The truth be told...

A waiter in a black suit and blue tie advanced gracefully between tables, skillfully avoiding contact with his surroundings. Reaching his destination, he stood proudly in front of Harper’s table.
“May I inquire how was your steak, Sir?”
“It was terrible…”
“I’m sorry Sir.”
“It’s not your fault. I think the chef needs to be replaced.”
“I agree that the food in this restaurant is quite bad… Oh my! I shouldn’t have said anything, please be kind not to mention this to my superiors Sir.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t, I know how it is…”
“Thank you so much Sir! I won’t forget this, probably.”
“Just bring me my check.”
“Right away Sir.”

The waiter glided away, Harper muttering something about British people.
Although a bit on the heavy side, Harper seemed fitter and lighter than most.
As he stood to leave, one could almost feel his presence affecting the room.
He now walked slowly towards the exit, like an alpha lion moving through his tribe.

Approaching the reception desk at the front, the hostess addressed him. “I hope you enjoyed your time here Mr. Connors.”
He continued towards the exit as if not hearing what she said, but before closing the door behind him he replied, “It was awful, I have no idea why I’m coming back here every time” and walked outside never looking back.

Harper continued down the street to the fifty stories high parking lot. As he entered the elevator, a faint whisper, almost unheard, came from the back of his head. “Twenty-two”. He instinctively pressed the button for the twenty-second floor. When the elevator doors opened, a similar whisper guided him to the sixth row where he took a left and found his car.

Turning on the engine, he started thinking about his wife and daughter, maybe he should have invited them to eat with him. No, he needed time alone to think about his new case. He wasn’t sure he could win this time.

Ten minutes into his drive home, taking a route he knew by heart, he suddenly heard a thousand voices screaming from a mile away inside his head. He looked out the window to his right and knew it was too late. The bright lights were coming fast at him. Through the sound of metal thrashing other metal at high speed, the screaming in his head scattered into a million fragments. As his mind fell into darkness, a sharp stabbing pain went through his skull and down his body.

“He’s awake!” A woman’s voice declared, Harper could hear footsteps getting closer.
“Hello, I’m Doctor Tenenboum, how do you feel Mr… Connors?”
The man in the white robe groped and inspected Harper’s head like a ripe melon, as if looking for defects. He peered intently into Harper’s blood-shot eyes.
“My head feels like there’s white static noise inside it, and my neck is killing me.” Harper felt like a delicate piece of ancient art, not moving in order not to break anything.
“A white static noise you say? Heh, I’ve never heard that before… it’s probably the drugs, it should pass soon. I’m happy to inform you that you didn’t break anything and that everything seems to be in place. However, you might have that pain in your neck for a while, I’ll prescribe something for that. Also… there are some people who want to talk with you about the accident, I’ll let them in.”

The doctor signaled the nurse to follow him, leaving Harper alone, trying to remember what happened. Everything was fine. He was driving along, passed a green light and a car crashed into him. Maybe it was a red light. Harper’s chest tightened.

The two men in black suits that entered the room interrupted Harper’s racing mind. Closing the door behind them, they flanked Harper’s bed.
“Mr. Connors?” asked the one on the right.
“Yes,” Harper replied in a hollow robotic tone, unable to get his last thoughts out of his head.
“I’m detective Childers and this is detective Mackey, we’re from the PQD, the Police Questioning Department. We would like to ask you a few questions about last night.”
Harper nodded.
“Mr. Connors, where were you driving from last night?” Detective Mackey took out a small egg shaped device, pointing it towards Harper, a red light appeared as he activated it.
“I was eating dinner at the ‘Ortolan’ restaurant.”
“I see, and did you have anything to drink?”
“Just water and half a glass of wine.”
“Ok, Did you have enough sleep in the last few days?”
“I did.”
“Mr. Connors, do you know what happened to the other car?”
Harper felt that if his chest grew any tighter his ribs would snap.
“No… is the driver ok?”
The two detectives glanced at each other.
“The… family, that was in the other car didn’t make it. The parents and one of the kids died instantly, the other two died from their wounds later at the hospital.”
Harper didn’t answer, either because he didn’t have anything to say or because he couldn’t say anything at all.
“Mr. Connors, what color was the traffic light the time you passed by it?”

