“You’re saying she was a willing participant?”

“I’m saying it was her idea.”

The prosecutor smiled, and to say that Jack was headed down the wrong track would have been the trial’s grandest understatement. He knew better than to think that Johnson would admit to having forced Lindsey to have sex. He wasn’t going to break down on the witness stand and tearfully confess that he killed Oscar Pintado. That kind of drama happened on television every week, but rarely in a real courtroom. Jack had to score the sure points in his direct examination, let Torres have a shot on cross, and then hope for a few strategic openings that he might capitalize on through redirect. That was the plan, anyway.

Jack said, “Let’s see what we can agree on, shall we, Lieutenant?”

“Sure.”

“You had sex with Lindsey Hart, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“Oscar Pintado saw you have sex with his wife?”

“That’s true.”

“He even took photographs?”

Johnson shifted, as if slightly uncomfortable with that notion. “Yes. He did.”

“Do you also agree that this is something most husbands don’t do?”

“Not the ones I know.”

“Not even for their best friends?”

“Right again.”

“You were Oscar Pintado’s best friend, weren’t you?”

“Best friend on the base. I wouldn’t say I was his best friend in the world.”

“All right. Am I correct in assuming that having sex with Oscar’s wife wasn’t part of your friendship from day one?”

“That’s a fair assumption.”

“That’s something that developed after you two had been friends for a while, correct?”

“Right.”

Jack paused, debating how to proceed. He could launch into a series of questions about how the sex got started, who suggested it, that sort of thing. But that strategy was likely to elicit only lies, or at the very least answers Jack didn’t like. He took a safer approach.

“Oscar Pintado came from a very wealthy family, did he not?”

“That’s my understanding.”

“He’s not the kind of guy who would be tempted by an offer of money from one of his friends.”

“What are you trying to say?” he said, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“You didn’t give him money to have sex with his wife, did you?”

“Of course not. Like I said, it was Lindsey’s idea.”

Jack stepped closer, doing little to mask his skepticism. “Her idea, huh? Let me ask you something, Lieutenant. How many men are on the naval base in Guantánamo at any one time?”

“I don’t know. Several thousand, for sure.”

“Most of them between the age of twenty and thirty?”

“Most of them, yeah.”

“Most of them in pretty darn good shape? Physically, I mean.”

“Sure.”

“Most of them don’t have wives or girlfriends with them on the base, do they?”

“Relatively few do.”

“So, what you’re telling us is this,” said Jack as he walked toward his client, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “While living on a Caribbean Island and surrounded by several thousand hard-bodied, twenty-something men-most of whom hadn’t been intimate with a woman in quite some time-my extremely attractive client decided that she needed to have sex with you while her husband watched and took pictures. This was her great idea; is that what you’re saying?”

A light chorus of chuckles emerged from the audience. Even one of the jurors smiled. The witness burrowed his tongue into his cheek, a sure sign that Jack was getting to him.

Jack said, “Is that what you’re saying, Lieutenant?”

“Look, all I know is that Oscar told me she-”

“Whoa, objection!” shouted Torres. “What Oscar told him is hearsay, Judge.”

“Sustained.”

Jack said, “But, Judge-”

“I sustained the objection, Mr. Swyteck. Move on.”

Jack could have argued about exceptions to the ruling, but it was clear that the judge had heard enough about sex, and he was in no mood to reconsider. Jack’s point was made, nonetheless. It was time to wrap up.

“Lieutenant, just a couple more questions. Obviously you’re an officer in the U.S. Coast Guard.”

“That’s right.”

“If you wanted to know tomorrow’s patrol routes for Coast Guard vessels in the Florida Straits, you’d know how to get that information, wouldn’t you?”

“They don’t give me that information.”

“I didn’t ask that. I said, you’d know how to get it, wouldn’t you?”

“Just because I know how to get it doesn’t mean-”

“Lieutenant, please. Just answer my question. You’d know how to get that information, right?”

Johnson fell silent, as if trying to figure out a way to deny it. Finally, he said, “Yeah. I’d know how to get it.”

“Thank you. No further questions.”

Jack returned to his seat. He didn’t expect smiles from his client, but she looked positively ashen. It was understandable. They’d flirted with fire. But they’d come out ahead.

Thank God.

Torres approached the witness. “How nice to see you here today, Lieutenant.” His voice had just a hint of sarcasm.

“Nice to see you, too.”

All semblance of familiarity drained from Torres’s face. His voice had a definite edge to it, somewhere between a police interrogator and drill sergeant. “Lieutenant, I want to take you back to the morning of June seventeenth, the day Captain Pintado died.”

“All right.”

“We’ve heard testimony in this case that sometime before six A.M. you went to Captain Pintado’s house. Do you admit or deny you were there at that time?”

“I was there.”

“We’ve also heard testimony that you entered the house without knocking. Do you admit or deny that?”

“I admit it.”

“Finally, we heard testimony that you were seen running from the house a few minutes later. Do you admit or deny that?”

“I admit that also.”

Jack looked on, confused. The witness was readily admitting the very things that Jack had thought he would never admit. Something wasn’t right.

Torres said, “Lieutenant, would you please tell the jury why you went to Captain Pintado’s house that morning?”

“Lindsey called me on the telephone. She told me to come over.”

“Did she tell you why she wanted you to come over?”

“She told me that Oscar was gone. She said that he’d taken Brian fishing, so it could be just the two of us.”

“What did you take that to mean?”

He shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “That we could have sex without Oscar being around.”

“Were you agreeable to that?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“She said, ‘I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll leave the door unlocked. Come straight to the bedroom. I have a big surprise for you.’ ”

“What did you do?”

“What do you think? Got in my car and drove over.”

“What happened when you got there?”

“I did exactly as she told me. The door was unlocked and I went inside, straight back to the bedroom. That’s when I found Oscar’s body. He was still in bed, soaked in blood.”

Torres was clearly energized, practically tripping over his own questions, so caught up in his own roll. “What did you do?”

“I ran through the house, made sure there weren’t more bodies. That’s when I found Brian in his room.”

“Did you say anything to him?”

“Yes. You know, he’s deaf, but he can read lips to a certain extent. I said, ‘Brian, what happened to your father?’ ”

“Did he respond?”

Johnson said, “Brian started to cry. Then he looked at me and said-”

“Objection, hearsay,” said Jack. There was a knot in Jack’s stomach as he spoke. He wanted to hear the answer-perhaps he wanted to hear it more than anyone else in the courtroom-but the prosecutor’s strategy was crystal clear. He was trying to convince the jury that Lindsey had set up Johnson for the murder she’d committed.

Torres said, “Your Honor, it’s an excited utterance by a ten-year-old boy whose father has just been shot in their own home.”

The judge considered it, then said, “I’ll allow it. The witness may answer.”