and Captain Bedford. Perhaps by threatening him, he would keep his distance.'
'Did this happen?'
'No.'
'So we have only your word that these statements were not actual threats, but an effort to… what did you say, 'create distance'?'
'That is correct,' Scott answered sharply.
Walker Townsend nodded, but the motion clearly implied that he understood something the opposite of what Scott had said.
'And on the night of Captain Bedford's murder, lieutenant, you do not deny rising from your bunk and being abroad in the corridor of Hut 101, do you?'
'No. That, too, is true.'
'All right. Now sir, you do not deny that you have the strength to have lifted the body of Captain Bedford and carried him some distance-'
'I did not do this…' Scott interrupted.
'But do you have the strength, lieutenant?'
Lincoln Scott paused, thought for a second, then replied, 'Yes. I do have the strength. And with either arm, captain, and over either shoulder, as well, if I may anticipate your next question.'
Walker Townsend smiled slightly, nodding.
'Thank you, lieutenant. You most certainly did. Now, let's discuss motive for a moment. You do not hide your contempt for Captain Bedford, even in death, do you, sir?'
'No. That is correct.'
'You would say your life has improved by his death, true?'
It was Scott's turn to smile faintly.
'Well, you probably want to rephrase that question, captain. Is my life better because I no longer have to confront the cracker bastard every day… well, yes. But this is an illusory advantage, captain, when one's days may very well be limited by a firing squad.'
Walker Townsend nodded.
'I concede your point, lieutenant.
But you do not deny that every day the two of you existed in this camp together, that Vincent Bedford provided you with a motive to kill him, do you?'
Scott shook his head.
'No, captain, that is not correct.
Captain Bedford's actions provided me with a motive to hate him and what he stood for. They provided me with a motive to confront him, to show him that I would not be cowed or intimidated by his racist statements. Even when he tried to get me to cross the deadline to retrieve that softball, which could have cost me my life were it not for Lieutenant Hart's shout of warning, still, that act and the others provided me with a motive to fight Captain Bedford. Fighting and confrontation and a refusal to shuck and shuffle and accept his behavior passively do not constitute a motive to murder, captain, despite your need to twist it into one.'
'But you did hate him…'
'We do not always kill what we hate, captain. Nor do we always hate what we kill.'
Townsend did not follow up immediately with another question, and a momentary silence shifted onto the courtroom.
Tommy had just enough time to think that Scott was doing quite well, when a strident voice burst from the crowd at his back, searing across the room.
'Liar! Lying black bastard!' There was an unmistakable southern accent marring each of the words.
'Killer! Goddamn lying murderer!' a second voice shouted out from a different section of the audience.
And then, just as rapidly, a third cry, only this time the words seemed directed at the men who'd first shouted.
'It's the truth!' someone yelled.
'Can't you tell the truth when you hear it?' These words had a Boston flat A tone that Tommy recognized from his days at Harvard.
In a corner of the theater, there was a scuffling sound, and pushing and shoving. As Tommy pivoted, staring back into the mix ofkriegies, he saw a couple of fliers suddenly chest to chest. Within seconds the noise of anger and confrontation erupted in more than one spot in the large room, and jam-packed men started to push and gesture. It seemed almost as if three or four fights were about to break out before Colonel MacNamara started to crash his gavel down furiously, the hammering noise punctuating the cascade of angry voices.
'Damn it! Order!' MacNamara cried out.
'I will clear this court if you cannot maintain discipline!'
The room seemed to glow red for an instant, continuing to throb before settling into an uneasy quiet.
Colonel MacNamara allowed the tense silence to continue, before he threatened the crowd ofkriegies again.
'I recognize that there are differences of opinion, and that feelings are strong,' he said flatly.
'But we must remain orderly! A military trial must be a public event, for all to witness! I warn you men, do not make me take steps to control any further outbursts before they should happen!'
Then MacNamara did something that, to Tommy's eyes, seemed unusual. The SAO briefly turned toward Commandant Von Reiter, and said, 'This is exactly what I have repeatedly warned you about, Herr Oberst Von Reiter nodded his head in acknowledgment of what MacNamara said. Then the SAO turned back to Walker Townsend, and made a small gesture for the prosecutor to continue.
Something else struck Tommy in that second. Every other time there had been even the slightest disruption in the proceedings, MacNamara had been furiously quick with his gavel. In fact. Tommy thought, the one thing that MacNamara seemed most capable of doing was slamming that gavel onto the table, because he certainly wasn't astute about the law or criminal procedures. This time, however, it almost seemed to Tommy as if the SAO had waited until after the first outburst, and that MacNamara had allowed the tensions to bubble close to the boil-over point, before demanding order. It was, to Tommy's mind, almost as if MacNamara had expected the outburst.
He considered this most curious, but did not have the time to reflect further, as Walker Townsend immediately launched into another question.
'What you want. Lieutenant Scott, is for this tribunal, and for all the men gathered here listening to you, what you want all of us to believe is that on the night of Captain Bedford's death, at some point after you went out to the corridor, and were seen skulking around in the dark, that you returned to your bunk and did not notice that some unknown person had removed your flight jacket and boots from their customary locations, and had stolen this sword you constructed from your kit, taken these items and utilized them in the murder of Captain Bedford and then returned them to your room, and that subsequently you did not observe the blood staining them?
This is what you want us all to believe, is it not, lieutenant?'
Scott paused, then responded firmly.
'Yes. Precisely.'
'Lies!' shouted out a voice from the back, ignoring MacNamara's warning.
'Let him talk!' came the almost instant reply.
The SAO reached for the gavel again, but a grudging silence crept back into the courtroom.
'You don't think that's far-fetched, lieutenant?'
'I don't know, captain. I have not now, nor have I ever committed a murder! So I have no experience. You, sir, on the other hand, have prosecuted numerous murder cases. Perhaps you should provide us with the answer. Have none of the cases you've prosecuted ever been unusual? Surprising?