Two colors appeared in Harper’s mind. He expected that the one he knew was false would disappear from his mind, leaving him no option but to choose the one he knew was right. And indeed, when he closed his eyes – all he could see was the red traffic light glowing in the dark.
“R…” He started saying and suddenly stopped. Behind all the white static noise, remained another answer. He just wasn’t sure.

He took a deep breath, “It was green.”

This had never happened before. Harper could never tell a lie. No one could. The enhancement chip inserted at birth had several goals. In addition to early diagnosis of disease, enhanced hearing, memory and general performance, it blocked the ability to lie. Harper suffered a panicked thought: He was going to get caught.

Detective Childers looked at detective Mackey, as if waiting for something.
“He’s telling the truth,” Detective Mackey said, returning the egged shaped device to his jacket pocket.
“Well then, no need for further investigation, it was the other driver’s fault. You can go home as soon as the doctors say you’re OK. Oh, and your family is waiting outside. I’m sure they can’t wait to see you. I hope you’ll feel better Mr. Connors.”
Harper nodded while smiling.

He felt something he had never felt before. It wasn’t anger or sadness, nor was it shame. Maybe a mix of them all, he couldn’t decide. Harper was nauseous all over, as if a slimy dark creature was crawling up his stomach.
“Sweetie!” his thoughts were cut off in the middle again, as he saw his wife and daughter running through the door.
“Are you alright? What happened? I heard about the other family. It’s horrible!”
“I’m fine, don’t worry. How’s my little girl?”
“She’s a little frightened I think, but she will be ok. we were so worried!”
Harper’s daughter climbed the bed and hugged him. Harper hugged her, holding her tight and petting her on the back of the head.

During the drive home, traffic and streetlights drifted by Harper’s window. His mind wandered as his wife drove. He saw himself in the middle lane, a motorcycle speeding by on the left, leaving behind a heavy roar. Checking the left mirror, Harper moved into that lane, passing a yellow truck on his right. Nearing home, he pictured his family watching TV, waiting for him. A red light passed by. A RED light. Harper shook his head, now he was sure, the light was red.

Too many thoughts twirled inside Harper’s mind, like a vicious hurricane, pulling everything around him, unwilling to stay in one place. So I actually told a lie, he thought. But the cop and doctor both checked that my chip is working properly, how is this possible? If someone’s chip is damaged, it doesn’t take long to find out about it, and the chip is quickly replaced or fixed. Something very unique is happening here, something that was not supposed to be happening.

Something else was bothering him. For as long as he could remember, he told the truth, and nothing but the truth. How come when he suddenly had a choice, he chose to lie? Or maybe he didn’t really choose. When asked about the light, he didn’t think – he acted. It felt so natural to lie, like an ancient instinct that set loose once the chip stopped working. “Given the chance, are we all naturally born liars? Or is it just me?” he thought to himself.

He recalled reading about lying in a book once. There was a time where you had to listen carefully to what people said, to make sure they’re telling the truth. There were things called pranks and jokes, cheating and forgery. The police actually had to investigate witnesses around a crime scene and the entire court of law worked in a completely different way.

“Were home,” his wife said while pulling the car into the driveway, forcing him once again to return to the real world.
Before she got out of the car, his wife laid her hand on his, looking him in the eyes, “Everything will be ok.”
Harper nodded and smiled.

Sitting in his wide crimson colored couch, Harper gazed at the flames in the fireplace, listening to the crackling of the burning wood.
“Are you coming to bed?” his wife asked, hugging his broad shoulders from behind.
“In a few minutes. I’ll just sit here for a while to think, I have a big case tomorrow.”
“You’re not actually going to work tomorrow, are you?”
“I have to, it’s a case I can’t lose. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
His wife paused for a moment, “Ok sweetie, good night,” she kissed him on the cheek and went towards the bedroom.

