It's the best he can do with what they have. Rosenthal looked into creating a false voucher, but the risks outweighed the benefits. The car service would likely have complied, given that Cromwell Altman is their biggest client. And a driver might have been paid off too, swearing that he took Aaron from work that night. But it was Aaron who ultimately thought they were going too far out on a limb for a minor point. Putting his trust in Cynthia or Rachel was one thing, but putting it in a limo driver was quite another. Plus those yellow cabs really were like sharks anyway, which made plausible each of the scenarios he had laid out.

And so, after establishing Aaron's alibi as best as lying can do, Rosenthal ends the examination with a closing flurry.

"Mr. Littman, did you kill Judge Nichols?"

"No."

"Just no?"

"What else can I say beyond no?"

I didn't do it. You have to believe me.

59.

Federal prosecutors don't cross-examine many witnesses. Partly this is because trials in federal court are rare as a general matter, with well over 90 percent of defendants pleading out. And, at least in New York City, the defendants who do go to trial are usually drug dealers and organized-crime figures, and they don't call many witnesses on their own behalf because their a.s.sociates tend to be criminals as well.

As she prepares to ask her first question, however, Victoria Donnelly doesn't seem the least bit apprehensive. On the contrary, she looks like a predator eyeing prey.

"Mr. Littman," she says as if his name is an epithet, "let me get straight here what you're asking this jury to believe. First, you claim that you never had an affair with Judge Nichols, even though her husband provided sworn testimony that he saw the two of you holding hands as you left the Ritz-Carlton hotel. Do I have that right?"

"I never had an affair with Judge Nichols and I was never with her at the Ritz-Carlton-other than the one time I spoke about, during a banquet that was attended by hundreds of others. Needless to say, that also means that I never held hands with her at any time."

"So, Mr. Christensen, Judge Nichols's widower . . . he's a liar. That's your testimony?"

Aaron knows this is the most precarious part: to maintain his innocence and yet not appear as someone asking the jury to disbelieve everyone but him.

"I don't know why Mr. Christensen testified as he did. Perhaps he's mistaken. Perhaps he lied to you so that he wouldn't be considered a suspect. I don't know. What I do know is that I did not have an affair with Judge Nichols."

I didn't do it. You have to believe me.

"But you did frequent the hotel, didn't you? You're not claiming that the Ritz-Carlton's records are also lying, are you?"

Donnelly's clearly trying to get a rise out of Aaron, to show the jury that he's a man p.r.o.ne to outbursts. His job, therefore, is to remain cool, no matter what she hurls at him.

"As my wife and I both previously testified, we went to the hotel about once a week. It was part of our date nights."

"So just a coincidence, is that your testimony? A clerk at the Ritz-Carlton says that Judge Nichols was often there. Her widower says he saw you hand in hand with his wife at the hotel, and you admit that you were there but claim that you were there with your wife. Do I have all of that right? It's all just one big coincidence?"

"My experience in criminal practice is that the prosecution often takes a fact-for example, my presence at the Ritz-Carlton from time to time-and pressures witnesses to conform their recollection to such facts. So, a clerk at the Ritz-Carlton might be pressured to say that she remembered Faith being there on multiple occasions when the truth could be that she saw her once for a business meeting . . . and like I said, Judge Nichols was at the hotel for the George Vanderlyn banquet. As for Mr. Christensen, all I can say is that a spouse is often a suspect when the wife is murdered, and therefore he might say just about anything to save his own skin."

"Well, finally, something we can agree on, Mr. Littman," Donnelly says. "Some people would say anything to save their own skin. Is Roy Sabato also lying to save his own skin when he says that he told you that Nicolai Garkov would make public some very incriminating information about you if you did not agree to meet with him?"

Aaron's already conceded this, so he's got no choice but to take it on the chin.

"Yes, that is what Roy said."

"And the information he was talking about-the information he claimed Mr. Garkov would make public if you didn't meet with him-that was your affair with Judge Nichols, wasn't it?"

"No. That's not the case. As I testified, I did not have an affair with Judge Nichols."

"But you admit that Mr. Sabato said that Mr. Garkov had information that would be extremely damaging to you?"

"As I've said repeatedly now, Mr. Garkov didn't have any information. He was bluffing when he told Mr. Sabato to say that."

"Yes, yes. That's your story and you're sticking to it."

Aaron doesn't answer, and Donnelly appears content to have the silence permeate the courtroom. When she's played out the theatrics to their fullest extent, she fires off another question.

"Mr. Littman, on the night Judge Nichols was killed, she received two phone calls from the same phone number, and she made a phone call to that number. Is it your testimony that you didn't make those calls or receive a call from her?"

