Fly Up into the Night Air (24 page)

* * *

Magistrate Tine settled into his seat, resting his elbow on the bench and his chin on his hand. "Mr. Walford, please continue with your witnesses."

"Thank you, Magistrate."

"I call Peli of Walford's Crossing to the stand."

Peli stood and walked forward from the spectator's gallery, giving the defendant's table a wide berth as he passed. Harte watched Brin follow Peli's movements. Brin seemed to be trying to memorize Peli's features, much as a gambler might memorize the features of a man whom he is convinced has cheated him.

The clerk of court stood. "Do you swear on your sacred honor that you will speak truth to this court?"

"I do."

"State your full name and place of residence for the Court."

"Peli of Walford's Crossing. I'm staying at the Sisters of Mercy Hospital."

"Please be seated."

Harte took a position near the witness stand. "Peli, I'm going to start by asking you about the events of six December, last year. Do you remember that night?"

"Yes."

Harte tried to smile reassuringly. "Good. This morning, we heard testimony from three men who went to Dock Street with the defendant, Mr. Greer, on the night of the sixth. Did you see any of those men on the night of the sixth?"

"Yes, I did." Peli identified Caleb Stowe and Miles Groat.

"Thank you, Peli. Now, when did you see these two men?"

"I was a little after two bells. I was waiting outside the Red Rooster."

Harte kept his voice gentle. "You need only answer the question I ask, Peli."

"Oh, right."

"How do you know it was after two bells?"

"I heard the bells, while I was waiting. It was a little after that, when I saw the men."

"What were they doing, when you saw them?"

"They were coming up Dock Street towards me."

"From north or south?"

Peli looked unsure.

"Let me rephrase that. Were they walking towards Hill Street or away from it."

"Oh. They were walking towards it."

"And where you were waiting, you were between them and Hill Street."

"Uh huh."

Magistrate Tine lifted his chin off his palm. "Please use the words
yes
or
no
rather than sounds, Mr.--ah, Peli. We don't want any ambiguity in the record, do we?"

"Oh, right."

There was a pause. Harte prompted, "Do you need me to repeat the question, Peli?"

"Sorry. No--I mean yes, I was between the men and Hill Street."

"Oh dear, perhaps we'd better clarify that. I'll ask it again, and you just answer, all right? When you saw the men walking towards the Red Rooster, you were between them and Hill Street, right?"

Peli nodded. Harte gestured towards his mouth. Peli blushed and stammered. "Yes."

"Good. You're doing fine, Peli. Just relax and answer my questions."

"Now, were the two men you've identified alone, or were they with others?"

"They were with two other men. But, I couldn't see them very well, because they were on the other side of the street."

"Very well. What happened, when they got near the Red Rooster?"

"That was when Raf came out of the Red Rooster."

"And what did Raf do when he came out?" said Harte.

"He went up to the men and said something."

"Did you hear what he said?"

Peli thought for a moment. "No."

"Was his behavior threatening in any way?"

"No. I don't think so. He was singing, you see, and walking funny."

"Do you remember what he was singing?"

"A drinking song. You know--the one that goes like this." Peli sang a few bars. Magistrate Tine's eyebrows rose and his mouth twitched. There was open laughter from the spectator's benches. Peli blushed again.

"Thank you, Peli," said Harte, with careful gravity. "I take it Raf had been drinking, when he came out of the Red Rooster."

"I guess so. I mean he could still walk and all."

"What happened after Raf spoke to the men?"

"One of them hit him in the head."

"Did you see who hit him in the head?"

"No, I couldn't see his face, because he had his back to me."

"It wasn't either of the men you've identified?"

"No."

"What happened, then?"

"Raf began to yell."

"Did Raf try to defend himself?"

"Yes. He tried to hit the man."

"Did he get in a good punch?"

"No, he just got the man's arm."

"What happened, then?"

"The man kept hitting Raf. Then Raf started to scream for help. Real loud."

"Did anyone come?"

"No. Everyone ran away."

"Why did they do that?"

"Objection!" Councilman Greer was on his feet. "The question calls for speculation on the part of the witness."

Magistrate Tine sat up. "Rephrase or withdraw the question Mr. Walford."

