Gunfight on the Alpha Centauri Express (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 5)
Page 24
“Same objection.”
“Sustained. Give it up, Miss Cross.”
“Yes, your Honor.”
She turned and walked a few feet away, then turned back, arms crossed.
“Did you kill Marshal Baker because you felt your life was in danger?”
“Yes.”
“Was there any other reason you killed him?”
“Yes.”
“And that was?”
“The girls. Based on the information available at that moment, it looked like he was about to return them to a state of slavery. I didn’t feel I could allow that.”
“And killing him was the only option?”
“Shooting him was the only option. I didn’t think it would kill him. I actually hoped to get some answers from him, but he didn’t survive the shot.”
“Marshal Walker, Ted Strong testified that you shot Steve Baker without provocation.”
“That’s not true.”
“He testified that you drew first.”
“Not true.”
“Are you saying that Ted Strong is lying?”
“Absolutely. He wasn’t even there.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“After I confirmed that Baker was dead, I went back to the office and talked to Yolanda. She said she saw the whole thing, but Strong wasn’t there.”
“Did you go looking for him?”
“No. Yolanda promised to tell Marshal Colwell what she had seen, and then I left. I wanted to get those girls out of there before anybody else tried to stop me.”
Victoria Cross nodded.
“Thank you. Now, tell us about Fred Ferguson.”
Nick winced reflexively. His tongue traced across his top lip.
“What about him?”
“Did you really shoot him in the ear?”
“Yes.”
“And why did you do that? Was he a threat to your life?”
“Not at that moment.”
“Was he ever a threat to your life?”
“Yes.”
“And when was that?”
“When he booby-trapped the shower in my hotel room.”
“And when did he do that?”
“Several days before I shot him.”
“When did you find out about the booby trap?”
“After it killed Misery Allen.”
“After? Not before?”
“After.”
“How did you feel about that?”
“How did I feel about Misery?”
“How did you feel about her death, and the manner of her death?”
Staring at the floor, he chewed his lip with the pain of memory. He looked up.
“At first I was devastated. Then I was angry.”
“Were you furious?”
“I was outraged.”
“Why? What was Misery Allen to you?”
“She was a friend.”
“A friend? Or a lover?”
“Both.”
“Were you in love with her?”
“No.”
“But you were sleeping with her?”
“Not exactly. We had one romantic encounter, and she died the next day.”
“Who, exactly, was Misery Allen?”
“She was a defense attorney working for the Federation Public Defender’s office on Ceres. She came from Ganymede and had never set foot on a real planet in her life. She was extremely smart, took law school and passed the bar on the SolarNet. She was just twenty-one years old.”
“Really? Twenty-one? She got her law degree on the SolarNet and passed the bar at twenty-one?”
Nick nodded. “Like I said, she was smart. And the sweetest girl I ever met on Ceres.”
“You felt protective toward her?”
“Of course. Any decent man would have.”
“And she died on your watch.”
“She died in my shower!” His face was turning red.
“And Fred Ferguson set the trap that killed her.”
“Yes.”
“How did the trap work?”
Nick heaved a deep sigh, his hands trembling.
“First it jammed the shower door so that, once she was inside, she couldn’t get out. Then it boiled her alive. Literally.”
A gasp shot through the courtroom and at least one woman released a sob.
Victoria, frowning, walked in front of Godney’s table and gazed down at her opponent.
“It…boiled…her…alive,” she repeated slowly, still looking at Godney. She turned back to Nick. “And that made you furious. I think you said ‘outraged’. Is that accurate?”
“Yes.”
“Was Misery Allen the intended target of the trap?”
“Speculation!” Godney chirped.
“Overruled.”
“No,” Nick said.
“Were you the intended target?”
“Objection.”
“Overruled.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Ferguson told me.”
“In the park?”
“Yes.”
“By the wall?”
“Yes.”
“When you shot him in the ear?”
“Yes.”
“Did Mr. Ferguson tell you this before or after you shot him in the ear?”
“Before.”
“Are you telling the Court that Mr. Ferguson confessed to you before you shot him?”
“Yes.”
Victoria approached him slowly, her blue eyes locked onto his face.
“Marshal Walker, did you shoot Fred Ferguson in the ear because you were angry?”
“Partly.”
“Did you shoot him because you were angry that he had tried to kill you with his booby trap?”
“No.”
“Did you shoot him because you were angry that his booby trap had killed Misery Allen?”
He stared at her for a second in silence, then blinked.
“No. Yes.”
“No? Yes? Which is it, Marshal Walker?”
“Yes and no. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to kill him. All I could think of was how Misery had died, the panic she must have felt, the fear, the pain. It was all I could do to function. But that’s not why I shot him.”
“Then why did you shoot him?”
