We Were Beautiful Once (41 page)

Nick jumped up.  “Your Honor, compound question, and Mr. Harris is testifying—he's not letting the witness get an answer in edgewise.”

Harris interjected before Lindquist could rule. “Strike the last question. Sir, without prying into your personal life, can you tell us why you're on medication today?”

“Pain.”

“I assumed so. But from what?”

“Cancer, sir, cancer. Cancer caused by poison metal.”

“Poison metal. I don't understand—can you elaborate?”

“Metals used in 'copters. I used to machine stuff that caused the cancer.”

“You're not involved in any lawsuit because of your illness, are you?”

“Worker's comp, that's all.  But the 'copter companies are the ones that caused my sickness, no doubt.”

“You hold these companies responsible for your cancer?” Harris asked with a hint of sarcasm.

“Yes, sir, all those 'copter ones.”

Harris turned to Lindquist. “Your Honor, may I have a moment to confer with my colleagues?”

Lindquist looked at the clock over the jury box.  “Proceed, but make it short, please.”

Harris and his cohorts put their heads together; Nick imagined the conversation had to do with the mention of helicopters.  He figured that Harris wanted to ask more, but the first rule of cross examination is not to ask a question that you don't already know the answer to.  Harris walked back to the podium.

“Mr. Preston, may I ask if you have ever met Mr. Trent Hamilton?”

“No, don't think so.”

Harris breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you know who he is?”

“Only what I read in the papers last couple of weeks, when he testified here.”

Now Harris had a bonus question he could ask—one that could not hurt, but could potentially help.  “But, sir, you claim that helicopter companies like Mr. Hamilton's are responsible for your cancer, isn't that true?”

“Yes, sir, that's true.”

“Isn't it true that you have come here to testify because somehow you believe your testimony will reflect poorly on Mr. Hamilton?”

“Sir, that's ridicu—”

“In some way to get back at his helicopter company?”

Nick jumped up. “Objection, argumentative.”

“Withdrawn, no further questions.”

“Do you wish to redirect, Mr. Castalano?”

“No, your Honor.”

“Have you any more witnesses?”

 “Yes, your Honor, plaintiff re-calls Mr. Jack Prado.”

Lindquist looked at the marshal, “Let's take our lunch break first.”

***

Harris opened the door to his second floor war room and was greeted by the secretary. “Mr. Harris, this envelope was on my desk, addressed to you.”

Harris opened it. There were a dozen photos of people in a pit—obviously dead— bulldozers, a U.S. Army vehicle with men inside. One picture contained an arrow someone had penned in, pointing to a man leaning against a car. His next move was to have the secretary put a call through to Undersecretary Russell.  

“Russell, I have  a dozen photos somebody dropped off—you know, like the ones we talked about...  There's an arrow pointing to a guy, a second louey, looks like.  Well not sure...  Yes, sir, I'll get to the bottom, ask what they're looking for.”  

***

Following the break, Jack assumed the witness stand. As he looked out at the crowd he realized that the stiff shot of gin he had for lunch would not control the shakes that coursed through his body all morning or quench  the memories that like a fire-breathing dragon had been wakened from a thirty year sleep  by Preston's testimony.

“You already testified in this case, so you're still under oath. Do you understand?” Lindquist warned.

“Yeah...  ah, yes, sir.” Jack responded, nervously.

“Your Honor, plaintiff requests permission to treat Mr. Prado as an adversarial witness at this time.”

Lindquist raised his eyebrows. “Well, Counsel, I suppose you have your reasons. Permission granted, unless Mr. Harris wants to be heard.”

Harris frowned. “No, the government has no objection.”

“Mr. Prado, you previously testified you were in North Korea from late 1950 until after hostilities ended, is that not true, sir?”

Lindquist noticed Jack's hand tremble when he dabbed his brow with a brown paper towel. “Are you all right, Mr. Prado?”

Jack did not respond.

“Are you all right, Mr. Prado?”  Lindquist repeated, louder now.

