A Far Justice (36 page)

A loud and collective gasp escaped from the audience as Bouchard’s face turned even a brighter red. Bouchard came out of his seat in a pure rage, and Hank feared he had gone too far. But Della Sante was beside Bouchard, guiding him back into his chair. Bouchard muttered a few words to Della Sante and Richter nodded in agreement. Della Sante picked up the gavel and held it in her hands. She glared at Hank and gave one hard rap. “Counsel is out of order,” she said. “That is twice you have insulted this court with a baseless charge. Our patience is at an end. It is only because we are in the final stages of this trial that you are not summarily dismissed as defense counsel. Do not do it again. Call your next witness.”

The two stared at each other locked in a contest of wills. “Your Honor, our other witness will not arrive until late this evening. We respectfully request the court adjourn and reconvene at this time tomorrow.”

“I have no doubt,” Della Sante said, “that counsel is prepared to call other witnesses to fill the rest of day.” Hank slowly nodded, confirming her suspicions. “To what purpose these witnesses would serve totally escapes me.” She glanced at Bouchard who was not recovering. “Rather than waste the court’s time, we are adjourned until tomorrow as it will allow us time to review your latest petition in the depth it does not deserve.” She fixed Hank with a hard look. “Would you be so kind to indulge the court with the name of your final witness?”

“The Reverend Tobias Person,” Hank replied.

FORTY

The Hague

Gus came to his feet when Jason and Hank entered the holding cell.
“Toby’s here,” was all Jason said. Father and son reached out and clasped hands, neither saying a word. Hank stood by the door, not wanting to intrude. He did not consider himself a brave person, yet he was in the presence of two very courageous men who called him ‘friend,’ and he was part of the moment. He would remember it all his life.

“When can I see him?” Gus asked.

“After he’s testified,” Hank answered.

“He’s in pretty bad shape,” Jason said. “He took two bullets, one in his side and one in the leg. Infection set in. Hiding in a foxhole half full of swamp water didn’t help.”

“Does he know about his family?” Gus asked.

“I told him last night,” Hank said. “I can’t believe the strength of the man. He said he had heard the rumor and wasn’t surprised. He blames himself for not being there.”

Jason studied his father. “We talked about it, Dad. He’s going back to rebuild. I want to get out of the Air Force and go with him.”

Gus understood. “Have you talked to Aly?”

“We talked last night. She’s all for it.”

“I might be able to help with the Air Force,” Hank said. “The State Department lodged a protest with the Pentagon about your going to the Sudan. It won’t be pretty, but it is a lever to get you out.”

“I hope you know how proud I am of you,” Gus said. “Do it no matter what happens here, okay?”

Hank hated to interrupt. “It’s time.” He led Gus into the courtroom and waited while he entered the dock. “Everyone’s on edge. Can you feel it?” Gus studied the audience for a moment and agreed. “Catherine is convinced something is in the wind,” Hank continued. “She’s got good instincts, and no matter what, don’t blow your cool.”

“Got it,” Gus assured him. Hank joined Aly at the defense table as day eighteen of the trial started.

Bouchard definitely looked better and was in his usual irascible mood as he reconvened the trial. “We have taken defense counsel’s petition in the matter of Henri Scullanois under careful review. We find nothing of a compelling nature to warrant reversing our previous ruling. Petition denied.” He peered over his glasses expecting a reaction from Hank.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Hank replied as he came to his feet. A titter of laughter worked its way around the room at the shocked look on Bouchard’s face and momentarily broke the rising tension. Bouchard coughed and told Hank to call his next witness. The lawyer turned to the audience and played the moment. “The defense calls the Reverend Tobias Person.” The side door swung open and Jason pushed in a wheelchair with Toby. He sat upright but his face was pale and drawn and his eyes watery and drowsy. A light bead of sweat over his upper lip caught the light and a lap robe covered his legs. Jason pushed him as far as the witness stand and then retreated to sit beside Catherine. Toby sat in the wheelchair and made no attempt to enter the witness stand. The clerk rose to administer the oath.

Denise was on her feet. “I must object. It is obvious this witness should be in hospital, and I seriously doubt he has the mental acuity to testify.”

