by John Bowers
It was over in the space of three seconds, but the courtroom exploded into laughter. People choked for air as tears flowed from their eyes.
Godney’s face flushed redder than a binary sunset.
“OBJECTION! I OBJECT!”
“I heard you the first time,” Moore snickered.
“Marshal Walker is making a MOCKERY of these proceedings! I insist—no, I demand he be held in contempt of Court!”
But Moore didn’t answer. He covered his mouth with one hand while his entire body trembled like a low-intensity SoCal earthquake. Victoria Cross buried her face in both hands and tried to fight back the howls, but the first time she caught a breath, shoulders shaking, she broke into peals that reverberated from the ceiling. The entire courtroom was in hysterics, more so when they saw Moore’s and Victoria’s reaction. Nick Walker sat innocently watching them, a little grin on his face. Brian Godney finally stopped dancing and turned in a slow circle, his eyes sweeping the courtroom in mute witness to the state of his popularity.
For the first time ever, Nick actually felt sorry for him.
Judge Carlos Moore finally hammered with his gavel. His voice was weak but stern.
“Court is in recess. Nobody leaves the room.”
Nick looked up at the bench as the judge stumbled down the three steps to his exit, then looked toward where Victoria had collapsed onto the table with her face buried in her arms, unable to stop laughing; Geraldine Gabbard, mouth open, was staring at the ceiling while tears streamed from her eyes. Some spectators had quieted, but not all; the bailiff was grinning, Gary Fraites was wiping his eyes. Brian Godney walked back to his table and sat down, his face still red but now hard as stone. He bent his head and pretended to study his laptop.
Nick stepped down from the witness chair and approached Godney, his eyes serious. Godney looked up at him with unmitigated hatred. Nick bent over the table and spoke quietly.
“Mr. Godney, I’m sorry. I never expected this. I didn’t think it was that funny.”
But Godney’s face twisted in a sneer.
“Fuck you, Walker! You can’t talk your way out of this one. Now I’m really going to hang you!”
Nick gazed at him a moment, then straightened up.
“Fair enough. But I mean it—I’m sorry.”
He returned to the witness box.
Judge Moore returned ten minutes later, eyes red, his face damp. He settled down at the bench and used the gavel again.
“Court is back in session.”
He cleared his throat as he swept the room with his eyes.
“I hope everyone got it out of their system,” he began. “I personally apologize for my own behavior. I apologize to Mr. Godney, to the courtroom at large, and to the people of the Federation. This is the first time in my career that I have acted in such an unprofessional manner, and I assure you it will not happen again.”
He turned to Nick Walker, who still sat in the witness chair.
“Marshal Walker, courtroom etiquette dictates that the witness does not, ever, touch any officer of the court without permission. What you did to Mr. Godney might appeal to our baser instincts, but like farting in church, it cannot be tolerated. I give you fair warning that any further such conduct on your behalf will result in a contempt charge and a night behind bars. Am I extremely clear on that point?”
Nick nodded. “Crystal, your Honor.”
“Very well.”
“May I say something else, your Honor?”
“Go ahead.”
“I also apologize to the Court, and to Mr. Godney. I honestly did not intend to disrupt proceedings. I offer no excuse.”
Moore peered at him, then nodded.
“Very well.
“Mr. Godney, you may resume cross-examination.”
Godney approached the witness chair again, but his expression no longer reflected arrogance, confidence, or eager anticipation. Now his eyes burned with a cold rage that made him seem far more formidable than at any time since the hearing began.
“Marshal Walker—” Even his voice was harder, quieter, more intense. “—can you tell us where you were on March 22nd of this year?”
Nick frowned in thought, then shook his head.
“Not for sure.”
“Is it possible that you were in the city of Camarrell?”
“Ah.” Nick nodded. “I’ll take your word for the exact date; I was down that way in March.”
“On the day in question, did you happen to encounter a hostage situation?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Were you involved in the hostage standoff?”
“Not at first.”
“Did you become involved?”
“Yes.”
“Will you please tell the Court what was going on in Camarrell that day?”
“Objection. Relevance?”
“A little latitude, your Honor. I think it will be clear very soon.”
“Overruled. Proceed.”
Nick took a deep breath and tried to remember.
“I was on my way to Centauri Springs. When I got to Camarrell I saw that some kind of police action was in progress, so I detoured to take a look.”
“Did the police invite you to take a look?”
“No. I did that on my own.”
“Please continue.”
“This kid—he might have been sixteen—had pulled some kind of robbery. I’m not sure of the details, but apparently he was about to be arrested as he left the crime scene, so he grabbed a pedestrian as a hostage. The police had him surrounded, but he refused to surrender. He threatened to kill the lady if they didn’t back off.”
“Did they back off?”
“No. They began hostage negotiations with him.”
“How successful was that?”
“At the time I got there, it wasn’t going well.”
“What happened then?”
“I drew my weapon and approached the suspect. I threatened to blow his head off if he didn’t surrender.”
“Did he surrender at that point?”
“Yes, he did.”
Godney nodded; he fixed Nick with a cold gaze.