Harper couldn’t stop thinking about the accident. Did he do the right thing? Should he turn himself in? If he would have told the cops that the light was red, he could have gone to jail for a long time. He didn’t want to lie, but then again, he didn’t think he had any choice. What about his family? How will they live without a steady income?
The family that was in the other car is already dead, nothing will change that. Would it really help to destroy another family’s life?
No, he can’t tell them the truth, it will only cause harm. The same unfamiliar nauseating feeling from the hospital came over him and weakened all of his body.

~~~

Harper got out of the elevator and walked towards his office. As he got closer to his secretary’s desk, she noticed him. She had a confused look about her, “Mr. Connors, what are you doing here? I heard that you were involved in some kind of accident, are you alright?”
“I’m fine Sherry,” he opened the door to his office and rushed through it.

Sitting in his chair, he started going through all the details of the case he’ll be prosecuting tomorrow. Although still shaken, he was the only one who knew this case inside out, and he didn’t want to take a chance. Also, this particular case hit close to home. Kelly Reading, a twelve years old girl same age as his daughter, was found at Rosewood park laying on the grass at night, after being reported missing for a few hours. Physical exams showed that she was raped, badly. The parents are a wreck. The girl is in a deep coma, no assessment as to if or when she will wake up.
An old lady, Miss. Barbara Williams, called the police, telling them she saw a suspicious red headed guy with a subway maintenance jacket.
Two suspects were found the next morning after information about a red headed male was sent to all the contractors that work for the subway system. One of them said that he didn’t do it and was found telling the truth. The other one didn’t agree to speak, which nowadays automatically suggests that he’s guilty. His name was Mr. Robert Waletzko, white, red hair, age forty-two, has a wife and one son, no relatives, no alibi. The Fifth Amendment protects everyone from self-incrimination. Without a confession, Waletzko remains innocent until proven guilty without a reasonable doubt. But there was plenty reason for doubt as the witness Barbara Williams was fuzzy on details. To make things worse, Mr. Waletzko’s lawyer was as sharp as they come. It’s not going to be easy, and the static white noise in Harper’s head was not going to help.

Next morning Harper still moved at half his usual speed. His muscles tightened up from the accident and his mind was still muddy.  “I’m sorry I’m late!” Harper rushed in to the courtroom, breathing heavily.
“Just sit in your place so we can begin,” the judge said.

The trial started with opening statements from both sides, and continued with forensic reports from experts, providing evidence as to the horrific crime. And then it was time for the elderly Miss Barbara Williams, the sole witness, to step onto the stand.
Waletzko’s lawyer, Billy Marsh, a tall and handsome young man, was standing in front of the stand, staring at Barbara, like a tiger stalking his prey.
Kelly’s parents were sitting behind Harper, leaning on each other. A young, pale, red headed male, Waletzko’s son, sat behind his father. Next to him, sat a middle-aged woman, Waletzko’s wife, biting her nails.
“The witness is ready, the defending lawyer may begin his questioning. Mr. Marsh,” the judge said from his high seat.
He turned on the egged-shaped device, placed it on the stand next to Barbara.
“Thanks you your honor. Ms. Williams, Barbara, may I call you Barbara?”
“Yes you may young man,” Barbara smiled.
“Good good, so Barbara, you stated that you’ve seen a red headed man, wearing a jacket that resembles those of the subway maintenance workers. That man was running away from Rosewood park, the crime scene, leaving a little girl on the grass. And that was around the time that the police suspect the crime was committed. Is that true?”
“Yes it is.”
“Good,” Billy walked between the stand and the jury while speaking, “Is the man you saw sitting with us in this room today?”
“Well I can’t really say, it was dark, I didn’t his face.”
“You didn’t see his face… So you have no idea how that man looks like. It can be any red headed male that found a subway maintenance jacket.”
“I guess so, but the cops tol…”
“Just answer my questions, no need to elaborate,” Billy cut Barbara’s words in the middle. She was no longer smiling.
“Good, now, you said that you saw a red headed male. Yet, you said that it was dark, and it was hard to see. Are you sure, one hundred percent, that the figure you’ve seen was red headed?”

Here he goes using that same old trick confusing that poor old woman, Harper thought to himself. With the advanced lie detection technology available today, it was much easier for the defense lawyer to establish reasonable doubt. Witnesses had to be as precise as a razor’s edge. Every fuzziness in their memory could be revealed and exploited. All this lawyer had to do is dig deep enough into details and the witnesses would eventually break down, not remembering some small detail. This would usually sow the seeds of doubt in the jurors minds. Some judges would stop this line of questioning earlier then others, but this judge didn’t.

The old lady looked a little confused, “Ahhh… one hundred percent? I’m not sure…”
“So you’re not sure that he was red headed?”
“I think so, but I can’t be sure.”
“She can’t be sure… Good, I would like the jury to take notice that Barbara here isn’t even sure that the figure she saw was red headed. I would like to present the court items number four through eight please.”

As Billy finished speaking, five men entered the court, wearing what seem to be company jackets, resembling the subway maintenance one.
“Barbara, can you please point out to the jury which jacket you saw that night.”
Barbara looked at the jackets, still looking confused she replied, “I think it was the one in the middle.”
“Oh, you think? Well, are you sure? I need you to be sure Barbara, it’s a man’s life we’re talking about here.”
“Yes, I’m sure, it was the one in the middle.”
“Let it be known that NONE of these jackets is actually the subway maintenance jacket. Which means, that Barbara, probably got it wrong in the first place. Due to change in the witness testimony I would like to call for a mistrial your honor.”
Loud whispering was heard through out the crowd and between the juries.
“Silence!” the judge tried to quiet everyone. “The court will take a recess in order to discuss this new testimony. We will continue this trial one-week from now at ten AM. Jury dismissed.”

“No! You can’t do that! Tell him something!” Kelly’s mother screamed at Harper from behind.
As Harper walked to the back of the court he saw Waletzko staring at him with a big grin all over him.

