Cactus Island, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 8

CHAPTER 33

  BRILLIANCE OR BLUNDER

  The first ray of light into my motel room awakened me from a shallow slumber. I'd been periodically waking to look at the clock since 4:00 a.m. No need for a wake-up call today. Steven's trial was just a few hours away and there was nothing I could do now but let fate take its course. There was no time to analyze evidence, seek out new witnesses, or research salient points of law. It was game day, ready or not.

  A hot shower had always been my ritual on the opening day of a trial. There was nothing like it to relax me and clear my head before I faced the day. After putting on my suit and gathering my things together I sat down and called Rebekah. I wanted to be sure she and the kids were okay, of course, but I also needed all the encouragement I could get. She came through as usual and I left the motel feeling fresh and confident.

  Paula seemed a little nervous and out of sorts when I picked her up to go to breakfast. She said she hadn't slept well either. After we had eaten breakfast and were enjoying one last cup of coffee she asked me about our jury strategy. "If I'm going to be of any help in picking the jury," she said, "I need to know what our defense strategy is."

  That made sense, but I was still reluctant to divulge this information even to Paula. "I don't think it's going to matter that much who's on the jury," I said casually.

  "What? That's crazy. Of course it's going to make a difference. People have prejudices—racial, economic, social—you've got to find out what drives each juror. You don't want someone on there who is obviously going to be against you."

  "Well, I'm not sure in five minutes of questioning that much could be determined about a juror anyway. It's all pretty much a guessing game. I know a lot of people spend thousands of dollars on jury consultants, but personally I think it's a waste of money. I'd take your gut instinct over a jury consultant anytime."

  "Well, I'm flattered you think so highly of my instincts, but I don't think you're being very realistic."

  "Nevertheless, just pick me a jury of good honest citizens who don't have any hidden agendas, okay?"

  Paula shook her head. "Whatever."

  As we left the diner and began our short walk across the city square to the courthouse, a swarm of reporters surrounded us. "Mr. Turner. There's a story in the Globe Inquirer that you've listed a Mr. X on your witness list."

  "Mr. X?" I chuckled.

  "Yes, rumor has it that Mr. X is . . . well . . . an alien who was left behind by the mother ship."

  Paula laughed. I smiled and shook my head. "No. I don't know of any Mr. X, sorry."

  "What about Professor Walston from UTD? Is it true he has confirmed an alien landing?"

  Did this reporter know something or was he just fishing? I hadn't heard from Professor Walston for several weeks. He'd sent some students out to Cactus Island to inspect the crater, take pictures, and gather more samples. The last time I had talked to him he indicated he couldn't explain how the crater was formed or the condition of the surface soil. When I asked him if he would testify as to what he'd found, he seemed reluctant, but said he would if it were critical to Steven's defense. I understood where he was coming from. He didn't want to risk the ridicule of his colleagues at the university by supporting our alien landing theory.

  "Sorry, I can't comment on a witness' testimony," I replied.

  Another reporter asked, "Do you think with this circus atmosphere that Steven Caldwell can get a fair trial?"

  I turned and looked at the reporter who asked the question. I thought for a moment and replied, "Sure he can. It may be a circus out here, but inside that courtroom it will be just like any other trial. Twelve good men and women will weigh the evidence and render a verdict, and that's good enough for me."

  More questions were thrown at us, but this was no time for a news conference so I held up my hand. "Sorry, we don't have time to answer any more questions. We've got to get inside and pick a jury. We'll be happy to talk to you later."

  A couple of sheriff's deputies came over to our rescue. They cleared a path, escorted us across the street to the courthouse, and showed us a private staircase that led to the upper floor where the courtroom was located. Carla Simms and her assistant were setting up at the prosecution table. We made our way to the defense table and set down our briefcases.

  "I'll go get the jury list," Paula said and walked back toward the court coordinator's office. A few moments later she came back with a stack of seventy-two juror questionnaires with basic information on each juror. From these we'd be picking twelve jurors and three alternates. Paula immediately began studying each questionnaire and jotting down notes.

  As she was working, I began unpacking my briefcase and surveying my surroundings. This was an old courtroom dating back to the 1920s and was much more dramatic than the modern courtrooms that were now being built in Dallas. The gallery took up approximately two-thirds of the room and there were three sections of wooden seats. The bench and counsel tables were separated from the gallery by an ornate wooden barrier about three feet high. The court reporter sat to our left and the witness stand was on our right. The judge's bench was dark oak and quite elegant looking.