Jack's lungs grew tight, his heart pounded.  “Can I have a minute?”

 Lindquist shook his head slowly.  “Is that enough time, Mr. Prado?”

 
“Yes, thanks.”  Jack blew in and out, trying to control his breath.  Droplets of sweat had formed on his forehead.  His hands were shaking again.  

“Can we resume, Mr. Prado?” Hearing Lindquist, Jack opened his eyes.  A hundred people were watching, including Father Ryan. And Julie.

“Yes, yes, I'm fine.”

Nick continued, “I'll try and be brief. I'm going to show you Plaintiff's Exhibits B-2, which you've seen before, correct?”

“Yes, you showed me some maps when we met.”

Nick tacked B-2 to the easel. “Can you identify what this is a map of?”

“As I stated before, I cannot definitely say.”

“But you have seen the marks placed on this map before?”

“What marks?”

Nick pointed to the “hexagons within hexagons” marked along the road. “These hexagons.”

“Never tied to a map, no.”

“Have you ever seen such a mark before, in connection with anything?”

“Sure, I've seen that kind a mark before. Plenty of times.”

“Mr. Prado, it is not true that this mark was the trademark for S-84 Hamilton Helicopter in the mid-1950s when you started working there?”

Jack felt his breath shorten, his legs turn gelatinously weak.

“Are you all right, Mr. Prado?”

Jack's lips tightened.

“Mr. Prado, I asked a question...  ” Nick paused and turned to the stenographer. “Madam Stenographer, please read back my last question.”

“Question: ‘Mr. Prado, it is not true that this mark was the trademark for S-84 Hamilton Helicopter in the mid-1950s when you started working there?'”

 “Sir, please answer the question.”

“Yes, come to think of it, Hamilton used that mark.”

“Mr. Prado, would you know why these marks were drawn on this map?”

“No, sir.”

“Your Honor, if I may, I need to confer with my colleagues for a minute.”

The judge raised his eyebrows, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, “Yes, go ahead.”

Nick walked over to Kathy and whispered, “Prado knows what the little ‘hexes' mean. Let me have that line we drew up yesterday.” Nick returned to the lectern.

“You know Trent Hamilton, do you not?”

 Eyes wide open now, Jack answered, “Yes, I do.”

“And knew him before the war?”

Jack hesitated. “Yes, sir.”

“And while you were in Camp 13?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And knew him after the war?

“Uh, yeah.”

“You went to college with Hamilton?”

Nick saw Jack looking for someone in the crowd. “Yes.”

“You went to ROTC with Hamilton?”

“Right.”

“You joined the Army together?”

“Yes.”

“You were cashiered out of the officer ranks when you were involved in an automobile homicide?”

“No, that's not...  ” Nick saw Jack unnerved. “That's not true, it didn't happen that way!” Jack shouted.

Harris did not like the speed with which Nick was buzzing through the cross-examination. “Objection! What does this have to do with this case, your Honor? Mr. Castalano is impugning the character of a man that has nothing to do with this case!”

This slowed Nick down.

“Withdraw the question,” Nick replied.

Lindquist squinted. “Sir, unless you have a good faith basis for calling into question anyone's reputation in my courtroom, I will sanction you, keep that in mind.”

“Mr. Prado, please tell the court how many times you saw Hamilton when you were in Camp 13?”

“A few times.”

“In what kind of situations did you run across Lieutenant Hamilton?”

“I would often see him on the grounds walking from his barracks to the day room.”

“Isn't that where the North Koreans and, later on the Chinese, ran operations.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why would any POW go to the day room?”

“Every day there were indoctrinations and just about everyone had to attend at one point or another. The commies were trying to get us to, well, to believe that America was evil...  that communism was good.”

“Was this voluntary?”

“No, had to.”

“And isn't it true, that you were indoctrinated so well that you didn't return with your fellow soldiers after the war?”

“No, that was not the reason I returned late. I was sick.”

“You mean physically?”

Jack hesitated. “No, a breakdown.”

