American Appetites by Joyce Carol Oates

Author:Joyce Carol Oates
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins

THE INDICTMENT

1.

And then he was indicted, after all: Ian McCullough, who had wanted to believe that his destiny, legal and otherwise, was determined for him not by mere men, mortal like himself, and fallible—if not “shrewd,” “manipulative,” “opportunistic”—but by inhuman processes beautifully abstract as the rising and falling of the tides, the clockwork orbiting of planets, the ghostly trajectory of starlight across the void. But of course such thinking was, in the crude but accurate vernacular, bullshit. For the six women and nine men of the Cattaraugus County grand jury, June session, had simply voted to support Samuel S. Lederer’s case against Ian McCullough: had found his narrative account of Glynnis McCullough’s death persuasive. It was that, and nothing more.

And they had voted to indict not on lesser charges of manslaughter, criminally negligent homicide, but on charges of second-degree murder: had signed their names to the “true bill” of indictment, which charged that

On the night of April 23 of this year, within the venue of Cattaraugus County, New York,

Ian J. McCullough,

defendant herein, did commit murder in the second degree in that he caused with force the death of Glynnis McCullough, his wife, thereby taking the life of the aforementioned Glynnis McCullough:

In violation of Section 125:25 of the New York State Statutes.

And so he was arraigned in the Cattaraugus County courthouse another time, before another judge, his case to be sent to the docket of one Chief Superior Court Judge Benedict Harmon, of whom he had never heard, for motions and trial. The defense had fourteen days to file motions and the prosecution fourteen days in which to respond, at which point a date for the trial would be set, very likely in the fall. When Ian McCullough would have, as it’s said, his day in court; when he might be exonerated of the crime lodged against him. When he might be publicly eviscerated, gutted like a fish.

Ian asked the assemblage, “If I were to plead guilty now, would this all come to an end?”

And they looked at him, to a man, as if he were mad. And Ottinger took him hastily aside and spoke with him: What are you saying what on earth do you mean don’t you understand have you no idea for Christ’s sake Ian I’m not even open to pretrial conference for purposes of plea bargaining don’t you know they have no case against you don’t you understand a jury will never vote to convict, and Ian sighed and acquiesced, or must have acquiesced, since the procedure, the talk, legal quibbling, paperwork, continued. It was lengthy and exhausting. His jaws ached from yawning. He thought, How could Glynnis have done this to me! I will grow to hate her, yet.

He thought, If I am guilty, I am guilty.

He thought, I will not lift a finger to defend myself. I will not play their contemptible game.

THIS TIME THEY were waiting for him; this time he could not contrive to elude them, reporters, photographers, “media” people with handheld cameras and microphones jostling close, shouting questions at him: Dr.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.