  By nine the courtroom was packed with spectators. The first three rows of the gallery had been roped off for the jury panel. Paula and I were discussing potential jurors when the bailiff yelled, "All rise for the Honorable Andrew P. Applegate."

  Everyone got to their feet as the judge appeared, walked briskly to the bench, and took his seat. He shuffled through some papers, made a note in the file, and then looked up. "All right. Be seated. This is case number 90-0321, the State of Texas V. Steven Caldwell. The bailiff will please bring in the defendant."

  The bailiff stepped into the back hall a moment and then reappeared with Steven at his side. He pointed to the defense table and Stephen came over and sat down. He looked tired and scared. Paula smiled at him and gave him a hug. "Can I have appearances?" the Judge asked.

  Carla Simms stood up. "Carla Simms for the prosecution," Your Honor.

  I stood up. "Stan Turner for the defense, Your Honor."

  The judge looked at the bailiff. "Bring in the jury panel."

  The bailiff nodded and went to a side door and opened it. He stepped inside and a moment later prospective jurors began filing in. They were directed to the empty rows in the gallery where they took their seats. After they were seated, the judge explained to them why they were there and what their role would be if they were selected as jurors. He then told them how the voir dire would work. After he had concluded his remarks he said, "Ms. Simms, you may begin your voir dire."

  Simms stood up, introduced herself, and identified everyone in the courtroom by name. She asked if any of the jurors knew any of us. Nobody raised their hands so she began telling them briefly about the case, supposedly the undisputed facts, so the jury panel would know enough about the case to field questions designed to elicit how they would perform as jurors. Some prosecutors abused voir dire by misstating the facts or drawing conclusions from them. I hoped Simms wouldn't do that.

  Simms walked in front of the gallery, faced the prospective jurors, and begun. "On Monday, September 10, 1990," she began. "Steven Caldwell and Jimmy Falk were at Camp Comfort, a Boy Scout camp located at Possum Kingdom Lake. They were working on preparations for the evening meal when they discovered they needed some supplies. Steven Caldwell offered to drive to get what was needed and he asked Jimmy Falk to go with him. They took the camp Jeep to drive into town which was located about five miles away. To get there they had to travel on a winding mountain road."

  Simms' eyes jumped from one juror to another. Eye contact was important in trying to develop a rapport with the jury. Simms had been well trained and the jury seemed to be listening to her intently as she continued. "On the way back from town it was getting dark. It began to rain as a line of thunderstorms was crossing the lake. Despite the rain and strong winds, Steven took the road at a high rate of speed. As he was taking the last curve before the entry
to Camp Comfort, the Jeep suddenly, and without warning, went off the road, fell down the mountainside into the lake, and exploded into a fiery inferno with Jimmy Falk still strapped in his seatbelt.

  "Sometime later Steven was found dazed but alive on the side of the road where the Jeep had left the roadway. Jimmy Falk's charred remains were later found still strapped into the front seat of the Jeep. When the motorist who found Steven questioned him as to what had happened, he told her he had been distracted by a spaceship that had suddenly appeared overhead."

  One of the panel members snickered and there was laughter in the gallery. The judge banged his gavel and demanded order. Simms smiled at the panel member who had interrupted her and jotted something down on a notepad she had with her. She looked up and continued. "Now, I know the facts I have given you are sketchy, but unfortunately there are no eye witnesses to what happened. These are the undisputed facts and from these facts and the evidence produced at trial you will have to determine the defendant's guilt or innocence.

  "Now we, the prosecution, contend that this was no accident but actually an elaborate plot to murder Jimmy Falk. You see Steven Caldwell and Jimmy Falk had one thing in common. They both loved a pretty, young girl named Susan Weber.

  "The defense will claim that this was nothing but a tragic accident and that there was no animosity between Steven Caldwell and Jimmy Falk, or certainly not enough to drive him to murder.

  "These are the facts, and the issues that you will have to deal with. Now I have to ask you some questions to be sure you can serve as fair and impartial jurors. When I am done, Mr. Turner will have some questions as well. It's important that you be as honest and responsive as possible so that we can be sure that you don't have any preconceptions about this case."

