You can't do this, Andrew. You're looking at life in prison. Don't you understand?"

The judge brought his gavel down again. "Ms. Wu, Mr. Brandt." He motioned with his head. "Chambers." And he was up in a swirl of black robes.

Johnson was waiting, facing them as they came through his door. No trace of anything avuncular softened his countenance as he reached around and closed the door behind them all. He came right to the point. "I don't tolerate being trifled with in my courtroom, Ms. Wu. What is this supposed to be, some kind of publicity stunt? Or delaying tactic?"

She tried to swallow, get a breath. "No, your honor."

"No to which?"

"Neither, your honor. I'm as surprised as you are."

Johnson looked to Brandt- who wisely stood at respectful attention- then came back to Wu. "This is unacceptable. What do you expect me to do now?"

"I'll go talk to him."

"And what good will that do?"

"I'll get him… He's just afraid. He was on board with this last night. He just couldn't go through with it, that's all."

The judge crossed his arms. "Stop wasting my time. As far as I'm concerned, he's denied the petition. This is really unacceptable, Counselor," he added. "Wholly unacceptable." Then, making no effort to hide his anger and disgust, he continued. "All right, let's get the show back on the road, go back in there and get this done as fast as we can."

Brandt spoke. "Your honor, if I may?"

Johnson turned his glare on him. "What?"

"I just wanted to say that Ms. Wu isn't as naive as she's pretending to be. She knew the conditions when she cut her deal. Andrew admits or he goes up as an adult."

"I think we all knew that," Johnson said. "So now we're going to have him tried as an adult. Ms. Wu should agree to that." His stare at her brooked no denial.

Brandt nodded, satisfied. "Then we want him certified today, your honor, unless the plan all along was to get him to juvenile court by misrepresenting his intention to admit."

Wu, holding her temper in check, talked to the judge. "Your honor, I promise you, I don't know what he's talking about. I had no such plan. I didn't want Andrew to have to run the risk of an adult trial. An admission, to me, seemed like the right thing."

Johnson's face remained grave, his color high. "I'm just wondering if it's possible that you are actually this ill-prepared, Ms. Wu. Agreeing to plead out a case before securing the client's agreement?" But he didn't wait for her to answer. "It doesn't matter. The point is that Mr. Bartlett, as you undoubtedly must be aware, is already in the juvenile system, you see. Now he can't be tried as an adult without a seven-oh-seven hearing first. Do you expect me to believe you didn't know that?"

Suddenly the enormity of her miscalculation came into much clearer focus. Wu had been acting as though she needed Andrew's admission to secure his place in the juvenile system. But this was not, strictly speaking, the case. What she needed his admission for was merely so that the sentencing could proceed. In fact, Boscacci's initial filing had assured that, legally, Andrew was already in the juvenile system, and hence protected from LWOP as long as he stayed there. "I didn't think…, " she stammered.

"All right," Johnson snapped at her. "You didn't think. So can I now assume that you will agree to waive the seven-oh-seven hearing and have Mr. Bartlett recertified an adult today, as Mr. Brandt here has requested?"

"I… I can't do that, your honor."

"No," Brandt exploded. "No, of course you can't." He obviously, justifiably, thought she'd planned to have her client deny the petition all along. This would not only delay Andrew's eventual trial as an adult, but place another administrative hurdle- the 707 hearing- in the middle of his path. He appealed to Johnson. "I don't believe for a moment, your honor, that this wasn't her plan all along."

"That's not true. That's just not true, your honor."

Brandt ignored her. "Your honor, the only way to read this is she set it up so that she could stall down here for months. But I'm certain that the district attorney is going to want to get this matter back into adult court, so I'd like to ask that the seven-oh-seven be calendared at the earliest possible time."

Johnson gave a last withering look at Wu, then nodded. "I'm inclined to agree with you, Counselor. Let's go out and put it on the record."

11

Look at the bright side," Wes Farrell was saying. "She's convinced the clients that she did it on purpose. She planned it all along. Now the kid catches a break in the seven-oh-seven, maybe he never has to go to trial as an adult, and everybody wins."

"Except the DA never trusts anybody from the firm again."

"Picky, picky." Farrell, on the couch across the room, shrugged. "They probably didn't trust us all that much anyway. Remember, we're defense attorneys, a bare evolutionary step above pond scum."

"That much, you think?" Hardy could joke, but he wasn't amused.

"Maybe not, if you want to get technical. The thing is, though, we're going to help get Jackman elected again, so we're his pals, or will be again soon. It'll all blow over in a few months, and they'll be trusting us as much as they ever did, which- don't kid yourself- is not close to the world record anyway. Meanwhile, Amy's got the Norths thinking she's a latter-day Clara Darrow, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat."

"Swell." Hardy pushed his chair back from his desk. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair, fingers templed at his lips. "So she spins it to deceive the people who are paying her?"