Hester never had.
“If the jury comes back deadlocked,” Oren said, “do you think they’ll prosecute him again?”
“Who knows.”
She sat on the couch. Oren poured her some wine. She was tired. That never happened to her before, but more and more, she could feel a certain heaviness in her bones.
“When this is over,” she said, “I want to take a vacation.”
Oren lifted an eyebrow. “You?”
“Where should we go?”
“Wherever you want, my love.”
“I used to hate vacations,” Hester said.
“I know.”
“Work never tired me. It energized me. The more I was in the mix, the more alive I felt. When Ira and I would go away, I’d end up feeling more exhausted. I’d get antsy. If I sat on a beach chair, I wouldn’t get energized—I’d want a nap.”
“An object at rest,” Oren said, “stays at rest.”
“Exactly. If you slow me down, I slow down. If you keep me moving…”
“And now?”
“Now I want to go away with you. I’m tired.”
“Any clue why?”
“I don’t even want to think about it, but it might be age.”
Oren didn’t reply to that right away. He took a sip of the wine and said, “Maybe it’s the Levine case.”
“How’s that?”
“Historically you’ve never been a fan of self-defense cases. I know it’s your job to offer the best defense possible, truth be damned—”
“Whoa, slow down. Truth be damned?”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean you have to leave your personal feelings out of it. You need to provide the best defense possible, no matter what your personal feelings.”
“What makes you think I’m not doing that with Richard Levine?”
“He executed a man,” Oren said. “We both know that.”
“He shot a Nazi.”
“Who was not an imminent threat.”
“Nazis are always an imminent threat.”
“So you’re okay with what he did?”
“Yes, of course.”
“It’s okay to shoot a Nazi,” Oren said.
“Yes.”
“How about a Klansman?”
“Also okay.”
“Where are you drawing the line at who you get to shoot?”
“At Nazis and Klansmen.”
“No one else?”
“I’d prefer they get punched. I’m a big fan of punching Nazis in the face.”
“Your client didn’t punch the Nazi in the face.”
“No, but if he had, he’d have been arrested too, and I’d still be defending him. If your sicko-psycho personal beliefs include exterminating those who are not of your race, I’m okay with someone putting you down like the horrid creature you are.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“So maybe we should change the laws, make it clear that it’s open season on Nazis and Klansmen.”
“You’re cute when you try to debate me,” Hester said. “But no, that’s not what I’m suggesting. I’m okay with how the laws are written now.”
“But the laws don’t allow for what Richard Levine did.”
Hester tilted her head to the right. “But don’t they? We’ll see, I guess. The current system may indeed work and set my client free. The current system may have the elasticity to stretch and make this right.”
“And if it doesn’t? If the jury comes back with a guilty verdict?”
Hester shrugged. “Then the system has spoken.”
“So the system is always right?”
“No, the system may not be as elastic as I think it should be. At least, not with this jury. Not with the defense I made. I believe in the system. I also believe it’s okay to kill Nazis. Why do you keep thinking those are contradictory?”
He smiled. “I love your brain, you know.”
“I love yours too, though not as much as your bod.”
“As it should be,” Oren said.
She rested her head on his chest. “So where should we go on vacation?”
“The Caribbean,” Oren said.
“You like the warm weather?”
“I like the idea of you in a bikini.”
“Fresh.” Hester couldn’t help but blush. “I haven’t worn a bikini since the end of the Carter Administration.”
“Another victim of Reaganomics,” Oren said.