~~~

“That SON OF A BITCH!” Harper paced from wall to wall inside his office. “I can’t believe he actually managed to convince the judge to think about a mistrial! And that smartass, red headed fuck! Beyond all his yelling he heard a knock on the door.
“Who is it?”
“Mr. Connors, are you ok? I can hear you screaming from inside the room but there is no one there except you.”
“I’m fine Shelly, just thinking out loud.”
“Oh ok, but there’s a Ms. Reading here to see you. She didn’t make an appointment but she says that you’re in charge of her daughter’s case… Ms. Reading, please be patient! Stop pushing me! I told you that you can’t go in without permission!”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Ms. Reading screamed at Harper as she burst through the office door. “I thought that you are a GOOD lawyer, that you can put that horrible HORRIBLE man behind bars! How, can they even be TALKING about a mistrial?!” She now started crying as she yelled.

“I’m sorry Sir, I couldn’t hold her off.”
“Its ok Shelly, you can go out and close the door, thank you.” Harper laid his hands on the crying lady’s shoulders, “Ms. Reading, I promise you that I’m doing everything that is in my power to send that man to prison. It’s just that he has a really good case… That lady didn’t even recognize the jacket, I mean, we can’t even be sure that they got the right guy.” Harper sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
“No! They got the right guy alright! Look at this, you’ll understand,” she threw a brown paper folder on his desk.

“What is this?” Harper reached for the folder and opened it. He started turning pages restlessly, like a madman, not trusting his eyes. “How did you get this?”
Ms. Reading started to calm down, holding her tears in, “I did a little research of my own. Apparently, all the information the police needs these days are hearing testimonies, instead of actually digging things up. I hired a private detective to find this information, he just sent this to me, you can check it for yourself, but he says everything in there is true.”

Harper sat in his office, alone, with the brown paper folder laying there on his table. This detective found out that Waletzko and his family were on a vacation in a small town where a similar rape occurred. Small girl, same type of wounds. How could the police have missed this? Idiots. This was too much to be a coincidence, it had to be Waletzko.

Harper was mad, real mad. He threw the brown folder in the air, making all the pages fly into the air and descend slowly back to the ground. He has to do something, there’s no other choice. He can’t just sit there, while a vicious serial rapist will be released back into the streets. But what can he do?