“I needed information and he wouldn’t talk.”
“What information did you need?”
“He told me he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant to kill her. He said someone sent him to do it and threatened to kill him if he failed. I wanted to know who sent him.”
“But he wouldn’t tell you?”
“No. He was terrified of whoever it was. He was more afraid of his boss than he was of me. I shot him to reverse that balance.”
“‘Reverse that balance’? Can you explain what you mean by that?”
“I figured that if he was afraid of whoever sent him, the only way I was going to find out who that was would be to make him more afraid of me. So I shot him in the ear.”
“You tortured him?”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“You shot him in the ear.”
“Yes.”
“Did he talk then?”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“I told him the next one would be in his…dick.”
Victoria glanced at the judge and asked the next question before he could interject.
“Did you actually shoot him in his…southerly parts?”
“No. He started talking before I had to.”
“If he hadn’t started talking when he did, were you prepared to shoot him there?”
Nick took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. He let out a ragged breath.
“I honestly don’t know. Probably. I was…out of control at that point.”
“You were out of control. Can you elaborate on that?”
Nick sucked air again. “I was upset, angry, stressed, and mourning my friend. Nothin
g I had seen in the war prepared me for what happened to Misery Allen, and I’ve never seen anything that horrible since. I needed to know who had ordered the killing, because I was looking for a missing woman who I suspected was being subjected to rape and torture, and Misery’s death just underscored the urgency. I had reason to believe that whoever ordered the booby trap was also responsible for the woman I was trying to find. Fred Ferguson was my only lead, and I had to get the information from him before I took him to jail.”
“Why? Why not interrogate him through normal channels?”
“Once he got to jail he would feel safe. There would be other officers there, maybe a lawyer, and his boss would bail him out. If any of that happened, I figured he would never talk, and the other girl might end up like Misery.”
Victoria stared at him in silence for ten seconds.
“So, to summarize, you are telling the Court that you shot Fred Ferguson in the ear, and threatened his more private organs, in order to save the life of the missing girl?”
“Objection, leading. She’s putting words in his mouth, your Honor.”
Victoria stared at the judge. “For crying out loud, your Honor!”
Judge Moore merely shrugged. “Sustained.”
Victoria looked at Nick. “Why did you shoot Fred Ferguson in the ear and threaten his more private organs?”
“To save the life of the missing girl.”
“Thank you. Nothing further at this time, your Honor. Reserve the right to redirect.”
“Your witness, Mr. Godney.”
Chapter 23
Brian Godney rose dramatically and adjusted a stack of papers on his table, then made a show of studying the top sheet before walking around the table toward the witness chair. As he approached Nick he smiled and drew himself up, looking like a pitchman for a cheap carnival. His hair gleamed, his shoes gleamed, his suit radiated wealth. He wore the air of a man who is about to receive an award for lifetime achievement. He seemed extremely pleased with himself.
He stopped six feet in front of Nick, squared his shoulders, and smiled.
“Well, well, well. Marshal Walker! Here we are at last.”
Nick played along. “Yes we are. I hope you’re as excited as I am.”
Godney laughed. “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Marshal. It may not last.”
“Nothing lasts forever.”
Victoria Cross stood briefly. “Is there a question on the table?”
Godney didn’t wait for the judge. He took a step back.
“Sorry, counselor, I was just making friends with your client.”
Victoria sat down.
“Marshal Walker, do you consider yourself a good man?”
“I try to be.”
“Objection, relevance?”
Godney glanced up at the judge.
“State of mind, your Honor.”
“Overruled.”
“Marshal Walker, do you consider yourself a fair man?”
“I try to be.”
“Always?”
“As much as possible.”
“Do you treat suspects fairly?”
“I think so.”
“Were you treating Fred Ferguson fairly when you shot him in the ear?”
“Objection!”
“Overruled.”
Victoria came to her feet. “Your Honor, it’s a stupid question!”
Judge Moore peered at her over his reading glasses and nodded.
“I know, but I want to hear the answer.”
Nick glanced at Victoria, then at the judge. Moore nodded at him. He faced Godney again.
“I think I testified earlier that I was out of control when I did that.”
“You were out of control.” Godney smirked. “How often do you get out of control?”
“Not very often.”
“Not very often. Let me ask you this, Marshal Walker—were you out of control when you killed twenty-five men, including a U.F. Marshal?”
“No. I was in complete control then.”
“Were you out of control when you killed a girl just a few days ago?”
“No.”
“So how many times in your career have you lost control?”
Nick frowned and began counting on his fingers. He seemed to lose his place and started counting again, his lips moving soundlessly. Finally he put his hand down and looked at Godney.
“I remember now. Every time I came home and found a friend lying dead, boiled to death in the shower, I just lost it.”
