"Objection! Objection! Objection!"
The man being sworn in paused, still not looking in Tommy's direction.
Walker Townsend moved to the front of the tribunal, and Colonel
MacNamara leaned forward in his seat.
"State the basis for your objection, lieutenant," MacNamara said coldly.
Tommy took a deep breath.
"This individual's name appears nowhere on the prosecution's list of witnesses. Your Honor! Therefore, he cannot be called to the stand without the defense having ample opportunity to discuss his testimony "
Walker Townsend half-turned toward Tommy, as he interrupted.
"But Lieutenant Hart, you are disingenuous! Why, you are completely familiar with Mr. Fenelli's connection to the case, and you have interviewed him at length! In fact, it is my belief you intended to call him to the stand yourself."
"Is that true, Mr. Hart?" Colonel MacNamara demanded.
Tommy scrambled inwardly. He felt adrift. He had no idea why the prosecution would call Fenelli, especially knowing what the medic would say about the nature of the wounds suffered by Trader Vic and the type of weapon that inflicted them. But something was deadly and wrong, and Tommy fought against the unknown.
"It is true that I interviewed Lieutenant Fenelli. It is true that I considered calling him…"
"Then I fail to see how you can object, lieutenant," MacNamara said stiffly.
"Sir, it remains true he is not on the prosecution's list! This fact alone should preclude him from taking the stand."
"We just went over this issue with Major Clark, lieutenant!
Because of our unusual circumstances here, the court feels it critical to allow both sides some substantial leeway, while still maintaining the important integrity of the process."
"This is unfair, sir!"
"I think not, lieutenant. Mr. Fenelli, please take your seat!
Captain Townsend, please continue!"
For an instant, Tommy swayed dizzily. Then he slumped back into his own chair. He didn't dare look to the side at Lincoln Scott or Hugh Renaday, though he could hear the Canadian muttering obscenities.
Scott, however, sat stock-still, with both of his palms down on the table, the veins in the backs of his hands standing out rigidly.
Chapter Fourteen
Second Lieutenant Nicholas Fenelli sat uncomfortably on the witness chair, shifting once or twice as he searched for a more accommodating position, and finally leaning forward slightly, placing his hands on top of each of his thighs, as if to steady himself. He did not look over at Tommy Hart, Lincoln Scott, or Hugh Renaday, who wore a look on his face of distinctly murderous fury. Instead, he kept his eyes on Captain Townsend, who maneuvered his own body between Fenelli and the defense as best he could.
"Now, lieutenant," Townsend began slowly, his voice as soft yet cajoling as a teacher trying to prompt some brilliant but shy student, "please tell all of us assembled here how it is that you came to acquire some special expertise in the handling of murder victims."
Fenelli nodded and launched into the story he'd already told Tommy and Hugh, about working in his uncle's mortuary in Cleveland prior to attending medical school. He spoke without the brashness or the bravado that he'd displayed when Tommy first interviewed him. Now he was direct, modest, but complete, and certainly lacking any of the orneriness he'd shown before.
"Very good," Townsend said, calmly absorbing Fenelli's words.
"Now, tell the court how it was that you came to examine the deceased man's remains."
Fenelli nodded.
"It was my job to prepare Captain Bedford's body for burial, sir. I have performed this task on several other unhappy occasions. It was while doing my job that I took note of the wounds on his body."
Again, Townsend nodded slowly. Tommy sat quietly in his seat, noting that Townsend didn't ask anything about the order Clark gave Fenelli not to examine the body. But so far, Fenelli had not departed from anything Tommy had expected.
That wasn't to last.
"Now, did there come a time when Mr. Hart approached you, with pictures of the crime scene, and questions about the manner in which
Captain Bedford died?"
"Yes sir," Fenelli answered swiftly.
"And did you have some opinions about the murder that you expressed to him?"
"Yes sir. I did."
"And are those opinions the same today as they were during that interview?"
Fenelli paused, swallowing hard, then he smiled wanly.
"Well, not exactly," he said with a small hesitation.
Tommy was on his feet immediately.
"Your Honor!" He stared directly at Colonel MacNamara.
"I don't know precisely what's going on with this witness, but this sudden change of attitude stinks!"
Colonel MacNamara nodded.
"It does, perhaps, lieutenant.
But the man is now under oath in front of all of us.
He's sworn to tell the truth. We need to hear what he's going to say before we can judge it."
"Sir, once a cat is out of the bag…"
MacNamara smiled, interrupting.
"I see your point, lieutenant.
But we're still going to listen to the man! Continue, please. Captain
Townsend."
Tommy remained standing, his knuckles pressed hard and white against the defense table.
"Sit down, Mr. Hart!" MacNamara said sharply.
"You may make your arguments at the appropriate time!"
Tommy slumped down.
Captain Townsend hesitated, then asked, "Well, let me back up a little.
Lieutenant Fenelli. Did there come a time subsequent to your conversation with Mr. Hart that you spoke with myself and Major Clark?"
"Yes sir."
"And as part of that conversation, did you have the opportunity to examine the prosecution's evidence in this case? To wit, the homemade knife fashioned by Lieutenant Scott and the articles of clothing that we have here today?"
"Yes sir."
"Now, Mr. Hart didn't show you these things, did he?"
"No sir. He only showed me the drawings he had had prepared."
"Those drawings, did they seem accurate enough to you?"
"Yes sir. They did."
"They still seem that way?"