"It sounds like a good deal," Larry was saying. "The only thing is, we're not guilty. We didn't kill Catherine."
Frederick Stavros turned on him in a fury. "Who gives a damn whether you're guilty or not?" he shouted. "We're making you a present of your life." He shot a quick glance at Chotas to see if he had reacted to the "we" but the lawyer was listening, his attitude one of aloof neutrality.
"I want you to understand," Chotas said to Stavros, "that I am only advising my client. Your client is free to make his own decision."
"What would have happened to us without this deal?" Larry asked.
"The jury would have--" Frederick Stavros began.
"I want to hear it from him," Larry interrupted, curtly. He turned to Chotas.
"In a trial, Mr. Douglas," Chotas replied, "the most important factor is not innocence or guilt, but the impression of innocence or guilt. There is no absolute truth, there is only the interpretation of truth. In this case it does not matter whether you are innocent of murder, the jury has the impression of guilt. That is what you would have been convicted for, and in the end you would have been just as dead."
Larry looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "OK," he said. "Let's get it over with."
Fifteen minutes later the two defendants stood before the judges' bench. The President of the Court was seated in the center, flanked by the two justices. Napoleon Chotas stood next to Noelle Page and Frederick Stavros stood at the side of Larrv Douglas. The courtroom was charged with an electric tension, for word had flashed about the room that a dramatic development was about to take place. But when it came, it caught everyone completely off guard. In a formal, pedantic voice, as though he had not just made a secret bargain with the three jurists on the bench, Napoleon Chotas said, "Mr. President, Your Honors, my client wishes to change her plea from not guilty to guilty."
The President of the Court leaned back in his chair and stared at Chotas in surprise, as though he were hearing the news for the first time.
He's playing it to the hilt, Noelle thought. He wants to earn his money, or whatever it is Demiris is paying him off with.
The President leaned forward and consulted with the other justices in a flurry of whispers. They nodded and the President looked down at Noelle and said, "Do you wish to change your plea to guilty?"
Noelle nodded and said firmly, "I do."
Frederick Stavros spoke up quickly, as though afraid of being left out of the procedure. "Your Honors, my client wishes to change his plea from not guilty to guilty."
The President turned to regard Larry. "Do you wish to change your plea to guilty?"
Larry glanced at Chotas and then nodded. "Yes."
The President studied the two prisoners, his face grave. "Have your attorneys advised you that under Greek law the penalty for the crime of premeditated murder is execution?"
"Yes, Your Honor." Noelle's voice was strong and clear.
The President turned to look at Larry.
"Yes, sir," he said.
There was another whispered consultation among the judges. The President of the Court turned to Demonides. "Does the Prosecutor for the State have any objections to the change of plea?"
Demonides looked at Chotas a long moment, then said, "None."
Noelle wondered if he were in on the payoff also, or whether he was simply being used as a pawn.
"Very well," the President said. "This Court has no choice but to accept the change of plea." He turned to the jury. "Gentlemen, in view of this new development, you are herewith released from your duties as jurymen. In effect the trial has come to an end. The Court will pass sentence. Thank you for your services and for your cooperation. The Court will recess for two hours."
In the next moment the reporters began to tumble out of the room, racing to their telephones and teletype machines to report the latest sensational development in the murder trial of Noelle Page and Larry Douglas.
Two hours later the courtroom was packed to overflowing as the Court was reconvened. Noelle glanced around the courtroom at the faces of the spectators. They were watching her with expressions of eager expectation, and it was all Noelle could do to keep from laughing aloud at their naivete. These were the common people, the masses, and they really believed that justice was meted out fairly, that under a democracy all men were created equal, that a poor man had the same rights and privileges as a rich man.
"Will the defendants now rise and approach the bench?"
Gracefully Noelle rose to her feet and moved toward the bench, Chotas at her side. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Larry and Stavros stepping forward.
The President of the Court spoke. "This has been a long and difficult trial," he began. "In capital cases where there is a reasonable doubt of guilt, the Court is always inclined to let the accused have the benefit of the doubt. I must admit that in this case we felt that there existed such a doubt. The fact that the State was unable to produce a corpus delicti was a very strong point in favor of the defendants." He turned to look at Napoleon Chotas. "I am sure that the able counsel for the defense is well aware that the Greek Courts have never given the death penalty in a case where a murder has not been definitely proven to have been committed."
A faint sense of unease was beginning to brush Noelle, nothing alarming yet, just the merest whisper, the slightest hint. The President was going on.