"Yes, it is."

Donnelly pulls a piece of paper from the pile of exhibits that have already been introduced. Then she reads: "Faith, please call me at this number as soon as you can. Very important. Are you also telling this jury that you did not send that message?"

"That is correct. I did not send that message."

"If Mr. Garkov was blackmailing you by, let's just say . . . by threatening to reveal your affair with Judge Nichols unless Judge Nichols helped him in his case, that is the kind of text you would have sent, correct?"

Aaron looks across the courtroom at Rosenthal. The question is way out of bounds, but Rosenthal doesn't object. Instead he offers Aaron a slow nod, his way of conveying that Aaron's got to sink or swim on his own, lest the jury believe Rosenthal is trying to obstruct them from hearing the truth.

"The question is based on a false premise," Aaron says calmly. "I can't answer it because I wasn't having an affair with Judge Nichols, and Mr. Garkov was not blackmailing me, and because I didn't send that text."

"And according to you, Mr. Littman, you were in the office the night of the murder with Rachel London?"

"I was in the Garkov war room with Ms. London, yes."

"You and Ms. London are very close, aren't you, Mr. Littman?"

"I'm close to a great many of my partners at Cromwell Altman. I don't know what you mean by very close, though."

He knows as soon as he's said it that he should have let Donnelly have that one. But cross-examination is a bit like drowning in that way-when you start to go under, none of your senses work and your actions are often counterproductive.

"Yes, Mr. Littman, I should have known that you love all two hundred of your partners equally and completely," Donnelly says. "C'mon, let's be honest with the jury, shall we? There's only one partner that you asked to a.s.sist you on the Eric Matthews case. Who was that?"

"Rachel London."

"And there was only one that you asked to a.s.sist you on the Garkov case. Who was that?"

"Again, Ms. London."

"Right. And, in fact, Ms. London owes her partnership to you, doesn't she?"

Aaron pauses, contemplating whether he can credibly push back on the a.s.sertion. Donnelly takes advantage of the silence to deny him that path.

"Mr. Littman, if I called to the stand any number of your partners, wouldn't they tell me that your blessing alone is enough to elevate an a.s.sociate to that bra.s.s ring, and the millions of dollars in compensation that come with it?"

Aaron feels like he can no longer struggle against the current. "As the chairman of the firm . . . my vote has considerable weight, yes."

"Thank you, Mr. Littman. It wasn't so hard to tell the truth, now, was it?"

Judge Siskind looks over to defense counsel table, apparently expecting Rosenthal to object. But when he says nothing, she takes it upon herself.

"Dial it down a notch, Ms. Donnelly," she says.

Donnelly, however, continues the onslaught. "And you claim that you just don't remember how you got home the night Judge Nichols was murdered. Is that your story?"

"It's not a story, Ms. Donnelly. That's my sworn testimony."

Donnelly smiles at him with contempt. "And it's also your sworn testimony that you might have-after midnight on a cold winter night-decided to take a little stroll in midtown Manhattan and then look for a cab, rather than just get inside one of the limousines your law firm has parked right in front of its building to shuttle the partners to and from work. Do I have that part of your sworn testimony right?"

"As I testified before, I sometimes do walk for a block or two. Just to clear my head. It's quite easy to find a taxi in midtown Manhattan at that time of night."

"But you didn't submit for the expense, did you, Mr. Littman? So, you have a free ride with the car service, but you're claiming that you decided to pay for the ride yourself."

"That's also not uncommon. A taxi from the office to my apartment is probably six or seven dollars. I don't mean to be cavalier about it, and when I remember to ask for a receipt, I will sometimes seek reimburs.e.m.e.nt, but given that I'm charging the client fifteen hundred dollars an hour for my time, I don't feel like I have to get reimbursed every time I spend a couple of dollars out of my own pocket."

Donnelly comes to a full stop. Like an athlete psyching herself up, she appears to be preparing for a final onslaught.

Aaron knows that means she's going to question him about the 9:48 phone call to his office. Her smoking gun.

"Mr. Littman, you claim you never spoke to Judge Nichols on the night she was murdered, but you admit, do you not, that there was a call made from Judge Nichols's phone to your office at 9:48 p.m. on the evening she was killed."

"I have seen the records that indicate that, yes."

Aaron can hear in his voice the defensiveness that juries hate. Of greater concern is the fact that he knows it's about to get worse.

"Mr. Littman, you are not suggesting, are you, that the phone company is also lying?"

"No."

"So, Judge Faith Nichols-a judge before whom you were defense counsel-called you from her personal cell phone at nearly ten o'clock at night."