Hank was ready. “Reverend Person is under a doctor’s care and the chamber can determine if he has the mental acuity to testify.”

Denise’s staff had done their homework and she scoffed. “Is the Reverend here with his doctor’s approval?”

Hank knew better than to sidestep the issue. “Reverend Person decided to override the attending doctor’s recommendation.”

“May I remind the court,” Denise said, “that this witness is here contrary to the ruling of the Witness and Victims’ Protection Unit, which specifically directed the court not to transport the witness for his own safety. Defense counsel deliberately ignored this ruling, and the court can see at what cost.” She raised her head in indignation, claiming the TV cameras. “The court’s duty is to protect the weak and innocent who cannot protect themselves. We cannot let anyone, prosecutor or defense counsel, ride roughshod over this basic principle. To do so would make us all derelict in our duty.”

Hank shot her a look of contempt. “Is procedure more important than the truth? Is the prosecutor afraid to hear what Reverend Person might say now that he is here?”

“Must I repeat myself?” Denise countered. “The witness is not in a fit state to testify. Further, given the nature of his wounds and resultant high fever, the court must assume he has suffered permanent cognitive damage, making any testimony questionable.”

“It is the court’s duty to determine if the witness is capable of taking the stand and evaluating his testimony, not the prosecutor’s.”

Bouchard was at the end of his patience. He held up his hand, commanding Hank to silence. “Monsieur Person, are you here contrary to your doctor’s orders?”

“Your Honor,” Toby answered, “a doctor did recommend that I not testify.” His voice was weak and reedy, barely audible. “But I am a doctor and know I am capable of taking the stand.”

Denise was ready. “The court has determined by other means the relevancy of the witness’s testimony.”

Hank faced the three judges. “I am appalled by the prosecutor’s argument. Every defendant has the right to examine, in court, the evidence and witnesses against him. In this case, the evidence in question is an alleged statement by the Reverend Person that was presented to the court by ‘other means.’ These ‘other means’ have been called into question. Reverend Person is now present in court and ready to testify. Further, the Reverend Person has in his possession his copy of the electronic recording of his original statement.”

“Your Honors,” Denise protested, “first we are asked to hear the testimony of an obviously sick man. Now we are presented with ‘his copy of the electronic recording of his original statement.’ How can the court be expected to verify the authenticity of this recording? There is no established chain of custody and the recording, by nature of its timing and the way it reached this court, must be considered suspect.”

“And the honorable Watban Horan’s testimony is not?” Hank asked.

Bouchard had heard enough. “We will recess to consider the prosecutor’s objection to the witness.” He stood and marched out of the room as Della Sante and Richter followed.

Aly rushed over to Toby and knelt beside the wheelchair. Hank was right behind her. “So this is what Gus has been going through,” Toby said. He turned to his old friend and raised his hand in greeting. Gus stood and nodded in acknowledgement. They waited in silence for a few moments until the red light on the clerk’s desk flashed. The court was back in session.

Bouchard adjusted his glasses and started to read. “We have taken the prosecutor’s objection to the witness under consideration and find that she is correct. The witness will not be allowed to testify, and hence the witness’s recording of his statement will not be allowed into evidence.” A loud rumble of disapproval swept through the audience. Bouchard banged his gavel until he could be heard. “If there is another outburst, I will order the courtroom cleared.” The audience calmed. “Further, I will remind defense counsel that this chamber is fully capable of evaluating all evidence against the accused. We are not a panel of untrained and inexperienced jurors. You may call your next witness.”

“Look at Gus,” Aly whispered. Hank turned towards the dock. Gus’s face was frozen, his eyes hard, his body tensed and poised. For the first time, Hank saw the warrior. This was a man, who, under the right circumstances, would kill without hesitation or guilt.

Hank came to his feet shaking his head. “Your Honor, you leave me at a total loss for words. We request a brief recess to confer with Colonel Tyler.”

Bouchard banged his gavel, using it like a weapon. “We have addressed the issue of proper titles in the past. Do not try this court’s patience further or you will be removed as defense counsel. The court is in recess for fifteen minutes.” He stood and marched out leaving a stunned Della Sante and Richter behind.

