YUKI HAD A THOUGHT. It was stark, simple, irrefutable.

  When Junie took the stand in her own defense, she had come across so frail and so helpless, it would be best for Yuki to say, “I have no questions,” get the woman off the stand. Then tear her apart in summation.

  Nicky Gaines passed Yuki a note from Red Dog. She read it as Judge Bendinger snapped the rubber band on his wrist impatiently, then said, “Ms. Castellano? Are you planning to cross?”

  Parisi’s note was short. Three words. “Go get her.”

  Yuki shook her head no, whispered across Gaines to Parisi, “We should take a pass.”

  Parisi scowled, said, “Want me to do it?”

  So much for irrefutable. Red Dog had spoken. Yuki stood, picked up the photocopy of the acknowledgment of rights form, and walked toward the witness stand.

  “Ms. Moon,” Yuki said without preamble, “this is an acknowledgment of rights form. Do you remember it?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “And you can read and write, can’t you?”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Okay, then. This form was presented to you by Sergeant Lindsay Boxer and Inspector Richard Conklin when you were interviewed at the police station on April nineteenth.

  “It says here, ‘Before we ask you any questions you must understand your rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.’ And here’s a set of initials. Are they yours?”

  Junie peered at the document, said, “Yes.”

  Yuki read the entire form, stopping at each point to fire the question at Junie: “Did you understand this? Are these your initials?” Bang, bang, bang.

  And after each question, Junie scrutinized the paper and said, “Yes.”

  “And here at the bottom is a waiver of rights. It ............