Right To Die - Jeremiah Healy (5 page)

". . . and regarding class hours, your
attendance and punctuality are not just expected, they are required.
Sufficiently severe absence, especially in a four-week course such as
this one, will be grounds for barring you from the examination.
Effective class participation can raise your grade. Ineffective,
incompetent participation can have the opposite effect. Effective
participation requires preparation of the written materials assigned
for discussion as though you were the lead counsel litigating that
case. You by now have the expectation of being treated like the
budding lawyers you are. Appreciate that I will hold you to the
standard such professionals are expected to attain and maintain."

Every head, male and female, followed Andrus. Each
student had a notebook open and a pen or pencil in hand, but nobody
took notes. No one even smiled or jabbed a neighbor in the ribs. All
were focused on her.

A blocky man in a continental suit and old-fashioned
pompadour had come into 205 with Andrus. Pompadour sat, arms folded
and feet flat on the floor, watching her with the rest of us. Just
occasionally he glanced over at me, seeming not to care if I noticed
him doing it. I bet myself that Pompadour was the house servant Alec
Bacall had called Manolo. If so, Manolo was acting very much like a
bodyguard.

". . . and now, a little warm-up for tomorrow's
session." Andrus swung her head once in an arc of the room, then
pointed to a gawky kid with blond hair. "Male student in the
maroon shirt. Stand, please."

I'd never seen this before. The kid got to his feet.

"Your name?"

"Uh, Dave."

"Your last name."

"Oh, uh, Zimmer."

"Mr. Zimmer, do you believe in the use of
torture to extract information from someone under governmental
control?"

Zimmer blinked.

"Mr. Zimmer?"

"Could you repeat — "

"It's a rather simple question, Mr. Zimmer.
Torture, yes or no'?"

"No. Uh, no, I don't believe in that."

"Why not?"

"Why?"

"W-h-y. Why don't you believe in it?"

"Well, because . . . it's not right."

"Why isn't it right?"

Zimmer took a quick look around the room. No
volunteer sent up a hand to take the heat off him, and I sensed that
none would.

"Mr. Zimmer. Today, please'?"

"Because it's an invasion of the right of a
citizen."

"The right not to be tortured by one's own
government?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why is that an invasion?"

"Yes."

Zimmer seemed to rally a little. "Because the
government's supposed to exist to defend a citizen from invasion of
his rights, not to do — "

"His or her, Mr. Zimmer."

"Excuse me?"

"In this class, if you refer to a person who
hasn't been identified as a man or woman, you will use 'he or she,'
'his or her.' In the real world, you must not run the risk of
offending your audience. This is especially important if the 'person'
involved is a client or an authority figure in the system, like a
judge. Now, Mr. Zimmer, please restate your point."

Zimmer inhaled. "The government's job is to
protect a citizen's rights, not to invade his or her rights itself."

"And, ultimately, why is that, Mr. Zimmer?"

"Why . . . ?"

"Why is it that government is to defend its
citizens from invasion of their rights?"

"Because everybody has the right to life."

"I see." Andrus turned and pointed to a
brunette woman who had squirreled herself in the farthest corner of
the room. "Female student, pink blouse. Stand, please."

Rising, the woman knocked her notebook askew, the pen
rolling off the page and down onto the floor in front of her table.

"Your name, please'?"

The woman seemed to speak to her departed pen.
"Queenan."

Andrus cupped a hand to her ear and said, "I
can't hear you."

The woman lifted her head and boomed a little. "My
name is Queenan."

Andrus nodded. "Ms. Queenan, do you agree or
disagree with Mr. Zimmer's position?"

Hopelessly, Queenan looked at Zimmer, who had folded
his hands in a fig-leaf pose of prayer.

"Ms. Queenan?"

"I agree that a government shouldn't use torture
on its citizens."

"Just its 'citizens,' Ms. Queenan'?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Your rule of no torture would apply only to
protect the citizens of the country involved, not visiting tourists
or resident aliens?"

"No. I mean, yes, the government shouldn't use
torture on anyone."

"On anyone. Mr. Zimmer, agree or disagree."

"Uh, I agree."

"Because you hold human life of any citizenship
sacred, correct?"

"Correct."

"Ms. Queenan?"

"Right. I mean, I agree with that."

"Is that a pretty basic principle for you, Ms.
Queenan'?"

"Basic?"

"Yes, basic. Bedrock belief. The sanctity of
human life above all else."

"Well, yes, I guess so."

"You guess so."

"I mean, yes. Definitely."

"Definitely. Mr. Zimmer, definitely for you
also?"

"Yes."

"Very well, then. Mr. Zimmer, a deranged man has
kidnapped a four-year-old girl from outside a day care center. He has
placed her in a homemade coffin, with only a limited air supply. By
great luck, someone saw the man near the center, and the police have
arrested him. There is no doubt the man in custody is the kidnapper.
He even boasts that the girl has only three hours of air remaining.
You are the highest-ranking police officer available, Mr. Zimmer. Do
you authorize torture to extract from the man the location of the
girl in the coffin'?"

Zimmer looked at Queenan, but she was staring at her
notebook as though it were the Holy Grail.

"Mr. Zimmer, yes or no?"

"No. I'd have my cops search his house and all
first."

"Excellent idea, Mr. Zimmer. Ms. Queenan. same
hypothetical, only now you are the police commander and the search
has come up empty. Any other suggestions. or is it torture?"