Godney flushed as a ripple of laughter washed through the spectators.
“You think this is funny?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Do you think this is funny?”
“Objection! Asked and answered.”
“Sustained. Move along, Mr. Godney.”
Godney consulted his notes.
“I think you’re funny,” Nick said with a straight face.
Godney’s face swelled and fused with color.
“Your Honor! Move to strike!”
“Let the witness’s last comment be stricken from the record. Marshal Walker, behave yourself.”
“Yes, sir.”
Godney returned to his table, picked up a transcript, and took a moment to collect himself. He returned to stand in front of Nick.
“Marshal Walker, do you fight fair?”
“Excuse me?” Nick’s eyes narrowed.
“It isn’t a hard question.”
“I know it isn’t, but I wanted to make sure I heard you correctly.”
“You heard me correctly. Now answer the question—do you fight fairly?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Godney actually looked surprised. “No? I thought you said you are a fair man.”
“I am. All things being equal, I think I’m as fair-minded as anyone I know. But it’s different in a fight.”
Godney toyed with a smile, sensing a weakness.
“How is it different in a fight?”
“People who fight fair die young.”
“Really!”
“Yes, really. Mr. Godney, can I ask you a question?”
Godney, his optimism returning, smiled.
“Your Honor, with the Court’s indulgence?”
“Granted.”
Godney nodded. “Go ahead. Ask me a question.”
Nick leaned slightly forward.
“You and I are not the same size, and according to you, I have a reputation for violence. Now, if you and I were to square off and do battle, wouldn’t you want to be holding the biggest stick you could find?”
Godney stared at him and slowly turned red.
“That’s different,” he said.
“How is it different?”
“You’re talking about a fistfight. I’m talking about a gunfight.”
“You never said gunfight. You just said ‘fight’.”
“Then let me rephrase the question. In a gunfight, do you fight fairly?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Why not?”
“When the gunfight is over, I want to still be breathing.”
Victoria Cross got to her feet again.
“Your Honor, is this safari going to bring anything home?”
“Mr. Godney?”
“As I said earlier, your Honor, it goes to the defendant’s state of mind.”
“I don’t see the relevance.”
“He claims to be fair-minded, yet he wants the advantage in a gunfight. He’s killed more than twenty men, and I submit that in at least some of those incidents he took unfair advantage of their relative weakness when he killed them.”
“That’s more than state of mind, counselor. It goes to his very character.”
“Exactly, your Honor! Thank you.”
“Miss Cross?”
“Permission to voir dire the witness, your Honor? I won’t take long.”
Godney spun around. “Objection!”
“Stand still, Mr. Godney. Yo
u opened the door.” Judge Moore nodded at Victoria. “Keep it brief, counselor.”
Victoria strode toward the witness box. Voir dire, Latin for “to get the truth”, was generally reserved for jury selection, but under Federation Rules of Evidence, could also be used to clarify a witness’s testimony. Victoria gazed into Nick’s eyes.
“Marshal Walker, in the gunfights that have been mentioned during this hearing, how many times were you outnumbered?”
“Most of the time.”
“How many times did the men you killed have the ‘drop’ on you before you killed them?”
“Two or three times, at least.”
“When you were outnumbered, or when you were staring into the barrel of someone else’s gun, did you feel you had an unfair advantage over your opponent?”
“No.”
“Have you ever killed anyone when you had an unfair advantage over them?”
“No.”
“No further questions.”
Victoria returned to her table and sat down. Godney trotted toward the witness stand.
“Marshal Walker, did Fred Ferguson have you outnumbered?”
“No.”
“Did he have a gun trained on you?”
“No.”
“When you shot Fred Ferguson in the ear, did he have an unfair advantage over you?”
“No, but I didn’t kill him, either. I just made him think I was going to.”
“That isn’t the point! You said—”
Moore rumbled in his chest.
“Mr. Godney, you specifically told this Court a few minutes ago that this line of questioning related to men that Marshal Walker has killed. Now you’re talking about someone he did not kill.”
“Your Honor—”
“Put it in reverse, counselor. No more questions on this topic.”
Victoria had been on her feet to enter another objection, but now took her seat. Moore was on top of it.
Godney returned to his table and picked up another transcript. He walked slowly back to face the witness.
“Marshal Walker, do you enjoy killing people?”
“No.”
“Do you enjoy hurting people?”
Nick hesitated. Godney took a step closer, his expression hopeful. Nick frowned suddenly and leaned forward, peering at Godney’s chest. He pointed.
“You have something on your tie.”
“What?” Godney’s chin dropped to his chest and he fingered the necktie as Nick pointed to the spot in question. Before he could register what was happening, Nick’s finger flipped up into his nose, causing his head to jerk upward in shock.
“Got it,” Nick said with innocent eyes.