"The implications of the theft of evidence are substantial and could threaten the entirety of this morning's planned sessions."
"Yes sir," Tommy started.
"That is why a delay would be " "I haven't finished, lieutenant."
"Sorry, sir."
MacNamara cleared his throat.
"The more I thought about this matter, the more I came to believe that bringing it up in open court in front of the entire camp population as well as the representatives from the Germans would only serve to confuse the situation considerably. The tension in the camp surrounding the murder and now with the arrival of the trial, as evidenced by the confrontation following the discovery of the carvings on Scott's door… well, gentlemen, I am concerned.
Mightily concerned."
Tommy could sense Scott, standing at his side, about to speak, but the black flier instead swallowed his retort and MacNamara continued to talk.
"Consequently, Lieutenant Hart, Lieutenant Scott, I took it upon myself to summon Captain Townsend, and confront him with the charges you have made, and he assures me that no member of the prosecution nor any witness he is planning on calling to the witness stand were in any way whatsoever involved in this alleged theft."
"Why, Tommy, I thought y'all were just collecting some firewood for the cooking stove, that's all…" Townsend said brightly, interrupting the colonel, but not receiving a rebuke.
"I had no idea it had something to do with our case."
Tommy pivoted toward Townsend.
"The hell you did!" he said.
"You followed me over there and observed me prying that board from the wall. You knew exactly what I was doing. And you were equally concerned that Visser saw the same…"
"Keep your voice down, lieutenant!" Clark interjected.
Townsend continued to shake his head.
"Nothing of the sort," he said.
Tommy turned to Colonel MacNamara.
"Sir, I object-" Again the colonel cut him off.
"Your objection is noted, lieutenant. But…" he paused, eyeing Scott for a moment, before turning his gaze on Tommy, and then speaking with a solidity that seemed to even stop the cold wind, "it is my decision that the matter of this bloodstained board is now closed.
If it did exist, then it was probably understandably mistaken for firewood and innocently burned by some third party genuinely unaware of its significance. That is, if it actually did exist, of which there remains absolutely no concrete proof in the slightest. Mr. Hart, you may still argue what you wish at trial. But there will be no mention of this alleged evidence without some independent corroboration. And we will hear any claims you might make about it and what it might show in private, out of the sight of the Germans! Do I make myself clear?"
"Colonel MacNamara, this is wrong and unfair. I protest-" "Your protest is also noted, lieutenant."
Scott was seething, instantly brought to a boil over by the summary dismissal of their claims. He stepped forward, his fists clenched at his side, jaw stuck outward, about to vent his fury, only to be met with a withering stare from the commanding officer.
"Lieutenant Scott," MacNamara whispered coldly, "keep your mouth shut.
That's a direct order. Your counselor has spoken on your behalf, and further debate will only worsen your situation."
One of Scott's eyebrows shot upward in angry inquisition.
"Worsen?" he asked softly, controlling his rage with internal ropes and hawsers, padlocks and chains.
The single-word question fell into a silence surrounding the men. No one took up a response.
MacNamara continued to freeze the three members of the defense with his steady glare. He allowed the quiet to continue for a few seconds, then he slowly lifted his hand to the edge of his cap, deliberately, the pace displaying his own knotted angers.
"You are all dismissed until zero eight hundred"-he looked down at his watch-"which is fifty-nine minutes from now."
Then MacNamara and Clark turned and headed inside the hut. Townsend, too, started to leave, but Tommy shot out his right arm and seized the captain by the sleeve.
Walker Townsend pivoted like a sailboat coming about under a stiff breeze, and faced Tommy, who had but one word for him, before releasing him: "Liar!" Tommy whispered into the Virginian's face.
The captain half-opened his mouth to respond, then thought better of it. He spun about and marched off swiftly, leaving the three members of the defense alone at the side of the hut.
Scott watched the captain walk away, then he took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall of Hut 122. He reached inside his flight jacket slowly, removing a half-eaten bar of chocolate. He broke off three small chunks, handing one each to Tommy and Hugh, before popping the smallest of the three into his own mouth. For a moment, the trio stepped out of the wind, against the building, letting the richness of the Hershey's bar melt in their mouths, awakening their taste buds.
Tommy allowed the chocolate to turn to mush on his tongue before swallowing.
"Thanks," he said.
Scott grinned.
"Well, that was such a bitter little meeting, I figured we all needed something to sweeten up our existences, and the chocolate was all I currently had available."
The three men all laughed at the joke.
"I would hazard a guess, lads," Renaday said, "that perhaps we should not be expecting too many rulings heading our direction during the upcoming proceedings."
Scott shook his head.
"Nah," he said.
"But he'll still throw us some bones, won't he. Hart? Not the important bones. The ones with meat on them. But some of the smaller ones will still come our way. He wants it to look fair. What did I say before?
A lynching. But a fair one."
Scott sighed.
"Hell," he said, "that was funny. Well, maybe not outright funny, but amusing. Except that it's happening to me." He shook his head.
Tommy nodded.
"Learned something, though. Something I hadn't really thought of. You didn't see it, Scott?"
The black airman swallowed and looked quizzically at Tommy for a moment.
"Keep talking, counselor," he said.
"What was there to see?"
"MacNamara was real concerned about how things play out in front of the Germans, wasn't he? I mean, here we are, stuck over here out of sight of everybody in the camp just about, and he's talking about not letting the Krauts see anything.
Especially something that might suggest that Trader Vic was killed someplace other than that Abort. Now I find that sort of interesting, because, if you think about it, what they really want to show the damn Nazis is how damn bend-over-backwards fair we are in our trials. Not the exact opposite."
"In other words," Scott said slowly, "you think this railroad is part show?"