Fenelli hesitated, a look of uncertainty on his face, almost as if he'd been told to expect one thing from Tommy and was getting something different. In this hesitation. Captain Townsend rose, pushing back from the prosecution table slowly. Colonel MacNamara looked in his direction.
"Do you have an objection, captain?" he asked.
"Well, perhaps, sir," Townsend said slowly, hiding the hesitation in his voice unsuccessfully.
"I simply wonder where the lieutenant is going with this line of questions. What might have been done in this case, back in the States, is not wholly relevant to the issues here today. This is a war, and our circumstances are totally extraordinary…"
MacNamara nodded, and looked over at Tommy.
"These questions, Mr. Hart…"
"If I might have some small leeway. Your Honor. It will become clear in a moment."
"Rapidly, I trust."
Tommy smiled, looked over at Fenelli, and said, "So, your answer would be…"
Fenelli shrugged.
"You're correct. Lieutenant Hart. Things would be different back in the States. Real experts would have been all over this case."
"Thank you," Tommy said quickly, giving a small nod to the mortuary man.
"No further questions of this witness, Your Honor."
Fenelli's face instantly creased into a surprised grin. With a quizzical look, MacNamara gazed down at Tommy.
"Nothing further?" he asked.
"Nope." Tommy made a sweeping gesture toward Fenelli.
"The witness can be excused."
As Fenelli rose to his feet, he scrutinized the Senior American Officer and the two other members of the tribunal.
MacNamara spoke out: "Just a second, lieutenant. Anything else from the prosecution?"
Townsend hesitated, then shook his head. He, too, wore a look of some confusion.
"No sir. At this point, the prosecution rests."
"The witness is excused."
"Yes sir!" Fenelli said, grinning.
"I'm outta here!"
This comment brought a smattering of laughter from the kriegies in the audience, and once again MacNamara resorted to the gavel. Fenelli crossed the room swiftly, tossing a single glance at Tommy that he took to be gratitude. Behind him, the room quieted.
MacNamara spoke first.
"That's it from the prosecution?" he demanded of Townsend.
"Yes sir. As I said, at this point we rest our case."
The Senior American Officer turned to Tommy Hart.
"You did not make an opening statement. Did you wish to do so now?"
Tommy smiled.
"Yes sir. Briefly, sir…"
"That would be good."
Tommy coughed, and spoke loudly.
"I would take this opportunity to remind the members of the tribunal, the prosecution, and all the men of Stalag Luft Thirteen that Lincoln Scott stands here today only accused of this murder. Our Constitution guarantees that until the prosecution proves beyond and to the exclusion of all reasonable doubts, he is cloaked in innocence…"
Walker Townsend rose, interrupting Tommy.
"Sir, isn't it a little late for a lesson in civics?"
MacNamara nodded.
"Your statement, lieutenant " Tommy cut him off.
"But that is it. Your Honor. The defense is ready to proceed."
MacNamara's left eyebrow shot up in modest surprise and he let out a small sigh of relief.
"Very good," he said.
"We can continue on schedule. Do you intend to call Lieutenant Scott to the stand now?"
Tommy paused and shook his head.
"No sir."
There was a moment's quiet, and MacNamara stared at Tommy.
"You do not?"
"Correct, sir. Not at this point."
Both Townsend and Clark had risen again, but they did not speak.
"Well," Colonel MacNamara asked sharply, "do you have some other witness? We were all expecting Lieutenant Scott on the stand at this juncture."
"That's what I thought, colonel," Tommy replied with a smile. His eyes lit up, as if amused, which, in a superficial way, he was. But deep within his heart he felt nothing except a cold and single-minded, murderous savagery of his own, because, for the very first time in the trial, he felt he was about to deliver a stroke that had not been anticipated, either by the prosecution or the judges, and this was to him both raw and delicious. He knew that everyone in the courtroom believed that the prosecution had left him with nothing to present except an angry, accused man's shaky protests of innocence.
"Well then, who?" MacNamara demanded.
"No sir. The defense will not be calling Lieutenant Scott.
Not at this point."
Tommy pivoted sharply, and pointed to the corner of the courtroom-theater. He shouted out his words.
"At this point, the defense calls Luftwaffe Hauptmann Heinrich Visser to the witness stand!"
Then Tommy folded his arms across his chest, satisfaction beating in his chest, appearing to be an island of calm in a courtroom suddenly buffeted by the winds of wildly excited voices.
Chapter Fifteen
Tommy took some little satisfaction in the uproar that erupted in the courtroom behind where he stood. Everyone seemed to have an opinion, and the immediate need to blurt it out loudly. Voices cascaded around him, mingling curiosity, anger, and excitement. It took some determined gaveling by Colonel MacNamara to get the overflow theater crowd of kriegies to quiet down. Behind him, arcing through the jammed throngs of airmen, was a fascination like electricity.
If the trial of Lincoln Scott for the murder of Vincent Bedford was already the best show in town, in one single stroke, Tommy had made it even more compelling, especially to the hundreds of men crippled by the boredom and anxiety of their imprisonment.
By the tenth time MacNamara had shouted "Order!" the men quieted enough for the proceedings to continue. Walker Townsend was already on his feet, gesturing widely with his arms. So was Major Clark, whose usually red face was now nearly crimson, and Tommy thought he looked like a man on the verge of exploding.
"Your Honor!
"Townsend shouted.
"This is highly irregular!"
MacNamara crashed the gavel down again, even though the room had grown silent enough to continue.
"We would most strenuously protest!" the captain from Virginia persisted.
"To call a member of an enemy force to the stand in the midst of an American trial is outrageous!"