you were exposed to. Then, when the evidence does come, we’ll have something to work with.”
He kneaded his temples and stared miserably at the table. I looked at my watch. It was nearly eleven-thirty. I said, “Tonight, think carefully about your actions over the past ten years. We’ll begin our questioning first thing in the morning.”
“I’m innocent,” he grumbled.
“Then fight to prove it. Get mad. Fight for your honor. Fight to see your family again.”
He looked up as though I’d just jarred his memory. “How’s Mary?”
“Fine. I stopped by her father’s house yesterday. She asked me to tell you she loves you.” Although that wasn’t really true, because now that I thought about it, she hadn’t said that. I added, “One more question… that father of hers, Homer?”
“What about him?”
“How can you stand that son of a bitch?”
He looked confused. “What are you talking about? Homer and I get along fine.”
Of course. Why had I even asked?
Once outside the prison and heading toward the car, Katrina, looking somewhat disapproving, said, “Your bedside manner sucked.”
“My manner was fine. You don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get?”
“He needed the shock treatment.”
“They teach you that in law school?”
“Our client is drowning in self-pity. Hard to detect, I know, but the clues were there.”
“And the shock treatment is supposed to… what?”
“To sober him to the realities of his situation.”
“But it has nothing to do with your dislike of our client?”
“Not a thing,” I replied, halfway believing myself. I asked, “And what about you? Was all that true? Everything you told him in there?”
“Everything?”
“Did you actually turn down Harvard Law?”
“I never applied. That’s the same thing, isn’t it?”
“And your IQ and won-lost record?”
“I might’ve gotten them mixed up.”
“Oh shit. Please tell me you really speak Russian.”
She smiled. “Are you questioning my integrity?”
Brian Haig
The Kingmaker
CHAPTER SIX
At 8:00 A.M., William Morrison was shackled to the table as Katrina flipped on the tape recorder she’d thoughtfully brought along. As with the night before, Morrison appeared moody and disgruntled, and like my whole life before this moment, I could barely stand to look at this pompous, bullying jerk.
I began, “Okay, General, start with this. If you’re innocent, why do you think they arrested you?”
“I told you, Drummond, I don’t fucking know. I never betrayed this country… I swear I didn’t.”
Katrina placed a hand on my arm and interjected, “We’re your attorneys. You’ve got our presumption of innocence. Help us think this through.”
“All right. Maybe somebody was jealous of me.”
Actually, I knew him, and he didn’t have my presumption of innocence, so I said, “Jealous enough to do this?” punctuating my words just so.
“Maybe… why not? Sure.”
Katrina quickly said, “Okay, it’s a possibility. Can you think of others?”
“I was framed.”
She asked, “By who?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be sitting here, would I?”
“Oh, Christ!” I exploded.
Katrina looked at him, then at me and asked, “Are you two enjoying this?”
I tried to look innocent. “Enjoying what?”
“This shit has to stop,” she said. “Why don’t I step out of the room so you two can pound the crap out of each other?”
Morrison said, “He needs to remember my rank. I won’t put up with his disrespectful attitude. He’s exploiting my position.”
I replied, “Oh, horseshit.”
“You,” she said, pointing at Morrison, “you asked him to be your attorney. Why?”
“I needed a JAG officer.”
“There are hundreds of JAG officers. You asked for him.”
“I was fucking desperate.”
“So desperate you asked for the guy who used to date your wife? Help me out here.”
“Okay, because he’s a prick… a first-rate prick. In a situation like mine, that’s what you look for. A real bastard.”
“It sounds to me like you know him well.” She began whirling an arm through the air, like she was reeling words out of his mouth. “Because you were with him in Lebanon and know he’s not a guy who’ll take no for an answer? And you know he’s tough and resourceful and smart, right?”
I smiled and nodded. That was me all right. No question about it-the girl had read me like a book.
“You’re overstating it.”
“Which part did I overstate?”
“All right,” he sullenly conceded. “I read about a few of his cases. I know he’s a good lawyer.”
“And you.” She wheeled that finger in my face. “Could we be having a macho pissing contest here?”
Now Morrison was smiling, and I replied, “Hell no.”
“Eddie Golden’s going to love you two.” She looked at him and explained, “He’s the stud they picked to prosecute you. Wait till you see him. The military has nine men on death row, and he made the reservations for four of them. You’re on his calendar as number five.”
This background had come from Imelda, I realized. She faced me and said, “And he’s got a six-month head start on you. Not to mention all those people he’s got working under him. So cut the shit.”
Wow. Morrison and I stared at each other.
Nobody spoke.
I finally asked, “So, sir, did you have any indication you were under suspicion?”
He replied, “Good question, Major. No, my first indication of this whole thing was the day they arrested me in Moscow.”
“You saw no signs, nobody hinted…?”
“Never.”
“Where were you assigned in 1988?”
He stared up at the ceiling. “That was the year before I got married… Washington.”
“Doing what?”
“Working at the CIA.”
“Isn’t that an unusual place for an Army officer to work?”
“Yes and no. Each year the Army selects a few officers to work in other intelligence agencies.” He couldn’t stop himself from adding, “It’s a plum job for elite officers.”
Did I really have to put up with this? “And where were you working in the CIA?” I politely inquired.