"I'll withdraw the question. What happened next, Peli?"

"Raf fell down and the man started kicking him."

"What did you do, then?"

"I yelled, and I tried to stop him, but the other men wouldn't let me get to him. One of them tried grab me--"

"Which one tried to grab you, Peli?"

"That one." Peli pointed.

"Mr. Stowe."

"Yes, Mr. Stowe. But I ran away."

"Before you ran away, did you see what the man who hit Raf was wearing?"

"Yes. He had on a dark cloak with a black and white striped, f
u
r collar."

"A dark cloak with a black and white striped, f
u
r collar." Harte walked back to the presenter's table. He reached into a canvas sack that rested there. "Is this the cloak that you saw that night, Peli?" He lifted out the cloak and placed around his shoulders. He strode back towards the witness stand.

"Yes, that's it. I've never seen another like it."

"Thank you, Peli." Harte removed the cloak and returned it to the table leaving the striped collar visible on top. He took a breath. "Now, I'm going to ask you about something that happened during the week after the beating. Where were you living at that time, Peli?"

Peli looked down and mumbled. "I was living under a boat."

"It's very important that you speak up so that the council can hear you, Peli. Please say it again."

Peli sat up in his seat and drew back his shoulders. "I was living under a boat, by the river."

"Thank you. You're doing fine, Peli. What happened to you during the week after the beating, while you living under the boat?"

"I was washing in the river, when a man came down to the shore and sat on my clothes."

"He sat on your clothes?" There was muffled laughter from the spectator gallery.

"Yes, so I had to stay in the river and couldn't put them back on again. I was very cold, and I couldn't stop shivering."

"Is the man who sat on your clothes here in the courtroom?"

Peli identified Brin Greer.

"Thank you, Peli. Did Mr. Greer say anything to you?"

"Yes. He said, 'If you know what's good for you, you'll forget you ever knew anyone named Raf.'"

"Then what did he do?"

"He just sat there looking at me, while I shivered."

"What was Mr. Greer wearing, then?"

"He was wearing a black,
fur-lined
cloak."

"Not the same cloak you saw on the night of six December?"

Councilman Greer stood again. "Objection! The presenter advocate is leading the witness."

Harte was undeterred. "I'll rephrase. Was the cloak the same as the one you saw on the night of six December?"

"No, it was different."

"What happened next?"

"He got up and threw my clothes into the river."

"He threw your clothes into the river--so they were soaked?"

"Yes."

"Did you have any other clothes, Peli?"

"No."

"So you had to put on wet clothes in the middle of December?"

"Yes." There were murmurs from the crowd.

Harte turned to Councilman Greer. Councilman Greer was staring at his son's indifferent face. "Your witness."

Councilman Greer rose slowly to his feet and wandered over to the witness' stand. By the time he had reached it, there was a broad smile stretched across his rubbery features. "Peli. How long have you been a resident of Walford's Crossing?"

"About eight months."

"Eight months. Hmm. How old are you, Peli?"

"I'll be fifteen in March."

"It's just Peli, then? Haven't you a family name to share with the Court?"

Peli shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I have no family."

"Surely, you did not spring whole formed from the earth? What happened to your parents?"

Harte stood. "Objection, Magistrate. Relevance. What have Peli's parents to do with the matter at hand?"

Magistrate Tine was laconic. "Councilman Greer? You have some point? Or do you hope to expand your social circle?" There was laughter from the back of the spectator's gallery.

Councilman Greer managed to look mildly surprised. "Oh dear, I simply wondered what Peli had done to so offend his parents that they should reject him."

Harte was on his feet again, instantly, his heart pounding in his ears. "Objection! Councilman Greer's comment is offensive and assumes facts not in evidence. I move that the councilman's comment be stricken from the record."

Magistrate Tine was brisk. "The clerk will strike Councilman Greer's last comment from the record. Council of Court, you will ignore Councilman Greer's comment. Councilman Greer, perhaps you have a question for Peli?"

Harte's gaze found his father. The muscles and planes of his father's face were taught under his skin.

"Yes. Peli, are you aware what type of person it is that visits the Red Rooster?"

Harte snapped to attention. "Objection! The question is ambiguous."

