"So, major," Walker Townsend suddenly boomed, "did there come a time when, as part of your official duties, you were called to investigate the murder of Captain Vincent Bedford?"
Tommy swung his eyes over to the witness. Here it comes, he thought to himself.
"Yes. Correct."
"Tell us how that came about."
For a moment. Major Clark turned toward the defense table, fixing
Tommy, then Lincoln Scott, with a harsh, unforgiving glare. Then, slowly, he launched into his story, lifting his voice, so that it coursed past Captain Townsend, and reached out to every kriegie in the audience, and all those hanging by the windows and doors, Clark described being awakened in the predawn hours by the ferret's alarm-he did not identify Fritz Number One as the ferret who discovered the body-and how he had carefully entered the Abort and first seen Vincent
Bedford's corpse. He told the assembly that the very first and only suspect had been Lincoln Scott, based on the prior bad blood, animosity, and fights between the two men. He also told how he had spotted the telltale crimson blood spatters on the toes of Scott's flight boots and on the left-hand shoulder and sleeve of his leather jacket, when the black airman had been confronted in Commandant Von Reiter's office. The other elements of the case, Clark said, fell into place rapidly. Trader Vic's roommates had told of Scott's construction of the murder weapon, and informed him about the hiding place beneath the floorboards where it had been concealed.
Clark stitched each element of the prosecution's case into a single tapestry. He spoke at length, steadily, persuasively, with bull doglike determination, as he gave context to all the other witnesses.
Tommy did not object to the major's words, nor to the damning portrait he created. He knew one thing: The major, for all his stiffness and military rigidity, was a fighter, much like Lincoln Scott. If Tommy battled him on every point, with a series of objections, he would respond like an athlete; each little struggle would only serve to make him stronger and more determined to reach the goal.
But cross-examination was a different matter.
As Major Clark finished his testimony. Tommy lay in wait, feeling for all the world like a cobra in the high grass. He knew what he was required to do. One single weakness in the steady, convincing story the major told. Just attack that one critical point and expose it for a lie, then the rest will crumble. At least that was what he hoped, and he knew where he was going to strike. Had known since the first minute he'd examined the evidence.
He stole a sideways glance over at Scott. The black airman was fingering the stub of the pencil again. Tommy watched as Scott suddenly took the pencil and wrote on one of the precious scrap pieces of paper the single word: Why.
It was a good question. Tommy thought. One that still eluded him.
"One last question. Major Clark," Walker Townsend was saying.
"Do you have any personal animosity toward Lieutenant Scott, or toward members of the Negro race, in general?"
"Objection!"
Colonel MacNamara nodded toward Tommy Hart.
"The lieutenant is correct, captain," he admonished Townsend.
"The question is self-serving and irrelevant."
Captain Townsend smiled.
"Well, perhaps self-serving, colonel," he responded.
"But hardly irrelevant, I would wager."
He said this as he turned toward the audience, playing the moment for the assembled kriegies. It was not necessary for Major Clark to have answered the question. Merely by asking it, Townsend had answered it for him.
"Do you have other questions, captain?" MacNamara asked.
"No sir!" Townsend replied, snapping his words like a salute.
"Your witness, lieutenant."
Tommy rose slowly, moving out from behind the defense's table with patience. He looked over at Major Clark and saw that the witness was sitting forward in his seat, eagerly anticipating the first question.
"Do you have, major, any particular expertise in criminal investigations?"
Major Clark paused, before responding.
"No, lieutenant. But every senior officer in the army is accustomed to investigating disputes and conflicts between men under our command. We are trained to determine the truth in these situations. A murder, while unusual, is merely an extension of a dispute. The process is the same."
"Quite an extension, I'd say."
Major Clark shrugged.
"So, you have no police training?" Tommy continued.
"You've never been taught how to examine a crime scene, have you?"
"No. Correct."
"And you do not have any special expertise in the collection and interpretation of evidence, do you?"
Major Clark hesitated, then answered forcefully.
"I have no special expertise, no. But this case did not require any.
It was cut and dried, right from the start."
"So you say."
"Correct, again, lieutenant. So I say."
Major Clark's face had reddened slightly, and his feet were no longer flat on the floor, but lifted slightly at the heels, almost as if he were about to spring up. Tommy took a moment to read the major's face and body, and he thought the man wary but confident. Tommy moved over to Scott and Renaday and whispered to the Canadian, "Let me have those drawings, now."
Hugh pulled out from beneath the table the three crime scene sketches that Phillip Pryce's Irish artist friend had drawn. He handed them to Tommy.
"Nail the pompous bastard," he whispered, perhaps just loud enough for any kriegie with keen hearing to understand.
"Major Clark," Tommy said loudly, "I am going to show you three drawings. The first shows the wounds in Captain Bedford's neck and hands. The second shows how his body was located in the Abort stall.
The third is a diagram of the Abort itself. Please examine these, and tell me if you think they fairly represent what you yourself saw on the morning following the murder."
Walker Townsend was on his feet.
"I'd like to see those," he demanded.
Tommy thrust the three drawings at Major Clark, then gestured toward the captain.
"You can look over his shoulder, captain. But I do not recall your presence at the Abort crime scene, so I would question your ability to determine the accuracy of these pictures."
Townsend scowled and walked behind Major Clark. Both men examined each drawing carefully. Tommy saw Captain Townsend bend over slightly, and start to speak in the major's ear.
"Don't speak to the witness!" he shouted. His words creased the still air of the makeshift courtroom. Tommy stepped forward angrily, pointing a finger in Townsend's face.
"You have had your opportunity with the witness, and now it is my turn for cross-examination. Don't try to advise him in the middle of my cross!"
Townsend's eyes were narrow, staring at Tommy Hart. Into this instant fury. Colonel MacNamara interjected himself, taking Tommy slightly by surprise by landing squarely on his side.