“So you single-handedly ended the hostage situation.”
“I guess you could say that.”
“And the hostage wasn’t harmed?”
“No, she wasn’t.”
“You were a hero.”
“I wouldn’t say that. The police weren’t exactly thrilled with me.”
Godney turned and strolled toward his table. He reached the end of it and turned.
“Marshal Walker, what did you say to the suspect to cause him to surrender?”
“I told him I would kill him.”
“Is that all you said to him?”
“I—” Nick’s eyes widened a fraction. His face began to turn red. “No, I said a few other things.”
“Please, tell us what else you said to him.”
Nick, feeling guilty for humiliating Godney a few minutes earlier, had gotten involved in recounting the incident and failed to see where Godney was headed. He felt his heart sink.
“Remember, Marshal Walker, you are under oath.”
Nick compressed his lips and nodded.
“I told him I wanted him to shoot the woman.”
Godney bent slightly forward at the waist, arms still crossed.
“You wanted him to shoot the woman?”
“That’s what I told him.”
“What else did you say?”
“I told him…” Nick’s cheeks puffed as he exhaled. “I told him that I couldn’t legally kill him unless he killed the woman first.”
“Was there anything else?”
Nick chewed his lip.
“I told him that—that I hadn’t killed anybody in a couple of weeks and really needed to kill someone. So I…begged him to shoot the woman and give me an excuse.”
The courtroom sat silent as death, all eyes on Nick Walker. Even Suzanne’s eyes narrowed.
Godney straightened up.
“You begged the suspect to shoot his hostage so you could legally kill him, is that your testimony?”
“Yes.”
“You also told him you needed to kill him because you had gone two whole weeks without killing anybody? Is that accurate?”
“Yes.”
“Marshal Walker, do you think that was a reasonable and responsible course of action for a Federation Marshal?”
Nick held eye contact, his face still throbbing.
“It got him to surrender. Nobody got hurt.”
“Nobody got hurt. Certainly that is an admirable outcome, but what would you have done if the suspect had, indeed, shot the woman?”
“I would have killed him.”
“You would have killed him! Wow! That would have done the hostage a lot of good, wouldn’t it?”
“Objection.”
“Withdrawn. Marshal Walker, what made you act so recklessly? Surely you must have known that the suspect—trapped, surrounded, and desperate—was also probably irrational. How did you know he wouldn’t kill the hostage?”
“I saw it in his eyes. He just wanted out of there.”
“I’m sure he did, but maybe, in his tortured mind, killing the hostage was a way out?”
“No. He had rifles on him from four directions, and he was very aware of that. He never took his gun from the woman’s head, because he knew the snipers would take him out the minute he did.”
“You’re speculating, aren’t you? How could you possibly know that for sure?”
“It’s suspect psychology.”
“Oh! You’re not only a Federation Marshal, but now you’re a psychologist as well?”
Nick lowered his voice as if talking to a child.
“It’s part of my training. The U.F. Marshal Academy teaches classes on both victim and suspect psychology.”
“Still, you took a terrible chance. And it seems very self-serving to say, ‘Oh, well, it turned out okay in the end’. Don’t you think?”
“Objection!”
“Overruled.”
“Mr. Godney, any time you deal with frightened people holding guns, there is never a guarantee of anything. You go with the percentages and try to get the job done. In this case, it worked.”
Godney shifted gears.
“Marshal Walker, do you enjoy hurting people?”
Nick drew a deep breath and let it out.
“Sometimes.”
“So you admit it?”
“Sometimes, yes. Would you like an example?”
“Please.”
“Fred Ferguson. Even though the crime he committed wasn’t his own idea, the result was probably the most horrible death I have ever seen. I wanted to hurt him, you bet I did. I wanted to punish him. I wanted him to suffer.”
“And did you make him suffer?”
“Yes, but not nearly as much as I wanted to.”
“You wanted vengeance.”
“Yes.”
“You knew the courts would punish him, yet you wanted to do it yourself.”
“I wasn’t absolutely certain the court would do its job, but even if it did, I knew he wouldn’t suffer a milligram of the pain that Misery Allen did.”
“You took the law into your own hands, didn’t you?”
“For a few minutes, yes.”
“What does that say about you, Marshal Walker? What does that say about you as a man, and in particular, an officer of the law?”
“I think it says that I’m normal.”
“Excuse me?”
“I think everyone has impulses like that, but very few people actually get the chance to act on them.”
“You think everyone is like you?”
“I think most people are. Even you, Mr. Godney.”
“Me!”
Nick leaned forward. “Can you honestly say right now that you don’t want to see me suffer? To be humiliated the way I humiliated you a few minutes ago? Wouldn’t you like to punish me?”
“Your Honor, move to strike as nonresponsive.”
“Granted. Marshal Walker, you are not to question counsel without the Court’s permission.”
“Sorry, your Honor.”
“Noted for the record; now let’s say no more about it. Move on, Mr. Godney.”
Godney waited a few seconds to get his mind on target again.