  Simms asked again if any of the jurors knew the plaintiff or defendant or were related to them in any way. She then went through the witness list and asked if anyone knew any of the witnesses. Next she asked if anyone had ever seen a spaceship over Possum Kingdom Lake. There was more snickering and then someone yelled, "Shut up!"

  "Screw you!" another voice replied. Two men began to scuffle in the back of the courtroom. The judge banged his gavel and demanded order. The bailiff walked quickly their way to put an end to the ruckus. Both men were escorted out of the courtroom. The judge shook his head in anger. "Any more outbursts," he said, "and I'll clear the courtroom."

  Simms waited for things to quiet down and then continued, "Another question I must ask is whether you've read about this case in the newspaper, the tabloids or watched the news reports on TV. If you have, raise your hand."

  All hands went up.

  "Well, that's what I expected. Is there anyone who's been so influenced by these news stories that you've already made up your mind as to Steven Caldwell's guilt or innocence?"

  Three jurors raised their hands. Simms looked down at her notes and then addressed a Hispanic woman who had raised her hand. "Mrs. Lopez. I take it you have been following this case pretty closely in the papers and on TV?"

  The lady nodded. "Yes."

  "And you've already made up your mind on Mr. Caldwell's guilt or innocence."

  "Yes, he must be guilty. Why else would he come up with such a story?"

  "You mean about seeing a spaceship?"

  "Yes, anyone with half a brain knows there is no such thing."

  "You don't think you could listen to the testimony and consider the evidence that is presented with an open mind?"

  "Sure, I can listen, but there are no spaceships flying around the lake. Everyone knows that."

  Simms nodded and looked down at her notes again. Paula put a big check mark by Lopez's name to denote she was a likely strike. After a moment, Simms addressed a middle-aged black man. "Mr. Morris. I noticed you raised your hand indicating you'd made up your mind already in this case."

  "Yes, I have. I believe. I believe Steven saw the spaceship."

  The courtroom erupted in chants of "I believe! I believe!"

  The judge pounded his gavel and glowered at the gallery. "Stop that! Stop that now!" he growled. "I'll not tolerate cheerleading in this courtroom. This is not a football game. Keep your emotions to yourselves."

  Simms scratched her head and looked at the judge for permission to continue. The judge nodded. "Mr. Morris. You believe Mr. Caldwell saw a spaceship and that caused him to lose control of the Jeep?"

  "Yes, I do. . . . I believe!"

  "Amen, brother," yelled someone in the gallery.

  The judge pointed to the man. "Bailiff, escort that man out of the courtroom and hold him for contempt of court." The bailiff walked over and yanked the man out of his seat. The judge looked around the gallery. "Anyone else want accommodations compliments of the county sheriff?"

  Nobody responded, so the judge nodded again at Simms. "So, you don't think you could sit back and listen to what the witnesses have to say and follow the judge's instructions?"

  "No. Like I said. I know they are out there and I really believe Steven Caldwell saw their ship."

  Simms rolled her eyes and then looked back at her notes. She addressed a short blond woman next. "Miss Warner. You raised you hand. Do you have an opinion as to Mr. Caldwell's guilt or innocence at this time?"

  "Yes. Many people saw the spaceship just a few days after Steven saw it, so he obviously didn't make it up," she said.

  "Well, if the judge instructed you that what other people might have seen at a different time and place was irrelevant and not to be considered, would you honor the judge's instructions?"

  "How could I ignore what hundreds of people saw?"

  "The court will instruct you that you can only consider evidence introduced at trial by myself or Mr. Turner. Are you saying you couldn't obey that instruction?"

  "Well, I'm not sure."

  Simms shook her head and wrote something in her notebook. She then continued. Her questioning lingered on for two solid days as she questioned each juror thoroughly about their background, employment, hobbies, activities, and personal beliefs. Although it was arguably necessary to uncover any bias or prejudice a juror might have, it was very tedious and I saw more than one of the prospective jurors doze off. When Simms was finally done Wednesday morning, the judge recessed the case for lunch and advised me that I could question the jury panel when we returned.

