"The prosecution -" Goddard paused for a few moments, as if out of breath. "The prosecution wishes to state - with the court's permission, of course - that it withdraws all the charges against Lieutenant Ramage."
For a moment there was complete silence in the cabin; a silence in which every one of the seven captains turned to stare at the Admiral, and Syme's spectacles slid almost to the end of his nose.
Even as he jumped to his feet Ramage realized that Goddard had taken the court by surprise; Napier must have kept the contents of the letter to himself.
"Sir, I must protest!" Steady, he told himself; that was too loud, too sharp, too aggressive. "Capital charges have been made against me, and much of the prosecution's supporting evidence has already been given. I submit the prosecution cannot now withdraw the charges without one word of my defence being heard!"
Napier held up his hand. "The court will be cleared. The prosecutor and the prisoner will remain."
As soon as everyone else in the cabin had left, Napier turned to Goddard.
"The court wishes to know your reasons for withdrawing the charges."
Goddard shrugged his shoulders and wiped his lips with a handkerchief.
"The charges were drawn up upon assumptions which have subsequently proved to be incorrect."
"What assumptions?" Napier asked.
"On the assumption that there were no survivors from the Topaz"
"What?" Napier exclaimed in surprise. "Do you really mean that there was only one assumption?"
"No, of course not," Goddard said hurriedly. "That was merely one of the assumptions."
Napier turned to Ramage. "What do you say to this?"
"Has the prosecution questioned any of the survivors of the Topaz, sir?"
Napier looked at Goddard. "Have you?"
"Well, no, not yet."
Ramage shrugged his shoulders and, looking directly at Napier, said quietly: "Then how can the prosecution possibly know that any survivor's evidence could alter the case, sir? I am accused of cowardice in action - how can the fact that the Topaz's people weren't drowned possibly affect that accusation?"
"Really!" Goddard exclaimed angrily. "That isn't the point at all. The prosecution has every right to withdraw the charges if it wishes!"
Napier looked questioningly at the deputy judge advocate. "Can it? What are the precedents for that, Syme? I've never met such a case."
Syme took off his spectacles nervously.
"I - er, I can find no exact precedent, sir. Yesterday, out of curiosity, I tried to find a similar case - simply out of curiosity, of course - and the nearest seemed to be the case of Admiral Keppel."
Napier looked puzzled. "I fail to see the connection."
"When charges were brought against Admiral Keppel by Vice-Admiral Sir Hugh Palliser, it was debated in both Houses of Parliament. However, the Admiralty insisted that they could not interfere; that once the accusations had been made, they were obliged to act ministerially, not judicially. They had to accept the accusations and give orders for the trial."
"That hasn't the slightest bearing on this case," Napier said crossly.
Ramage took the opportunity of reinforcing his objection. "It can't be anything but an injustice, sir, if an officer is charged with these most terrible offences, and the trial is ended the moment the prosecution's case is completed, before the accused can say a single word in his own defence. Whatever the court might rule, the fact is the charges will be talked about by every officer in the Service. But since the defence was never heard, the stigma must always remain!"
Napier turned towards Goddard. "What has the prosecution to say to that? The court feels the prisoner has made an important point."
The Admiral waved his hand contemptuously towards Ramage. "It is up to the prosecution to decide, otherwise the whole discipline of the Navy would be in the hands of dissident seamen!"
Ramage suddenly spotted the flaw in Goddard's argument, and felt himself growing cold with anger. Goddard was recovering his poise; subtly he was changing his role from Ramage's prosecutor to the Admiral who was second-in-command on the station, treating these captains as the subordinate officers they would once again become the moment the trial was over. Very well, Ramage thought; the moment has come to shake that poise; to frighten Goddard.
"With respect, sir," he said to Napier, "a great deal of evidence has already been given on oath, written in the minutes and signed by the witnesses. All that evidence was intended to prove that I acted in a cowardly fashion. If that evidence is true, then I am a coward and deserve to be sentenced to death. If it isn't true, then the witnesses have perjured themselves in an attempt to have me hanged. Since the prosecution brought the charges against me, the only possible reason for the prosecution to withdraw the charges now must be that it knows the evidence is not true and that its witnesses have perjured themselves."
"There was only one witness," Napier said, as if thinking aloud.
"This is scandalous!" Goddard shouted. "Since when has it been a defence to accuse the prosecutor of perjury?"
"He wasn't accusing you," Napier said quietly. "He referred specifically to evidence that has been given."
He waved to Syme. "What do the Court Martial Statutes have to say about perjury?"
The deputy judge advocate hurriedly picked up a volume in front of him, looked at the index and then flicked through several pages.
"Section seventeen, sir - I'll read the relevant part. '...All and every person ... who shall commit any wilful perjury ... or shall corruptly procure or suborn any person to commit such wilful perjury, shall and may be prosecuted in His Majesty's court of King's Bench, by indictment or information ...'"
"Hmm, most interesting," Napier commented. "This court, in ruling on the prosecution's application, must be careful not to cast doubt on anyone's reputation. Well, the court will now deliberate. The prosecutor and prisoner will wait outside."
Goddard strode out of the cabin, followed by Ramage. Ransom was waiting just outside the door and moved over ostentatiously to stand beside Ramage.
Ramage rubbed the scar over his brow. He felt dazed, as though someone had flashed a bright light in his eyes. As he tried to recall everything that had been said in the past few minutes, he could only remember Napier's comment when Syme finished reading the reference to perjury - "... must be careful not to cast doubt on anyone's reputation..."
That, he realized, could mean that Goddard's reputation - or, to be fair, the reputation of the second-in-command on the Jamaica Station - must be safeguarded. So the court would probably decide in Goddard's favour: the prosecution would be allowed to withdraw the case.
What would happen to the minutes? He had told Yorke that whatever happened they had to be sent to the Admiralty, but now he was far from sure. After all, withdrawing the charges presumably meant there had never been a trial in the legal sense, so no minutes would be required. In fact, he suddenly realized, Goddard must be sure that withdrawing the charges meant that all records of the whole business vanished automatically.
Ransom was pulling his arm. "The court is in session again," he hissed. "Come on!"
Napier's face was expressionless, and when Ramage glanced at the other captains they were all staring at the table in front of them or looking round the cabin. Their faces revealed nothing; there was no indication of whether they would toss the victor's laurel crown to the prosecutor or to the prisoner.
He glanced at Goddard. The plump cheeks, thick lips and folding chins were placid and smug; for once the eyes were looking up at the deckhead, fixed and not flickering back and forth. He was almost smiling. Somehow Goddard was sure he had won...