The Accused (49 page)

“I do have a question to ask you—and if I do not ask it, I am certain the prosecutor's office will be sure to ask it. Here it is—why would an influential member of the Mexican government place himself in a safe house together with known terrorists immediately after the aborted kidnapping of the American Secretary of Commerce? Wouldn't that have been a very risky thing for that official to do?”

“Exactly,” Marlowe answered quickly. “But there's a reason why I believed this Mexican official, in particular, might have been willing to assume the risk.”

“And what reason was that?”

“We had word about the planning of an attack against the United States—that this official had sensitive information that was being delivered to Abu Adis directly. It was such a critical piece of information that I believed this individual would have risked apprehension in order to deliver this information in person to Adis, rather than trying to transmit it through a third party—or via telephone, which can be monitored—or via a cell phone, which can be monitored even more easily.”

“So that is why you felt there might be
one
civilian present—one who was a co-conspirator with a terrorist cell group that had intentions to make some sort of strike against the United States?”

“Yes, sir. That's exactly what I thought when I gave the order for the assault to commence.”

Will knew there was nothing more he could do. He rested his cross-examination and yielded the podium to Les Forges.

“But,” the prosecutor stated quietly, “your assumptions about who was in the house—that it might be a co-conspirator with the AAJ—those assumptions were absolutely incorrect, weren't they?”

Marlowe knew the truth. And he would speak it.

“Yes, ma'am. My assumptions were entirely incorrect.”

After Marlowe's testimony, there was only one other item of business for the defense case. Will asked the court to receive into evidence
the entire transcript of the deposition of Damon Lynch, taken in the jail in Mexico City.

Les Forges objected vehemently, spitting out her words like an automatic weapon, arguing that Lynch had not been listed originally on the list of witnesses presented by the defense—and that the circumstances of his testimony were inherently unreliable. Then she landed the lowest blow of all.

“Your Honors, to show the unreliability of this testimony, you need only know that Mr. Chambers was so desperate to use Mr. Lynch's lies that he struck a deal with him. Mr. Chambers agreed, as the transcript of the deposition will reveal, to let Lynch escape the consequences of his participation in the murder of Chambers' own first wife, Audra Chambers, in return for his testimony.”

The three judges sat bug-eyed, and then Judge Korlov responded.

“This is most outrageous, Mr. Chambers,” the presiding judge said, drumming the fingers of both hands on the bench. “This is most troubling. By what darkened logic did you arrive at a decision to bargain with this Mr. Lynch, even though he was apparently involved in the death of your own wife?”

Will had spent his entire adult life in courtrooms around America. He was rarely at a loss for words…but then, at that moment, utterance escaped him. After a protracted period of silence, he addressed the tribunal.

“I believe it was the French philosopher Pascal who said that the human heart has reasons which reason cannot know. To answer you, Your Honor, this was not a matter of logic. It was a matter of sacrifice. And perhaps even of forgiveness, as strange as that may sound. My desire for revenge upon and punishment for Damon Lynch needed to be sacrificed in order to overcome evil with good.”

“Good?” Judge Ponti exclaimed. “What good could you possibly be talking about?!”

“The good of the truth—that you three judges would know the truth about the identity of the Mexican official who conspired to set a trap for Colonel Marlowe and caused the death of four innocent individuals. The truth I hope will motivate your sense of justice—and your decision to acquit Colonel Marlowe. I have no explanation other than that.”

After the three judges quietly conferred, Judge Korlov addressed the lawyers.

“We will allow the transcript of the deposition of Damon Lynch to come into evidence. But with the understanding that we are inclined to view his comments with a high degree of suspicion, if not contempt.”

Will made the perfunctory motion for dismissal of the proceedings in favor of acquittal, and Korlov indicated that they would defer decision on that. He was about to make another comment when he saw something that stopped him. A clerk hurriedly approached the bench and passed a letter to him.

Korlov took his time reading the note, and then started urgently whispering to his colleagues. The whispering continued among them, and the faces of all three became animated. Five minutes turned into ten minutes. Then twenty minutes. Whatever it was they were discussing, it seemed to center on the letter.

Finally, the presiding judge clicked his microphone back on. He leaned forward.

“This proceeding is adjourned for five hours. All lawyers and personnel are to be present again in five hours.”

The courtroom rose as the judges quickly disappeared through the doors of their chambers.

Les Forges packed up her briefcase with an air of smugness. Will took a few steps toward her and extended his right hand.

“May justice be done.”

The prosecutor took his hand limply, offered a half-smile, and then turned and exited the courtroom with her assistants.

76

A
FTER THE SESSION WAS ADJOURNED
, the bailiffs permitted Will to spend some time talking with Caleb Marlowe alone in the courtroom.

His client wanted to know, of course, why the judges had so abruptly adjourned for a short period. The attorney could only surmise that an exigency had arisen in another case that would require them to participate in an emergency hearing lasting several hours.

Final closing arguments had yet to be heard. Judging by the lateness of the day, Will assumed that the court, when it reconvened, would schedule closing arguments for the following day. And then it would inform the participants of its schedule for deliberations and for announcing the release of its decision on the case.

Marlowe wanted to know Will's assessment of his testimony. The attorney assured him that no witness had ever performed more truthfully, nor more effectively.

As the two then chatted about a few personal things, the colonel said that the only positive point about his confinement was the quality of the food—which he found surprisingly good.

Will then asked a question, offhandedly.

“So—if we're blessed with an acquittal in this case, what are you going to do with your life?”