  Paula wanted to work through the lunch hour going over what we had learned about every person on the jury panel. I told her I already knew more than I wanted to know about the jury pool. She protested but when I didn't back down, she handed me a list. "These are the people who I seriously doubt will ever believe Steven's story. They are all well educated professionals or scientific types who are going to require actual proof of the alien flyby in order to vote in favor of Steven's acquittal."

  "Okay, great," I said.

  Paula handed me a second list of names and said, "These are the ones who would most likely be sympathetic to Steven. They include the very young jurors who are into science fiction and fantasy, workers, laborers, and anyone associated with the tourism industry. We need to get as many of these people on the jury as possible."

  "See," I said, "You've already got it figured out. Let's get some lunch."

  At lunch we ran into Lauren Swanson. She said she was watching the trial on one of the closed circuit TVs located in the basement of the courthouse. She reiterated her invitation for me and Paula to stay at her place during the trial. We thanked her, but said we didn't want to impose on her. I wondered if she knew what her husband had done. She acted like a high school girl before the prom, all excited about the trial and the media covering the trial. In my mind's eye I could see her putting a plaque on the wall—Convicted murderer Steven Caldwell slept in this room on October 3, 1990.

  After lunch the judge turned over the jury panel to me. This was my chance to score some serious points with the jury. I knew they were sick and tired of being interrogated and I frankly couldn't think of a question that Simms hadn't already ask
ed. It was time to end this and get on with the trial. I said, "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury. I want to thank each and every one of you for your patience these last few days. I know Ms. Simms has asked a lot of questions and pried mercilessly into your private affairs. Let me assure you that the intrusion is over." One of the jurors started clapping and the others laughed in response.

  "Seriously, I've watched and listened these past few days to all of the questions and your responses, and I feel I've really gotten to know all of you very well. And I want you to know that I don't have a problem with any one of you. I think each and every one of you would make an excellent juror. Therefore, I have no questions."

  There were many smiles amongst the prospective jurors and a general sense of relief swept over them. As I was walking back to my seat Simms was sneering at me and Paula looked like she was in shock.

  The judge shrugged. "Very well, please make your strikes."

  Paula put the jury list in front of me and said, "Okay, who gets the axe?"

  I looked at her. "Didn't you hear what I said? Nobody."

  "Nobody? Are you nuts?"

  A jolt of fear shot through me. Paula rarely questioned my judgement. The muscles in my neck and shoulders began to ache and my pulse quickened. Was I doing the right thing? My gut feeling was yes, but obviously Paula didn't think so. Should I give in and make the strikes? . . . No! I couldn't. It was too late. I'd lose face with the jurors. There was no going back now.

  "Maybe I am crazy," I replied, "but as I said, I like all the jurors."

  Paula shook her head and sat down. Steven looked at her and she shrugged. The bailiff collected the juror lists and took them to the judge. After a moment the judge looked up."Mr. Turner. Where are your strikes?"

  I stood up. "We have none, Your Honor. This is a fine-looking jury panel. I'd be proud to have any of these folks on the jury."

  The judge mumbled something to himself. "Very well, then. The following persons will take a seat in the jury box."

  The judge read the names of the jury members and three alternates and each took a seat. Then he excused the remainder of the jury panel, and the bailiff allowed spectators to fill in the vacant seats in the front of the courtroom. When all that was done the trial began with the reading of the indictment. At 2:30 p.m. Carla Simms stood before the jury box and gave her opening statement.

   "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Thank you for bearing with me during the voir dire. I know it must have seemed like I was unnecessarily prying into your affairs, but that wasn't it at all. It's my duty to be sure that each of you can be fair and impartial jurors. Since I don't know any of you, the only way I can do my job is to ask a lot of questions. So, if I have offended anyone, I apologize. That wasn't my intent." Simms took a deep breath and then smiled. "Anyway, now the housekeeping is done we can move onto the job at hand—that is to determine whether or not Steven Caldwell is guilty of murder on account of the death of Jimmy Falk on September 10, 1990."

  Simms paced a few steps to her left, stopped, and then faced the jury with a very serious look on her face. "As the judge told you, the prosecution has the burden of proof. That means we must prove beyond all reasonable doubt that Steven Caldwell intentionally or knowingly caused the death of Jimmy Falk. We intend to meet that burden by calling a number of friends and acquaintances of Steven Caldwell and Jimmy Falk who will testify that Steven was in love with Susan Weber, that they had talked of marriage, and that he was devastated when Jimmy Falk stole Susan away from him. These witnesses will testify to Steven's unwillingness to accept the loss of Susan and his obsession with getting Susan back at any cost.