“Were there other American soldiers that were with you after the POWs were repatriated in August 1953?”

“Yes, there were a half, maybe a dozen, yes, a dozen or so that I knew about.”

“And in this courtroom, Mr. Harris showed you your DD 214 indicating you received a dishonorable discharge!”

“I did, but it was changed.”

Nick took a breath. “Is it not true that Mr. Hamilton was instrumental in pulling strings to get your discharge upgraded?”

“Yes, sir, the company I worked for.”

“You couldn't work at Hamilton Helicopters with a dishonorable, could you?”

“Couldn't get by the security clearance, no.”

“Let me go back to your contact with Lieutenant Hamilton in Camp 13. You say you observed him in the day room?”

“Occasionally, I did.”

“And what would he be doing?”

“It's been so long ago, I don't recall any particular instance.”

“But is it not true he had been friendly with one or more of the Chinese in charge?”

“Had that feeling, back then.”

“Were there others in the camp that believed Lieutenant Hamilton was friendly with the Chinese?”

“Yes.”

“How did they come to that conclusion?”

Harris jumped up. “Objection.  Calls for hearsay.”

Wanting to hear more, Lindquist ruled quickly. “I will allow it. Please answer, Mr. Prado.”

“Hamilton spoke Chinese, and for some that was enough.”

“And what would be the talk among the other POWs?”

Harris quickly rose from behind his table. “Objection—hearsay.”

“Sustained.”

“Mr. Prado, I am going to show you Map B-2, and ask you when was the very first time you saw such a map.”

“I saw it in a dayroom, in Camp 13.”

“The room that the Chinese used to grill the POWs in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did the map have the little hexagon symbols on it?”

“Can't be sure after all these years.”

“And you did see Lieutenant Hamilton in the dayroom?”

“Yes, sir, on occasion, as I indicated to you.”

“Did you know if the Chinese or the NK ever used POWs to do anything connected with military operations?”

“No, not really.”

“I don't mean take up arms, but did they enlist or force POWs to be used as cover for them?”

“Yes, that they did, like when we were force-marched from where we were captured, to our final destination—to the camp.  Many times we were put out in front, in case they were fired upon, or when our planes were overhead.”

“Any other times, after you were in the prison camp?”

“Like Mr. Preston said, groups were forced to clear minefields.”

“I am going to show you Plaintiff's Exhibit ABR entitled
Summary of Interrogatory Respondent, John Millers.
Please read it to yourself, sir.” After a minute, Nick asked Jack, “Mr. Prado, please tell the court what the memo refers to.”

“Corporal Millers, in August 1953, tells a U.N. interrogator that there were rumors of POWs being used to clear minefields in North Korea.”

“What, if anything, can you tell us about those kinds of operations?”

“The U.N. had laid land mines at some point south of the camps. At least, that's what I recall. Supposed to be escape routes.”

“And, sir, is it not true that the very map you have in front of you shows the minefields designated with the symbol we have been referring to as a hexagon?”

“Don't know that for sure.”  

“Is it not true that the symbol on the map is the same symbol that Hamilton Helicopters used as a trademark?”

“Yes, similar.”

“And, sir, if it is the same symbol, the only individuals who might have made those marks are either you or Lieutenant Hamilton?”

“Objection, calls for speculation!” Harris shouted from his chair.

“Sustained. And Counsel, I expect you to stand when you address this court,” Lindquist admonished Harris.

Jack continued, “I do not understand your reasoning, I did not...  ”

Harris interrupted. “You need not answer, Mr. Prado.”

Nick turned to Lindquist. “Your Honor, either this witness or someone at Hamilton Helicopters would have made the marks—otherwise how could they be the same?  Especially coming after the war in the form of a trademark?”

Harris abruptly rose to his feet. “Same objection. It's only speculation on this witness's part if and whether Hamilton Helicopters or Hamilton himself knew anything about the maps, the symbols or the so-called minefields.”

Lindquist did not address Harris's objection. He wanted to know what he could on this score. “Please answer the question, sir.”