His client smiled and thought about it for a minute.

“I expect I'll be traveling. Quite a bit. Maybe I'll revisit Chichén Itzá.”

Will looked at him, thunderstruck. Then a wry smile broke out on Marlowe's face.

“For a minute there, I thought you were serious,” Will commented.

“Oh, I am. I think that's a fascinating place to visit as a tourist—
el cenote sagrado—
the great sacrificial well where the Mayans threw in
human beings to satisfy their gods. You saw that place, didn't you, when you went down to investigate?”

“Yes, though I didn't have too much time to linger. I walked past it with Pancho on the way over to the house.”

“It is interesting,” Marlowe mused, “how even the pagans who lived hundreds of years ago in the jungles of Mexico understood the necessity of a blood sacrifice to appease a deity whose sense of justice had been offended.”

“Yes, I thought about that. Where they went wrong was in the presumption that humans could ever make a sacrifice good enough to cover their own sins. And as we both know, only the sacrificial Lamb was capable of doing that.”

Will decided he would walk back to the hotel. His client would have to go back to his jail cell for a few hours. Before the two separated, Marlowe handed a blank white envelope, sealed, to the other man.

“When we win this case—and I believe we will—you can open this and read it. Not until then.”

Another mystery from his enigmatic client. Will took it and headed down the street to his hotel room. The air was clear and warm, and the tulips were in bloom, filling big baskets in front of several shops. The horse-drawn taxis were out in full force, clip-clopping down the medieval streets. In spite of all the charm of the old-world atmosphere, though, he was suddenly aware of how homesick he was for the sweet smell of wildflowers at his Virginia home.

Jacki Johnson and Len Redgrove were going to catch an early dinner and they invited Will, but he declined. He would go back to his room and call Fiona so they could catch up a little on their life together. Then he would ask for a wake-up call in a few hours and collapse on the bed for a nap. The prolonged schedule of sleep deprivation was starting to really get to him.

Exactly five hours after the court had adjourned, Will, Professor Redgrove, and Jacki were seated at counsel table. Caleb Marlowe was brought in and seated next to Will. Les Forges and her entourage arrived. The prosecutor looked slightly distracted, and strangely agitated.

A few more minutes went by, and then the door to the chambers opened and the three judges, in their robes, assumed the bench.

Judge Korlov quickly rubbed his eyes, sighed, and then moved closer to the microphone.

“Reconvening now the matter of Colonel Caleb Marlowe, accused. Are all parties present with their legal counsel?”

Les Forges snapped to her feet and acknowledged she was ready to proceed. Will Chambers followed, acknowledging the presence of Caleb Marlowe, and indicated he was ready to proceed as well.

Then Korlov started speaking. It appeared that he had some notes in front of him, and he glanced at them as he spoke.

“There are some preliminary matters that need to be disposed of. First of all, co-counsel for the defense argued, at the beginning of this case, that this court did not have jurisdiction. That the United States had made a genuine effort to prosecute Caleb Marlowe, and for that reason, this court was precluded from hearing this case—and that the case against Colonel Marlowe was therefore inadmissible. We hasten to disagree with that argument, and we deny the motion to dismiss for lack of jurisdiction.”

Will was not surprised, though when he turned and gave a reassuring look to Redgrove, the law professor was clearly disappointed.

“Also, we feel that it is an opportune time for us to dispose of defense counsel's arguments in favor of acquittal and dismissal at the end of the evidence. We will not be reciting, in any detail, the factual record or the evidence that has come in throughout this trial.”

The presiding judge paused again and rubbed the bushy eyebrow over his right eye. Then he continued.

“We mention only, however, one very small piece of evidence—the testimony of Colonel Caleb Marlowe relating to his opinion—as a military officer, and obviously not as a legal expert—that his mission at Chacmool, Mexico, was
not
part of an ‘international armed conflict.' We are not bound by the opinions of laypersons—particularly, that of the accused in a war-crimes case as to whether or not he believes he is engaged in an international armed conflict.”

As Korlov halted again for a moment, it seemed to Will he was belaboring the obvious. The court was not going to rely on Marlowe's self-proclaimed defense that he didn't consider the conflict to be of an
“international” character under paragraph iv of Article 8, Section 2(b) of the War Crimes Criminal Code.

“So, this tribunal does not rely upon the accused's own proclamation that paragraph iv of the elements of the crime was not satisfied. What is important is
not
what Colonel Marlowe said in his testimony regarding that.”

Glancing over at his client, Will could see that he was struggling to figure out where the judge was going in his remarks, but without success.

“What is important, rather,” Judge Korlov continued, this time slightly twisting some of the hairs of his bushy eyebrows between his fingers, “is what testimony
did not
occur during the evidence portion of the trial.”

Suddenly, it was as if someone spoke…faintly.

Somewhere in the recesses of Will's thinking patterns—that hidden place where law-school professors say they are forming a “lawyer's mind” in their students, something slightly distinct from the thought processes of the rest of the human race—Will could hear a voice.

And that small voice was saying that—somehow—all hope had not been lost. Not yet.

77

A
FTER CLEARING HIS THROAT AND
glancing down at his notes, Judge Korlov continued.

“What we did not hear—nor did we expect to hear—was testimony relating to the international aspects of the armed conflict involved in this case. The basic facts surrounding the actions of the BATCOM unit and Colonel Marlowe, on behalf of the United States of America within the sovereign territory of the nation–state of Mexico, are essentially uncontroverted. They are not contradicted. They seem to be assumed by all parties.