  "We will call other witnesses such as Steven's scoutmaster Roger Dickens; Sylvia Bassett, the woman who found Steven on the side of the road; Freeman Fry, the first sheriff's deputy on the scene; and detective Ben Swenson who will testify as to the sequence of events of September 10, 1990 which led to the death of Jimmy Falk."

  Simms looked over at me. "Now the defense will be cross examining our witnesses and calling their own witnesses trying to show that this was all just a tragic accident caused by an alien spaceship on its way to Cactus Island where it supposedly was going to land. We all know this is nonsense, but unfortunately there are a lot of people in this country who believe or want to believe that intelligent life does exist in outer space, so they will be using this trial to validate their beliefs. But we cannot let these people take this trial hostage."

  There was an audible sigh from the gallery. The judge looked up and glared at the person responsible. Steven looked at me and smiled.

  "You as jurors cannot abrogate nor delegate your responsibilities as jurors in this case," Simms said. "Only you can determine Steven Caldwell's guilt or innocence. It doesn't matter what the people out front picketing, or those out on the lake, or in the campsites think. Only the twelve of you have the right and the duty to decide whether Steven Caldwell will be set free or go to jail for five to ninety-nine years, which is the punishment for murder in the State of Texas.

  "Now during the course of this trial you're going to hear what a fine young man Steven Caldwell is and that his record and accomplishments are exemplary. We don't dispute that, but leading a perfect life doesn't give a person the right to commit one heinous crime. In this instance, we will show that Steven Caldwell, due to his jealousy and rage over Jimmy Falk taking his true love, made a conscious decision to cause Jimmy Falk's death. Once he made that decision he then diligently began planning and plotting how to accomplish that ill deed without getting caught.

  "I must say his scheme was brilliant. Steven knew Jimmy couldn't survive the Jeep plummeting down the mountainside particularly if his seatbelt was jammed. He knew that if he jumped out just as the Jeep left the roadway he wouldn't be seriously hurt but it would make it appear as an accident. Don't be fooled. Steven Caldwell is a very clever young man. You will find out that he's an amateur magician and very knowledgeable about how magicians fool their audiences. One of their techniques is distraction. That is why Steven Caldwell claimed to have seen a spacecraft. He knew that revelation would be sensational and distract everyone's attention from his crime to the alien encounter.

  "Don't let him manipulate you as jurors. Take a good look at him and see him for what he is—a cold-blooded murderer who must be brought to justice. Thank you."

  Simms sat down.

  "Mr. Turner," the judge asked. "Would you like to make an opening statement?"

  I stood up and replied, "No, Your Honor. I'll reserve my opening statement until we put on our case in chief."

  The judge nodded, "Very well. Ms. Simms, call your first witness."

  Simms stood up. "The state calls Freeman Fry."

  Fry, a sheriff's deputy, took the stand and testified that he was about five miles from the scene of the accident when he got a call from his dispatcher. He said he went to the accident scene and another sheriff's deputy went to the diner. Fry testified that at the accident scene he saw tire tracks running off the road, and when he went to the ledge he saw the partially submerged Jeep burning below. After securing a fire extinguisher from his trunk, he made his way down the mountainside to the Jeep and tried to extinguish the flames. Unfortunately, the fire was too intense and he was unable to put it out. A couple minutes later the fire department arrived and extinguished the fire. That's when they found Jimmy's body, or what was left of it.

  When Simms was finished with Fry, I cross examined him but there wasn't much I could challenge about his testimony. He saw what he saw. I did have two questions that hadn't been addressed.

  "When you got to the Jeep was Jimmy's seatbelt still fastened?"

  "Yes, it was."

  "Did you examine the seatbelt?"

  "Yes."

  "Did it appear to be working properly?"

  "Well, it was damaged and we had difficulty getting it to unfasten."

  "So, you couldn't get it unfastened, perhaps Jimmy couldn't either."

  "Well, that depends on
when it was damaged. I believe it was jammed from the accident."

  "But you don't know that for sure?"

  "No."

  "Was it noisy at the accident scene when you got there?"

  "Well, I don't know. What do you mean?"

