'And what might that be?' he inquired cynically.
'Major Clark is a member of the prosecution. I would think that fact alone would preclude him from testifying in this matter, colonel.'
MacNamara shook his head.
'Probably back home, yes.
But here, due to the exigencies and uniqueness of our situation, I will allow both sides some latitude in who they call to the stand. Major
Clark's role in the case was more akin to investigating officer.
Objection is overruled.'
'Then I have a second objection, colonel.'
MacNamara looked slightly exasperated.
'And that would be what, lieutenant?'
'I would object to Major Clark describing the history of his arrival here. Major Clark's courage on the battlefield is not at issue. The only point it serves is to create an exaggerated sense of credibility for the major. But, as the colonel is well aware, brave men are capable of lying, just as easily as cowards are, sir.'
MacNamara glared at Tommy. Major Clark's face was set and hard. Tommy knew the major would take what he had just said as an insult, which was precisely what he had intended.
The colonel took a deep breath before replying.
'Do not reach beyond your grasp, lieutenant. Objection remains overruled. Captain, please continue.'
Walker Townsend smiled briefly.
'I would think that the tribunal might censure the lieutenant, sir, for impugning the integrity of a brother officer…'
'Just continue, captain,' MacNamara growled.
Townsend nodded, and turned back to Major Clark.
'Tell us, please, major, how you happened to arrive here.'
Tommy sat back, listening closely, as Major Clark described the bombing raid that resulted in his plane crash-landing. Clark was neither boasting nor modest. What he was, was accurate, disciplined, and precise. At one point, he declined to describe the B-17's ability to maneuver on one engine, because, he said, that information was technical and might serve the enemy. He said this and gestured toward Heinrich Visser. One thing did emerge that Tommy found intriguing, if not critical. It turned out that Visser was the major's first interrogator, before being released into the camp. Visser had been the man asking questions that Clark refused to answer, questions about the capabilities of the aircraft and strategies of the air corps. These had been standard questions, and all fliers knew to answer solely with their name, rank, and serial number. They also knew that the men who demanded these answers were security police, regardless of how they identified themselves. But what Tommy found interesting was that Clark, and therefore the other high-ranking members of the American camp, were well aware of Visser's dual allegiances.
Tommy snuck a glance at the one-armed German. Visser was listening intently to Major Clark.
'So, major,' Walker Townsend suddenly boomed, 'did there come a time when, as part of your official duties, you were called to investigate the murder of Captain Vincent Bedford?'
Tommy swung his eyes over to the witness. Here it comes, he thought to himself.
'Yes. Correct.'
'Tell us how that came about.'
For a moment. Major Clark turned toward the defense table, fixing
Tommy, then Lincoln Scott, with a harsh, unforgiving glare. Then, slowly, he launched into his story, lifting his voice, so that it coursed past Captain Townsend, and reached out to every kriegie in the audience, and all those hanging by the windows and doors, Clark described being awakened in the predawn hours by the ferret's alarm-he did not identify Fritz Number One as the ferret who discovered the body-and how he had carefully entered the Abort and first seen Vincent
Bedford's corpse. He told the assembly that the very first and only suspect had been Lincoln Scott, based on the prior bad blood, animosity, and fights between the two men. He also told how he had spotted the telltale crimson blood spatters on the toes of Scott's flight boots and on the left-hand shoulder and sleeve of his leather jacket, when the black airman had been confronted in Commandant Von Reiter's office. The other elements of the case, Clark said, fell into place rapidly. Trader Vic's roommates had told of Scott's construction of the murder weapon, and informed him about the hiding place beneath the floorboards where it had been concealed.
Clark stitched each element of the prosecution's case into a single tapestry. He spoke at length, steadily, persuasively, with bull doglike determination, as he gave context to all the other witnesses.
Tommy did not object to the major's words, nor to the damning portrait he created. He knew one thing: The major, for all his stiffness and military rigidity, was a fighter, much like Lincoln Scott. If Tommy battled him on every point, with a series of objections, he would respond like an athlete; each little struggle would only serve to make him stronger and more determined to reach the goal.
But cross-examination was a different matter.
As Major Clark finished his testimony. Tommy lay in wait, feeling for all the world like a cobra in the high grass. He knew what he was required to do. One single weakness in the steady, convincing story the major told. Just attack that one critical point and expose it for a lie, then the rest will crumble. At least that was what he hoped, and he knew where he was going to strike. Had known since the first minute he'd examined the evidence.
He stole a sideways glance over at Scott. The black airman was fingering the stub of the pencil again. Tommy watched as Scott suddenly took the pencil and wrote on one of the precious scrap pieces of paper the single word: Why.
It was a good question. Tommy thought. One that still eluded him.
'One last question. Major Clark,' Walker Townsend was saying.
'Do you have any personal animosity toward Lieutenant Scott, or toward members of the Negro race, in general?'
'Objection!'
Colonel MacNamara nodded toward Tommy Hart.
'The lieutenant is correct, captain,' he admonished Townsend.
'The question is self-serving and irrelevant.'
Captain Townsend smiled.
'Well, perhaps self-serving, colonel,' he responded.
'But hardly irrelevant, I would wager.'
He said this as he turned toward the audience, playing the moment for the assembled kriegies. It was not necessary for Major Clark to have answered the question. Merely by asking it, Townsend had answered it for him.
'Do you have other questions, captain?' MacNamara asked.
'No sir!' Townsend replied, snapping his words like a salute.
'Your witness, lieutenant.'
Tommy rose slowly, moving out from behind the defense's table with patience. He looked over at Major Clark and saw that the witness was sitting forward in his seat, eagerly anticipating the first question.
'Do you have, major, any particular expertise in criminal investigations?'
Major Clark paused, before responding.
'No, lieutenant. But every senior officer in the army is accustomed to investigating disputes and conflicts between men under our command. We are trained to determine the truth in these situations. A murder, while unusual, is merely an extension of a dispute. The process is the same.'
'Quite an extension, I'd say.'
Major Clark shrugged.