“You said you like to hurt people. Do you think a man who enjoys the pain of others is fit to wear the badge of a Federation Marshal?”
“Objection. Calls for opinion.”
“I’ll allow it.”
Nick’s cheek twitched.
“Before I answer that, I have to clarify something.”
“Yes or no, please.”
“I can’t answer yes or no. It isn’t that simple.”
“The question is simple enough, Marshal Walker. Does a man who enjoys hurting people deserve to wear the badge? Yes? Or no?”
Nick shook his head.
“Sorry, I can’t give you a yes or no answer.”
“Your Honor?”
Moore looked unhappy. He leaned toward Nick.
“Answer the question, Marshal Walker—unless you want to invoke the Constitution?”
“No, sir, but I refuse to commit perjury.”
“Perjury! Is that what you said?”
“Yes, sir. If I give Mr. Godney the answer he wants, it will constitute perjury.”
“How do you figure that?”
“When I sat down in this chair, I swore an oath to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. A yes or no answer is not the whole truth.”
Moore blinked in surprise. A frown creased his forehead.
“I can order you to answer and throw you in jail if you don’t.”
“Yes you can, but it’s still perjury.”
Moore sat back and stared at him, perplexed. Godney looked at first confused, then angry.
“Your Honor—”
Moore held up a hand. He leaned forward again, his body mass rolling from side to side.
“In all my years on the bench, I’ve never heard that one invoked, nor have I ever heard of it in any other courtroom.” He scratched his ear, then his nose. He continued to stare at the witness. At the defense table both Victoria Cross and Geraldine Gabbard had their heads together, but neither addressed the Court.
Finally Moore heaved a sigh.
“I’ll have to write a paper on this one. Marshal Walker, make your statement.”
Nick nodded and faced the prosecutor again.
“When I said I sometimes enjoy hurting people, I meant exactly that—sometimes. Some people do things so hideous in nature that, whether the law recognizes it or not, they deserve to suffer. Those are the people I enjoy hurting. Just those people and nobody else.
“Now, to answer the question you wanted answered—yes, I think I am qualified to wear the badge.”
Godney stood breathing through his nose, his eyes burning.
“According to your own testimony, as a United Federation Marshal you have killed twenty or twenty-five people. Is that accurate?”
“I think I did say that, yes.”
“Do you feel any remorse for killing those men?”
Before Nick could answer, the judge broke into a coughing fit. For thirty seconds his body heaved as he sucked air back and forth through his fist; his eyes watered. He reached for a glass of water and drank it half down. He coughed a couple more times, then wiped his eyes and tried to clear his throat. His left hand pressed against his chest.
“I apologize. Must have swallowed a bug. Proceed.”
Nick turned to look at Godney.
“I feel bad about Steve Baker—”
“Because he was a U.F. Marshal?”
“Because I don’t believe he deserved to die.”
“He didn’t deserve to die? Then why did you kill him?”
“As I said before, I thought at the time that my life and the lives of the girls under my charge we
re in danger. But from the evidence I’ve seen since then, I don’t think Baker was a criminal.”
“Do you feel remorse for any of the others?”
“I feel terrible about Nadine Wilson.”
“And why is that?”
“She was just a kid, for one thing, and I believe she was brainwashed into taking the action she did.”
“Do you feel remorse for anyone else?”
“No.”
“And you still feel justified wearing the badge?”
“Yes.”
Godney shook his head in wonder.
“Marshal Walker, you are a piece of work!”
“Objection! Combative.”
“Sustained. Mr. Godney, you will refrain from—”
Moore never finished. He sucked air in a loud wheeze as his entire body went rigid. His already-red face turned a deep purple and his eyes bulged as he tried to suck air into his lungs. Shaking like an aircraft about to stall, he began to slide to his right, slowly at first, then more rapidly. The bailiff started toward him, but before he had gone ten feet, the four hundred-pound judge hit the floor to the right of the bench and skidded down the three steps to the exit door, where he lay curled up like a beached whale. Cries of shock rang through the courtroom and a general clamor drowned out the shouts of Federation officers who rushed toward the fallen judge.
Nick stood up in the witness box and stared in horror; Victoria and Gabbard hurried to his side, their faces masks of surprise, and for several seconds no one seemed to know what to do.
The bailiff reached the judge and bent over him. A moment later he stood up slowly, looking stricken.
“Call an ambulance,” he said to his colleague. “I think Judge Moore may be dead.”
***
As the Federation guard pulled a radio off his belt to call for help, Brian Godney reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small printed card. He gazed at it a moment and then put it away. When he spoke, it was to no one in particular.
“Looks like I won the pool.”
Chapter 24
River Walk – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
Nick, Suzanne, and Victoria Cross were in shock as they exited the Federation Building. The sudden, totally unexpected death of Judge Carlos Moore had hit them like a meteor strike. As they strolled down the River Walk they barely noticed anyone around them.
River Walk was crowded on a Friday noon. The department stores were doing a brisk business, as were the galleries and restaurants. As a refreshing summer breeze washed over them from the river, perhaps a thousand people, including families with children, were scattered in every direction.