"No." Queenan seemed to spark a little,
even copying the rhythm of Andrus' speech pattern. "No, it's
never torture."

"Never."

"That's right."

"You'd never break your rule of no torture."

"That's right."

"And why is that, again?"

"Because human life is sacred."

"All human life."

"Yes."

"Including the little girl's?"

Queenan pondered that.

"Ms. Queenan?"

Zimmer spoke. "That's not fair."

Andrus turned on him, but more excited than angry.
"What's not fair, Mr. Zimmer?"

"You're putting her in an impossible position."

"Am I?"

"Yes. You're asking her to sacrifice her
principle."

"No, I'm not. I've been asking Ms. Queenan, and
you, if you agree with a given rule of society, and then I've been
asking you about the ethic you have that drives that rule, that
justifies it. Both of you seem to think that the no-torture rule
makes sense, and both apparently for the same ethical reason, the
sanctity of human life. Now I'm just asking Ms. Queenan a simple
question. Ms. Queenan, how about it? Is the kidnapper's life more
important than the little girl's?"

"No. I mean, they're equally important."

"Equally," said Andrus. "Let me get
this straight. No doubt that the girl will die from lack of air if
the police don't find her."

"All right."

"And no doubt that the police have the right
man. Both an eyewitness and his own confirming confession."

"Yes."

"But still no torture?"

Queenan looked around the room. For the last few
minutes every head had moved to each player in turn, like a tennis
audience at match point.

Queenan said, "If I use torture, I save this
girl, but I open up a lot of people to torture in the future."

"So you let the girl die."

"I have to. I mean, otherwise I break this rule
and everybody might get tortured."

"Mr. Zimmer. Do you let the girl die?"

Zimmer took a very deep breath. "No."

"No?"

"No. I torture the guy to save her."

"You do? Why?"

"Because she's more innocent than he is. Also,
if I torture him, maybe nobody dies. If I don't, we know she'll die."

"Ms. Queenan, does Mr. Zimmer's new logic
persuade you?"

"No. I mean, no, it's not new logic. Now he's
sacrificing his principle."

"Sacrificing his principle. Mr. Zimmer, are you
doing that?"

"No. If the principle behind the rule is to have
the government protect human life, then torturing him advances that
principle."

"How, Mr. Zimmer?"

"Torturing the kidnapper saves her life without
killing him."

Andrus said, "Ms. Queenan, if you don't save the
girl by torture, haven't you let your rule control the reason or
ethic behind the rule instead of the other way around, instead of the
ethic or reason controlling the rule?"

Queenan shook her head. "I don't know."

"Not acceptable, Ms. Queenan. That answer is not
acceptable in this class. You must always come up with a response to
an opponent's argument. Otherwise, the opponent has won. To close
this hour, let me make an argument you might have made, an argument
I'll be asking several of you to pursue next time. Mr. Zimmer?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Zimmer, what if he dies?"

"What . . . ?"

"What if, in torturing the kidnapper, he has a
heart attack and dies before telling you where the girl is?"

Zimmer opened and closed his mouth twice before
saying, "Then I broke the rule and got nothing for it."

For the first time since she'd left the stage at the
beginning of the class, Andrus returned to the podium. "Did
you'? Or did you, and Ms. Queenan, find yourselves in a conflict
between rule and purpose, between the rule you use to protect society
and the purpose you had in mind in imposing the rule on society to
protect it. These conflicts will arise, and you must learn to reason
them through even if they present unattractive alternatives for
action. We shall see you next time."

Andrus closed her own notes and exited the classroom
immediately. Manolo of the Pompadour jumped up and elbowed a male
student out of the way to follow her.

A black woman sitting next
to Zimmer stood, clapping him on the shoulder. "Hey, Zim. Gonna
be a long season, I'm thinking."

* * *

With the change of class, more students were milling
around in the halls. By the time I found my prospective client's
office, Andrus was nowhere in sight. Manolo was sitting in the
anteroom, next to a desk with a little brass pup tent on it saying
Inés   L. ROJA. Eyes on me and palms on his knees, he pushed
himself to a standing position that blocked access to an inner
doorway behind him. Roja came quickly through the inner door.
stepping between us. Reluctantly, Manolo's face left me to look at
her.

Moving her lips very slowly and using some kind of
sign language, Roja said, "He is here to help the professor."

After watching carefully, Manolo moved his head up
and down once. More a wrenching than a nod, accompanied by an abrupt
hand signal. Simmering, he sat down, again palms to knees. Roja said
to me, "Manolo is very protective of the professor."

"Is he armed?"

"No. But helping her is his purpose in life."

"And every life should have a purpose."

Roja didn't seem sure I wasn't joking. "Yes, I
believe that." She reached to her telephone console and pushed a
button twice. "You may go in now."

I opened the inner door and entered an office that
was awash in papers. Some were stacked haphazardly on tables and
chairs. Other piles had slumped against walls and onto windowsills.
Trapped in a corner was a computer that seemed accessible only by
helicopter. On the desk in front of Maisy Andrus several books peeked
out from a mass of yellow legal pads, pink message slips, and
dog-eared photocopies.

Andrus stood and smiled in a receiving-line way. "Mr.
Cuddy."

"Not 'male detective, gray suit'?"

Shaking hands, the smile went lopsided. "Sit,
please."

Back in her chair, Andrus fixed me with an
interrogation look.