Defending Jacob

by William Landay

“Is anyone talking to Jacob?” “You mean my son Jacob?” “Yeah.” “Of course.” “Okay.” “Why do you say that?” “No reason.” “There must be a reason. What is it, Sarah?” The girl studied her lap. “The cop who came to our class said we could tell you things anonymously?”

Patz did it because Jacob did not. But the illogic was not apparent to me then. I was the boy’s father. And the fact is, I was right to suspect Patz.

Laurie was so determined to help Jacob, she nearly hung him.

This is an aspect of crime stories I never fully appreciated until I became one: it is so ruinously expensive to mount a defense that, innocent or guilty, the accusation is itself a devastating punishment. Every defendant pays a price.