As damaging as the statement is, it's not a question, and so Aaron stays mute.

"Mr. Littman, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you testify that you were in the office that night? Your story is that you and Ms. London were side by side all night. But you also admit that maybe . . . just maybe . . . you left her side for . . . I don't know . . . three minutes and three seconds here and there. Enough time for you to be in your office to be on that phone call."

Having put forth this lie, Aaron has no choice but to perpetuate it. "I was in the office at that time, yes."

"And yet you still deny that you spoke to Judge Nichols at 9:48 p.m.?"

"I didn't speak to her," he says.

He might as well have said, You have to believe me.

AFTER AARON'S EXCUSED FROM the witness box, the defense rests. Judge Siskind tells the jury that she wants to complete closing arguments that evening and that they can begin their deliberations the following morning. She declares a ten-minute recess so the lawyers can gather their thoughts, and everyone stands as the jury makes their way out of the courtroom.

Rosenthal is upbeat, telling Aaron that he did well. Aaron, however, could feel it all slipping away when he couldn't explain that last phone call.

60.

Donnelly's closing argument seems overly strident to Aaron, but it's not uncommon for defendants to feel that way. Hearing someone accuse you of committing an unthinkable act often sounds desperate to you but compelling to a jury.

Even Aaron has to admit, however, that the evidence against him is compelling. The affair is proven by the Ritz-Carlton records and the eyewitnesses. The blackmail by Nicolai Garkov. And the 9:48 call puts Aaron in contact with Judge Nichols right before she was killed.

"And what does the defense say in reb.u.t.tal?" Donnelly asks rhetorically. "That none of it is true. No affair. No blackmail. And that the call was made by someone else, someone trying to frame Mr. Littman, perhaps." At this Donnelly pauses, as if she's just thought of something, despite the fact that lawyers practice their closings for hours and almost never ad-lib. "But if there was no affair, as Mr. Littman and his wife claim, how would anyone know to call Mr. Littman to frame him?" Then she just shakes her head. "The defense makes no sense. None. The only reasonable conclusion consistent with the evidence is that Aaron Littman murdered his lover, Faith Nichols, so that Nicolai Garkov would not reveal that Mr. Littman and Judge Nichols were having an affair-news that would have destroyed the defendant's marriage and his career."

Rosenthal's closing pokes holes in what the prosecution presented. As Aaron listens to Rosenthal do the best with what he has, he knows that the defense has not provided an alternative murderer for the jury to consider, which means that he's asking them to reach a verdict in which no one will be held accountable for Faith Nichols's murder.

At six o'clock, Judge Siskind completes her jury instructions. The jurors a.s.semble out of the courtroom without making eye contact with Aaron, but he tells himself not to read anything into that and takes comfort in the fact that the trial is finally over.

All except the verdict, that is.

AARON ENTERS HIS HOME that evening with only one thought in mind: this might be the last night he ever spends here. The sad realization hits him that this will be the case every time he comes home until there's a verdict.

Aaron and Cynthia make love for the third night in a row. Like coming home, he wonders if this, too, will be the last time.

WHEN ERIC MATTHEWS WAS sentenced, Faith read her decision from the bench, going on for ten minutes about the seriousness of the crime and how a message had to be sent to both Wall Street and Main Street that financial fraud was every bit as destructive to the fabric of society as violent crime. When she finally uttered the payoff line-"I sentence you to fourteen years in prison"-Matthews didn't show the slightest emotion. He didn't even turn around when his wife let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

After Faith struck the gavel, while the guards were grabbing Matthews's arms to handcuff him, he turned to Aaron and said, "What happened?"

"She sentenced you to fourteen years," Aaron replied. "We have strong arguments on appeal-"

"No. What did she say about me?"

Eric Matthews wasn't even the worst Aaron had ever experienced. Robert Fox, who was at one time considered the most feared man on Wall Street, literally p.i.s.sed himself when he was sentenced to eight years. And back in the day, when the sentencing guidelines were mandatory, Aaron had two clients commit suicide before sentencing.

Now it's his turn. Above all else, Aaron's determined to preserve some modic.u.m of dignity if the worst is to occur.

CYNTHIA AND THE GIRLS are present in the courtroom to wait for the verdict. Aaron wanted to spare them, but Cynthia prevailed upon him that it was important for them to share the experience. Besides, she said, nothing was going to keep her out of the courtroom, and Lindsay and Samantha would be anxiously waiting wherever they were, and she preferred them all to be together.

Midmorning on the second day of deliberations, the jury delivers a note that they've reached a verdict. That most likely means that someone switched sides overnight, as juries usually vote before adjourning for the evening.