"I will rephrase. Peli, have you ever seen a woman enter the Red Rooster?"

"No."

"Then you are familiar with the Red Rooster. Are women welcome in the Red Rooster?"

Peli shrugged. "I suppose."

"Come now, boy. Isn't it true that the Red Rooster caters to men who prefer the company of other men over that of women?"

"I guess so."

"You described yourself as waiting outside the Red Rooster, when you saw Raf leave the tavern and meet Mr. Greer and his companions. Just
who
were you waiting for?"

"I was waiting for Raf."

"So you knew Raf."

"He was my friend."

"My condolences at his loss." Peli did not respond, but stared at the councilman. "Peli, how did you support yourself after you came to Walford's Crossing?"

Peli lowered his eyes. "I, uh--people gave me stuff."

"You mean food and coin?"

"Sometimes."

"And they asked nothing in return?"

"Not always."

"When they did want something in return, what did they want?"

Harte jumped to his feet. "Objection. Relevance."

Magistrate Tine pursed his lips. "I'll allow it."

"Different things," said Peli.

"Isn't it true that they sometimes asked you to engage in sexual acts with them?"

Peli's answer was nearly inaudible. "Yes."

"Speak up, boy," said Councilman Greer.

"Yes!"

"Isn't that what you were waiting for, outside the Red Rooster? To meet someone who would pay you for sex?"

"No!" Peli was defiant.

"Isn't it true, Peli, that you are a prostitute--a pretty boy?"

"Objection." Harte stood. "The Councilman is badgering the witness."

"Councilman Greer. I think you have made your point." Magistrate Tine waived a hand. "Move on."

* * *

Councilman Walford summoned Harte to his chamber in the town hall when the winter sun had barely risen. It was not clear from the note whether this was court or family business so Harte dressed in his lawyer's black. Instead of the formal entrance to Councilman Walford's chamber where a clerk presided, he used another small doorway that opened directly into his father's chamber, knocking as he pushed the door open. Inside, Harte found Councilman Walford and another, plumper councilman seated at opposite ends of the couch that occupied one wall of the room. The tableau the two men presented reminded Harte of the story paintings the church used for teaching children the saint's histories. Councilman Walford was turned sideways towards the other man, with leg drawn up on the cushion. He was leaning forward, captured in a moment of urgent persuasion. The other councilman was facing forward with his stout legs planted square in front of him and his head turned slightly away from Councilman Walford. On Harte's intrusion, both turned sharply, their faces guarded.

"Were you not taught to knock before entering?" Councilman Walford's tone was deceptively quiet.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to interrupt. Perhaps I should return at a more convenient moment?"

"No, no," said the visiting councilman. "I'm sure your business with your father is more urgent." The councilman heaved himself to his feet and made rapidly for the formal entrance.

When he was gone, Councilman Walford turned his hooded eyes towards his son. "That was ill-timed, Son. Given time, I might have persuaded him to vote with me."

"On what issue?"

"You."

Harte smiled grimly. "Surely Councilman Greer will not act prior to his son's conviction."

"Probably not, but that in no way prevents him from salting your fields."

Harte's voice harsh in his ears. "What does it matter? I have no future here. You know it. I know it. Why do you concern yourself?"

Councilman Walford looked as bemused as if he had found a daisy growing in his chamber pot. "You are my son. Am I to ignore his crude insinuations? Do you know that old boar has been suggesting to anyone who will listen--with his jowls sagging in weariness at the sad state of the world--that your prosecution may be motivated by some kind of prior relationship with the boy who died? How would you have me behave in the face of such filthy lies?"

Harte found the blood rushing to his face even as he experienced a sense of relief. "Is that what you called me here to discuss? His seedy attacks on my character? Well you needn't trouble yourself to deny anything on my behalf. He might just as well have been right about Raf. The boy was beautiful. Who knows what I might have done, had I met him before Brin did."

Councilman Magistrate Walford's face became a leather mask. "I do not want to see that degenerate judge in my house again."

He knows about me and Stilian.
The thought of telling him had been a terrible weight. How long had he known? "You shall see him gone soon enough--and me with him." It was more than Harte could bear to look at his father's face. He turned and stalked from the room.