Gus stood in the center of the holding cell, his arms folded across his chest, his feet apart as Hank and Aly rushed in. “Close the door,” he ordered. “Hank, I need to speak to Cassandra.” The lawyer opened his percom and handed it to Gus. “Cassandra, are we being bugged?”

The image cocked her head at Gus, and, for a moment, didn’t answer. “Yes, you are.”

“Jam the living hell out of ‘em. Whatever you can do, do it.”

“I’ll need a power source. Place your percom next to any electrical outlet or fixture in your cell and I’ll do what I can.” The image smiled. “Oh my, this is going to be exciting.”

Gus turned to Hank. “Fuck those bastards. End it. The sooner the better.”

Hank started to protest but the look on Gus’s face convinced him that any argument would be fruitless, if not dangerous. “Done.”

“I need to speak to Aly,” Gus said, motioning Hank out the door. The door closed and she was in his arms, crying. He felt her heart beating against his chest and he slowly relaxed. “It’s going to be okay. Trust me.” Her tears slowly quieted. “Do you still have that business card I gave you?” She nodded, her face still against his chest. He whispered in her ear, telling her exactly what he wanted.

They were back in session and Hank stood at the podium. “If it may please the court, the defense rests.” He sat down.

For once, Bouchard did not have to confer with the other two judges. “I hereby declare the submission of evidence is closed. At this time, we invite the prosecutor and defense to make closing statements. In accordance with Rule 141, defense will have the opportunity to speak last. Madam Prosecutor, do you wish to make a closing statement?”

Denise came to her feet, still stunned by the rapid turn of events. “Thank you, your Honor, we do. If it pleases the court, the prosecution would like to prepare over the weekend and present our closing statement on Monday.”

Bouchard made a note. “Does defense wish to make a closing statement?”

“Indeed we do, your Honor. How about today?”

Bouchard arched an eyebrow. “Does the defense relinquish the opportunity to speak last?”

“No, we do not. However, it is the defendant’s wish to end this trial as soon as possible and we see no need for further delay at this point. If I may quote your Honor, ‘this chamber is fully capable of evaluating all evidence against the accused.’ You are, indeed, a panel of experienced and learned justices who do not require direction or explanation.” He almost added “from mere mortals” but thought better of it.

Bouchard stared at Hank, not quite certain if he was being sarcastic. He made a decision. “We are adjourned and will reconvene tomorrow, Friday, at ten o’clock in the morning to receive closing statements.”

2

Therese Derwent sat beside Gus in the corner of her office and handed him a demitasse. She waited while he sipped. “In court today,” she began, “when Justice Bouchard would not allow Person to testify, I have never seen you so angry.”

Gus set the small cup down and tried to look forlorn. “That was the whole ballgame right there.” He drew in a deep breath and gave a little shudder.
Don’t overdo it
, he thought. “The court will never hear the truth and Horan’s testimony will convict me.”

“Have you spoken with your wife recently?” she asked, desperate to move him away from the despair she believed would drive him to suicide. She reached into her handbag and handed him her cell phone. “Please. It’s late morning in Minnesota.” She retreated to her desk to give him as much privacy as she could.

Gus punched in the number and Clare answered. His spirits soared. “How are you, love?” he asked.

“I’m sitting by the window and reading. The sun is out and Michelle is doing volunteer work at the boys’ school. We’re all doing fine.”

“You sound great. How about turning the camera on so I can see you?”

“No way!” she laughed. It was the same laugh that had enchanted him so many years ago, and, for a moment, he was young again. “They’ve got me on a new medication and my hair is falling out. It’s not chemo but I am having a reaction to it. Don’t worry, I’m much better.”

The psychiatrist tried not to listen as they talked, but she couldn’t help herself. Gus was intelligent, loyal, and warm with charm and consideration. He was exactly what she valued in any human being. When they were finished, she rejoined him. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I have an engagement tonight in Amsterdam and won’t be here. If you need help sleeping, I can have the prison’s doctor bring you a sedative.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”