An idea slowly grew inside his mind. Yes, this will be perfect he thought to himself. All he has to do is tell the cops that he went to the hospital to visit Kelly, and while he was there, she woke up, told him exactly how the rapist looks like and fell back to the coma. He will go to court and testify himself that that’s what happened. Yes, it sounds like a crazy unreal story, but who wouldn’t believe him? He can’t lie.

~~~

Harper was proud of himself. He had to make up a lot of details, as the girls doctor would also be called to the stand to explain why there’s no record of her waking up. He was surprised at how difficult it is to compose a good lie.

Two days later, after his testimony, the jury was left with no choice but to convict Waletzko. It even seemed that they were relieved to do so. Waletzko will not be harming little girls ever again.

~~~

The door opened, Shelly was standing there with an envelope in her hand, “This came in just now.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Shelly handed Harper the envelope and went out of the office.
He opened the envelope, his eyes scanning the letter that was inside. 

A few months earlier, his unexpected win was all over the news – ‘Local prosecutor single handedly convicts serial rapist’. The word hero was mentioned over and over. There was even talk of a political future as a mayoral candidate. And yet, for weeks to come, Harper could not shake out the familiar nausea. And then it gradually started to subside, ever so slowly, until one day he didn’t even notice its not there anymore.

And now, as if someone pressed the rewind button, Harper was sick again.

Dear Mr. Connors,
My name is Josh Waletzko, I’m sure that you recognize my name, just a few months ago I saw you in court, you sent my father into prison.
Let me tell you something, I don’t know how you did this, but I KNOW that you can lie. How do I know? That’s easy, I’m the rapist. My dad is innocent. I convinced that stupid idiot to cover for me so I won’t go to jail. I’m so much smarter than you Harper, you will never be able to catch me!
You screwed up Harper. I raped the little stupid kid, and I WILL rape again. The greatest thing about this is that you helped me escape prison, and you’ll probably burn this letter after you read it, or you may end up there as well.
Please send my regards to Kelly, I will come visit once she gets better!”
Inside the envelope there were enclosed details about Kelly’s rape, details about her mutilations that only the rapist would know. For the first time since he can remember, Harper could not hold his food. He collapsed.

~~~

Harper entered a small room, where Waletzko was waiting for him.
“Just make it quick, you’re after visiting hours,” The guard closed the door behind them.
“Well well, the great Mr. Connors is paying me a visit, to what do I owe this honor?” Waletzko smiled.
Harper handed the letter to Waletzko, who gave it a quick read.
Waletzko’s smile disappeared.
“I need you to tell me where he is Waletzko, I understand you’re trying to protect your son, but he says here that he will rape again, you can’t let that happen.”
“He won’t rape again, he’s a good boy! Where did you get this? What is this?”
“Damn you Waletzko! Your son took your Jacket at night, went to a park and raped a little girl. I know you think that you did the right thing by sacrificing yourself for your son’s future, but you didn’t think he’ll rape again, did you? This changes everything, just tell me where he is so we can prevent any further rapes.”

Waletzko put his hand on his forehead and leaned against the table. He was shaking back and forth for a couple of minutes. Eventually he raised his face, looking straight into Harper’s eyes. His face has transformed, it was cold and resolved.
“Did you really think it through Harper? What about your testimony? You sent me to jail saying that the little girl woke up and talked to you, telling you how I look like. If you will now prove that my son did it, people will know that you lied in your testimony. I don’t know how, but you did. That can’t be good for you.”
Waletzko stood up, and looked straight into Harpers eyes. “So how about this: I’ll tell you where my son is, and you can either go tell the police that I’m innocent and that my son did it. OR, you can just go home, protect yourself, keep lying and let a rapist walk free. Either way, its up to you, I won’t say anything. I’ve already made my sacrifice, now it’s your turn.”

Back in the car, waiting for the light to change green, two thoughts raced in his mind, like bullet trains heading towards each other.
I will get caught and go to prison. A rapist is on the loose. My family will not have a father. My girl may get raped. Burn the letter, no one will find out. Go to the police. Now! Now!

Harper somehow found himself sitting in ‘Ortolan’, with no idea how he got there.

A waiter with a black suit and a blue tie advanced gracefully between the tables, skillfully avoiding any contact with his surroundings. Reaching his destination, he now stood proudly in front of Harper’s table.
“May I inquire how was your steak Sir?”
Harper looked at the latter he got from Josh.
“The truth be told… It was terrible…”


THE END