61

Somebody’s watched a few too many Survivor episodes, Finney thought. To him, this ceremony felt like a cheap imitation of the grandfather of all reality shows.

Finney was the second contestant to march into the courtroom to render his verdict. He walked solemnly from the back door to the podium at the front, just as McCormack had directed. He stood there for a few seconds facing Judge Javitts. “Remember,” McCormack had said, “everything should be done deliberately, as if you’re moving in slow motion. That way we can build the drama when we add in the sound track.”

“Does the contestant have a verdict?” Javitts asked.

“I do.”

“Cut!” McCormack said. “Judge Finney, you’ve got to give us some time to change shots. You practically walked on Javitts’s question that time.” McCormack conferred with his cameramen. “Let’s try that again, Judge. This time, count to three before you answer.”

“Three Mississippi or one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three?”

“Take two,” McCormack said.

Javitts asked the question again, and Finney waited for three Mississippis. “I do.”

“What say you?” Javitts asked. Finney counted to three again, just to be safe. But then he coughed.

“Cut!”

On the third take, he got it right. “I voted for myself and Victoria Kline,” Finney said.

“What is your basis for voting for yourself?” Javitts asked. To Finney, the question sounded stupid. But Javitts wore his most solemn expression yet.

“On the basis that my faith is true, it’s survived the trials of these past two weeks, and plus, I’m one heckuva guy.”

It looked like Javitts almost smiled at that one. “And what is your basis for voting for Dr. Kline?”

“On the basis that she’s the only other contestant who would go sailing with me,” Finney said.

“C’mon,” McCormack growled, and the cameras stopped rolling. “This is supposed to be a serious climax to the past two weeks of Faith on Trial, Judge Finney. The Last Comic Standing is another network. This is a jury verdict of you and your peers. And jury verdicts have to have some basis in reason.”

“I can tell you haven’t handled many jury trials,” Finney said. And this time Javitts did smile.

“Just put your ballot in the box on the judge’s dais and let’s get to the next contestant,” McCormack said in frustration.

Finney began walking forward.

“Not yet,” Javitts snapped. “We need to at least get this part on camera.”

After the melodramatic filming of each contestant’s verdict, all were ushered into the courtroom for the announcement of results. Tammy Dietz, whom Finney hadn’t seen around much lately, delivered a spiel about the procedures employed to select the finalists. It took her only two takes to get it right, and Finney wanted to applaud.

“All rise!” the court clerk called after Tammy stepped aside. “The Honorable Howard D. Javitts presiding.”

“You may be seated,” Javitts said.

Finney coughed as the contestants took their seats, the sound lost in the shuffle. He felt his heart pounding against his chest. It had been a while since he was on the receiving end of a verdict. He really wanted to make the finals, despite the possibility that the finalists might face danger. For one thing, he assumed that the Feds would be arriving soon. But even if they didn’t, he now had a backup plan.

Javitts cleared his throat and surveyed the courtroom with all the gravitas of a real judge. “As Ms. Dietz explained, I will first announce the finalist I have selected. That will be followed by an announcement of the person the contestants have chosen as the second finalist.”

Javitts referred to some notes in front of him. “This is a tough decision. Getting to know the contestants these past two weeks has been a highly rewarding experience. I have developed a deep admiration for each of them. However, I may only award my verdict to one.”

Javitts shifted his eyes from the cameras to Dr. Kline, and Finney took that as a bad sign. But then Finney realized that he was doing exactly what he told lawyers not to do—guess a verdict based on who the judge or jury looks at. Finney himself always looked at the losing party to see how they reacted, since that usually told him whether or not the verdict was correct.

“Mr. Hadji and Judge Finney, though they presented excellent cases, treated this experience with an attitude that struck this court as being too cavalier and nonchalant for such an important matter. Issues of faith are matters of extreme seriousness and should be treated as such.”

Finney felt the gut punch of a statement made from the bench that he would have no opportunity to rebut. He wondered how many times he had made others feel the same way.

“As for Dr. Kline,” Javitts continued, “she also presented an excellent case, with a high degree of professionalism. But where does her argument lead? To no god at all—modern man with both feet planted firmly in the air. I just cannot believe that this entire universe was caused by nothing.”

Finney glanced at Victoria Kline. Her expression gave nothing away.

“Dr. Ando presented himself with great dignity, and his personal character gave his arguments tremendous weight. He has shown supernatural courage and peace in the face of suffering.

“But it was the unrelenting passion of Mr. Hasaan that impressed this court most. I am not necessarily saying that his religion is true and the others false. But I am saying that there can be no doubt about what he believes or about his devotion to his faith. At the end of the day, that’s what this judge was looking for.

“Accordingly, I render the court’s verdict for Mr. Hasaan.”

Finney reached over and shook his friend’s hand. Surprisingly, it was cold and clammy. “You can smile now,” Finney whispered, trying to deal with his own disappointment. But Hasaan kept a straight face, though his eyes glistened with tears.

“As for the contestants,” Javitts continued, “they see things differently. Their verdict, in a very close contest . . .” Javitts waited and Finney tensed. It was probably three seconds, but it felt more like three years.

“. . . is for Judge Finney.”

Finney blew out a deep breath and felt gratitude flood his body. He was not, by nature, an emotional man. But now the feelings welled up without warning, a mixture of relief and exuberance and gratefulness. “Thank You, Jesus,” he said softly enough so that nobody else could hear. Kareem shook his hand, and the others mouthed their congratulations. In that moment, all Finney could think about was the respect he had for the other contestants and how honored he was to have their verdict.

The rest of the courtroom session was a blur. Flush with victory, Finney pushed aside his concerns about the danger awaiting the finalists. It was Hadji who brought it back to the forefront as the Hindu gave Finney a hug after the session had ended.

“Be careful, my brother,” Hadji whispered in his ear.