  "Was there a drilling rig operating near the accident scene?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact there was. Those rigs do make quite a racket."

  "Thank you, Deputy Fry. I have no further questions."

  Simms next called Sylvia Bassett who recounted her discovery of Steven Caldwell lying on the side of the roadway dazed and confused. When she recalled Steven's statement that he had seen a spaceship the gallery buzzed with excitement. The judge banged his gavel and demanded order. Simms asked Bassett if she'd seen the spaceship and she replied she had not, but that there had been reports of UFO sightings at Possum Kingdom lake for years. On cross examination I asked her if she had heard the drilling rig in operation when she found Steven on the side of the road. She said she had not and didn't know there was a drilling rig in the area. After Sylvia Bassett had been excused the judge recessed the case until Thursday morning.

  Unfortunately, we couldn't go out to a restaurant without getting mobbed by the press or tourists, so we ordered Chinese to be delivered to our motel room. Paul, Jodie, Paula and I were enjoying our fare when the evening news came on. Of course our trial was the lead story and Amy Tan was on the courthouse steps with the report.

  The news anchor said, "Will Rogers once said, 'I've never met a man I didn't like.' Today, Stan Turner said he's never met a juror he didn't like—or at least in Palo Pinto County. Amy Tan is in Palo Pinto County to tell us about that surprising story."

  "Yes," Amy Tan said, "I've been following the Steven Caldwell murder trial here at the Palo Pinto County Courthouse in Palo Pinto, Texas. The trial is in recess after a jury was finally seated, Assistant District Attorney Carla Simms made her opening statement, and testimony began. The most shocking event of the day was defense counsel Stan Turner's apparent attempt to win favor with the jury by cutting short what had been two and a half days of grueling voir dire conducted by Carla Simms. Turner told the judge he was quite happy with the jury panel and wouldn't subject them to any more questions. In fact, when the Judge asked for the six strikes each side was allowed, Turner didn't have any, stating again there wasn't a jury member on the panel he didn't like.

  "Whereas the jury seemed to appreciate Turner's sensitivity and belief in them, many courthouse observers are questioning Turner's strategy. They say failing to remove the panel members who were obviously not likely to be sympathetic to Caldwell's defense was brash, dangerous, and bordering on malpractice.

  "As far as the testimony we heard today, there wasn't much brought up that we didn't already know. Sheriff's deputy Freeman Fry testified that he arrived on the scene and seeing the Jeep on fire tried to extinguish it. Turner on cross examination honed in on the fact that Jimmy Falk's seatbelt may have been jammed preventing him from jumping from the vehicle or getting out of it when it caught fire. It was unclear from testimony whether of not the seatbelt was working properly before the accident.

  "Testimony will resume tomorrow at nine when Carla Simms is expected to call the mother of the victim, Barbara Falk. This is Amy Tan reporting from Palo Pinto, Texas."

  Everyone looked at me when the report was over. "Well, if my gamble doesn't pay off, Steven will have a great incompetent counsel argument for appeal."

  "Why did you do that?" Paula said. "I don't understand your thinking."

  "Well, I know you have your theory on what makes a good juror just as Carla Simms has hers. The fact is, nobody really knows who's right. I think that the only thing to be accomplished at voir dire is to get rid of the extremists one way or the other. What I want is just twelve honest, decent people who don't have hidden agendas. After listening to Simms interrogate the jury panel for two and half days I realized there were only three or four prospects on the jury panel who were what I call extremist and they were all UFO nuts who I knew Simms would strike. So, why not use this fact to gain some leverage with the jury?"

  Paula stared at me for a moment and then shook her head. "Well, I hope you're right."

  "Me too," I replied. "If Steven goes to jail because I screwed up, I'll be feeling like shit."

  "Don't worry," Jodie said. "I think everything is going fine. You did a good job today. Just keep it up."

  Jodie's words did little to cheer me. Now I was worried. Had I made a fatal blunder that would ultimately lead to Steven's conviction for murder? It seemed like the right move at the time, but my stomach suddenly was in knots and I had a headache beyond belief. I excused myself and went back to my room to take some aspirin and go over my cross examination questions again. Somehow, I had to get Steven Caldwell off, otherwise he'd get five to ninety-nine years and it would be all my fault. I couldn't live with that. It just wasn't an option.