Judge Rabinowitz asked Asher if the defense was ready to close, and he answered, “Yes, Your Honor, we are.”

Like a Thoroughbred into the starting gate, Asher nearly pranced toward the jury box. He put his hand on the railing and-while standing no more than a yard away from the jurors in the front row, close enough for the foreperson to see the comb marks in his hair and the sparkle on his dental veneers-began his summation.

“Folks, I don’t have any notes because Adam Johnson’s defense is as simple and as clear as day.

“He’s not a doctor. He doesn’t know anything about sick people or about medicine. He didn’t know that Dr. Harris was in serious distress.

“Adam Johnson is a handyman.

“Lincoln Harris was a doctor of medicine.

“And, as the medical examiner told you, Lincoln Harris didn’t die from cocaine overdose. He died from cocaine and a self-injected dose of heroin.

“What happened is that those drugs interacted, and that proved fatal. Dr. Harris knew what drugs did to the body, and he took them anyway. For all anyone knows, he intended to die.

“I think Mr. Johnson would agree that if he had it to do again, when he saw that Dr. Harris was ill, he would have immediately called nine one one. He probably would have done everything different that night, but he made some mistakes.

“Yes, he’s guilty of stealing two thousand dollars from a rich boss who had given him his ATM pin number.

“Yes, he’s guilty of giving those drugs to Ms. Wu, a known drug user and a prostitute, and while this is true, it’s a technicality. He wasn’t actually dealing. He used drugs for recreation.

“As for consciousness of guilt, I submit to you folks that my client was just shooting the bull with Ms. Wu when they discussed ‘dumping the body.’

“They didn’t do it, did they?” Asher asked rhetorically. “Mr. Johnson called for an ambulance. The facts are clear. My client didn’t know if Dr. Harris was dying or if he was going to wake up with a bad headache. He’s no genius, but he’s not a bad guy.