“I have been told that, yes.”
“Do you subscribe to his belief?”
“Yes, I believe it.”
Brice Mack was itching to object on a couple of legitimate grounds. The question assumed a fact not yet in evidence, and it certainly was not proper cross-examination since it went far beyond the scope of his direct examination; still, he restrained the impulse in the hope that Velie would lead the witness up the very channels that had been denied him by Elliot Hoover.
“Can you tell the jury your reasons for believing this to be true?” pursued the district attorney.
“Such occurrences are not uncommon in my land,” the maharishi replied. “Presently working in my ashram is a young student who is the reincarnation of a former student of mine who died in the cholera epidemic of 1936.”
The statement had a magical effect on the jury, Brice Mack noted; they all seemed to lean forward in their chairs in fascination.
The district attorney also noted the surge of sudden interest in the jury and quickly interposed, “Move to strike his answer as not responsive to my question.”
“So moved,” Judge Langley said. “The answer to the last question is stricken from the record, and the jury is instructed to disregard it.”
Scott Velie continued. “Let me repeat, can you tell the jury your reason for believing this—and by ‘this,’ I mean the defendant’s belief that the victim is the reincarnation of his daughter—to be true?”
The maharishi gazed across the courtroom at Elliot Hoover and graced him with a look that bespoke faith and confidence.
“I believe this to be true,” he said simply, “because a man of truth told me it was so.”
“I see,” Velie said, smiling. “Would you believe anything this man of truth told you?”
The maharishi returned the prosecutor’s smile.
“I would believe any truthful thing he told me.”
Judge Langley looked down at Brice Mack. “Any objection from the defense?”
“No objection,” Mack said. “I feel the state should have every opportunity to pursue the subject of reincarnation with the witness.”
“Very well, proceed,” the judge said to Scott Velie.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Velie said, as he pored through his notes and finally found what he was looking for. “Oh, yes, let me ask you, Mr. Pradesh. These trips that astral beings take from a higher plane to a lower one, how are they made?”
The question drew a blank stare from the maharishi.
“Do they fly?” Velie pressed. “Do they have wings?”
“No, they are not as the angels on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel,” replied the maharishi in all seriousness. “Communication and travel from one astral plane to another is accomplished through telepathic means and is faster than the speed of light.”
“Really? Speaking of travel, may I ask how you got here?”
The maharishi’s clear brow furrowed in puzzlement.
“How I got here?”
“Yes, how you came to America?”
“I do not understand—”
“It’s a simple enough question. You certainly didn’t make the trip by telepathic means—”
“No. I was flown in an aircraft.”
“Precisely.” Scott Velie thumbed down his page of notes. “Air India, to be exact. Flight Seventeen, departed Calcutta the evening of December 23, arrived Kennedy Airport on the following afternoon at three thirty-five, which was the day before Christmas. Round trip first-class passage in the amount of two thousand, seven hundred, and twenty-eight dollars and fourteen cents was paid from a special legal account in the defendant’s name at Chase Manhattan Bank, as were all your personal expenses during the past month, which to this date, including your one-hundred-and twenty-dollar-a-day suite at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, come to the tidy figure of six thousand, three hundred, and fifty dollars, or thereabouts.” Velie lifted his eyes from his notes and fixed the witness with a cynical smile. “That’s quite a heap of living for a man who’s turned away from the gross and fleshly tendencies of the material world, wouldn’t you say?”
Brice Mack jumped to his feet, shocked to discover that Elliot Hoover’s bank records had been subpoenaed by the DA’s office.
“Your Honor, I object to this spurious, argumentative, and demeaning attack against the character of the witness. It has never been a secret that the defense paid for the Reverend Pradesh’s trip to America, as well as his expenses while he patiently stood by and awaited his day in court. The comforts provided His Holiness were never a request or condition of the maharishi but the generous gift of the defendant and, as such, are entirely proper, as the district attorney well knows.”
Before Judge Langley had a chance to rule on the defense’s objection, Scott Velie announced, “Your Honor, I will allow that the expenses incurred by Mr. Pradesh, while obviously excessive, may be deemed proper; however, since I was interrupted by defense counsel before the completion of my question, there is one more item that I wish to enter into the record.”
“Very well, continue,” Judge Langley said.
Consulting his notes, Velie dramatically dropped his bombshell.
“It is the item of a check drawn on the legal account of Elliot Hoover in the amount of twenty-five thousand dollars and made payable to Mr. Gupta Pradesh.”
Bill noticed the look of stunned amazement on Brice Mack’s face as he turned and rapidly conferred with his client. The sketch artist’s pen worked furiously to catch the various reactions on paper: Hoover and his attorney huddled in head-to-head colloquy, Judge Langley’s wide-eyed expression, Scott Velie lording triumphantly above the maharishi, whose eyes gazed up at the prosecutor with a serpentine malevolence.
“I now ask you, Mr. Pradesh,” Velie demand, “did you, in fact, receive such a check?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And were you given that check in exchange for your testimony?”
“I object to this line of questioning,” Brice Mack shouted, rising and facing the bench with an expression of helpless innocence. “I had no idea of the passage of money between the defendant and the witness, Your Honor; however, my client informs me that while the check was made in His Holiness’ name, it was specifically earmarked for philanthropic uses of the highest possible order and was never intended for his personal use.”
“Your Honor,” Scott Velie quickly put in, “Mr. Mack is not a witness or under oath, and I asked the question of Mr. Pradesh and not defense counsel; therefore, I move that the defense counsel’s remarks be stricken from the record as improper. It’s immaterial to what uses the money is eventually put. What is material is that a witness for the defense had received payment from the defendant. I submit that twenty-five thousand dollars can buy a lot of cooperation, and that this witness’ testimony has been bought and paid for.”
“Your Honor,” Brice Mack shouted, but was stopped from continuing by a hard hammerblow on the gavel.
“Just a minute,” Judge Langley warned. “I will not grant Mr. Velie’s motion to strike defense counsel’s remarks from the record, but on my own motion I will strike all remarks made by both counsel from the record, and I will instruct the jury to disregard all arguments advanced by both counsel in connection with their opinions as to the reason the witness was given a twenty-five-thousand-dollar check.”
Then, turning to Velie: “If you have any further questions to ask of this witness, do so.”
“I am still waiting for an answer to my last question, Your Honor.”
In the interests of accuracy and saving time, Judge Langley asked the court clerk to read the prosecutor’s question to the witness.