"And in growing up, it was not unusual for you to come into contact with Negroes, is that correct, sir?"
"Correct. Several attended my high school. And there were others that were employed at my place of business."
"So, you, sir, are not a bigot?"
Again Tommy jumped up.
"Objection! The witness cannot conclude this about himself! Why-"
MacNamara cut him off.
"Captain Townsend, please make your point."
Townsend nodded again.
"Yes sir. My point, sir, is to show this tribunal that there is no southern conspiracy here operating against Lieutenant Scott. We do not hear solely from men who hail from states that seceded from the Union.
The so-called slave states. My point. Your Honor, is that men from states with long traditions of harmonious coexistence of the races are here willing, no, eager, I dare say, to testify against Lieutenant Scott, and who witnessed actions the prosecution feels are crucial to the sequence of events that resulted in this most despicable murder…"
"Objection!" Tommy jumped up, shouting.
"The captain makes a speech designed to en flame the court."
MacNamara stared over at Tommy.
"You are correct, lieutenant.
Objection sustained. Enough with the speech, captain.
On with the questions."
"I would further point out that simply because someone comes from a particular section of the United States gives him no greater or lesser claim on the truth. Colonel…"
"Now, Mr. Hart, it is you who makes speeches. The tribunal can judge the integrity of witnesses without your assistance.
Sit down!"
Tommy sat down hard, and Lincoln Scott immediately leaned over, whispering.
"Racial harmony, my ass. Murphy was just as fast as Vic was with the word nigger. Just spoken in a different accent, that's all."
"I remember," Tommy said.
"In the corridor. I may remind him on cross-examination."
Townsend had sauntered over to the prosecution's table.
Major Clark reached down beneath and removed the dark sheet-metal frying pan that Scott had constructed to fix his meals. The major handed it to Townsend, who pivoted and approached the witness.
"Now, lieutenant, I'm showing you an exhibit that we have introduced as evidence. Do you recognize this, sir?"
"I do, captain," Murphy replied.
"How do you recognize it?"
"I watched as Lieutenant Scott constructed the frying pan, sir. He was in the corner of the barracks room in Hut 101 that we all shared. He fashioned the pan out of a piece of metal liberated from one of the German refuse bins, sir. I have seen other kriegies do the same, but I remember thinking that Scott seemed to have some expertise with metalwork, because this was the best version of the frying pan that I had seen in my months here."
"And what did you observe next?"
"I saw that he had some leftover metal that he was beginning to form into some other shape. He used a piece of wood to hammer out the bends and wrinkles, sir."
"Please tell the tribunal what you next witnessed."
"I left the room, briefly, sir, but when I returned, I saw Lieutenant
Scott wrapping the handle of this leftover piece of metal with an old strip of cloth."
"What was it that he appeared to have constructed?"
"A knife, sir."
Tommy jumped up.
"Objection! Calls for a conclusion."
"Overruled!" MacNamara bellowed.
"Continue, lieutenant."
"Yes sir," Murphy said.
"I remember asking Scott, right then, what the hell did he need that for? Damn thing was near as big as a sword " "Objection!"
"On what grounds?"
"This is hearsay, colonel."
"No, it isn't. Please continue."
"I mean," Murphy persisted, "I'd never seen anyone in this camp ever construct something like that…"
Townsend had once again crossed over to the prosecution's table. Major Clark handed him the flattened metal blade. The prosecutor held it up before him, almost like Lady Macbeth, then he slashed it through the air several times.
"Objection!"Tommy shouted again.
"These histrionics…"
MacNamara nodded.
"Captain Townsend…"
The southerner smiled.
"Of course. Your Honor. Now, Lieutenant Murphy, is this the device you saw Lieutenant Scott manufacture?"
"It is," Murphy replied.
"Did you ever see him use this knife to prepare his food?"
"No sir. Like a lot of us, he had a small, folding penknife that's much more efficient."
"So, Scott never used this blade for any legitimate purpose?"
"Objection!" Once again Tommy was on his feet.
"Sit down. This is why we're here. Lieutenant Hart. Answer the question. Lieutenant Murphy."
"I never saw him use the blade for any legitimate purpose, no sir."
Townsend hesitated slightly, then asked: "And when you saw Lieutenant Scott form this blade, did you ask him why he needed it?"
"Yes sir."
"And his reply. Lieutenant Murphy?"
"Well, sir, I remember his words exactly. They were: "For protection."
And so I asked him who he needed to be protected from, and Scott said:
"That bastard Bedford." Those were his words, sir. Just as I remember. And then he told me, clear out, without my asking any question beforehand, "I ought to kill the son of a bitch before he kills me!
"That's what he said, sir. I heard him clear as day!"
Tommy thrust himself up, throwing his own chair backward, so that it clattered loudly on the floor. He stood stiffly, shouting, "Objection!
Objection! Colonel, this is outrageous!"
MacNamara bent forward, his own face red, almost as if he'd been interrupted in the midst of some backbreaking job of work.
"What precisely is outrageous, lieutenant? The words your client spoke? Or something else?" The Senior American Officer's words were marred with contempt.
Tommy took a deep breath, fixing MacNamara with as harsh a look as the SAO had for him.
"Sir, my objection is twofold. First, this testimony comes as a complete surprise to the defense! When asked what he would testify to, this witness replied, "Threats and animosity…" There was no mention of this alleged conversation! I believe that it is fantasy!
Made-up lies, designed to unfairly influence…"
"You may try to bring that out under cross, lieutenant."