Mrs. Beckwith’s face reddened, and she half stood from the witness chair. “That’s a lie! I was driving my own car that night!”
Kara stood for a moment at the podium, Mrs. Beckwith’s words ringing in the room. She waited until the witness sat down, and then she walked over to the defense table and picked up a notebook. “Yes, of course you were. I have it in my notes here somewhere . . .” She made a show of paging through a spiral notebook, looking for the correct page. “Here it is. I spoke to one of the gardeners who works at your quarters. He told me that on the morning after Sheila Worthy’s murder, you asked him to change a flat tire on your Lexus sedan.” She looked up at Mrs. Beckwith. “It would have been the Lexus you were driving on the night in question, isn’t that right, Mrs. Beckwith?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember getting a flat tire, ma’am?”
Mrs. Beckwith’s face went blank, registering momentary confusion. Her eyes followed Kara as she walked to the defense table, picked up a plastic bag, and put it in full view of the members of the panel on top of the podium. “Do you know what this is, Mrs. Beckwith? This is a sample of mud that I removed from the flat tire of your Lexus sedan when it was downtown at a gas station getting repaired. I ran this mud through a geological testing lab at the University of Georgia, and the report I received from the lab"—she picked up a folder with a light blue cover—"established with a probability of less than one tenth of one percent that the mud taken from your tire came from the river bottoms of Fort Benning where Sheila Worthy’s car and body were found.”
Major Sanders rose slowly from his chair. “Your Honor, I’m going to object. Counsel for the defense—”
Kara loudly interrupted him: “Mrs. Beckwith, can you explain to this court how mud from the riverbank where I found Sheila Worthy’s car got on the tire of the Lexus sedan you were driving the night she was murdered?”
The courtroom was totally silent as Colonel Freeman removed his reading glasses and used the arm of his robe to carefully wipe them clean. “Counsel for the defense and counsel for the prosecution will proceed to chambers.”
Freeman sat down behind the desk in his office and perched the reading glasses on the tip of his nose and peered over them at Kara. “Are you going to move to introduce the mud and the report from the University of Georgia into evidence, Counselor? Because if you are, I’m going to deny your motion. You’ve got evidence that was seized without a search warrant, making your geological report useless.”
“If you deny me the evidence from Mrs. Beckwith’s tire, I’ll move to introduce into evidence the volunteer duty roster from the thrift shop, which Mrs. Bennett gave to me. The thrift shop duty roster will establish that Mrs. Beckwith was the thrift shop volunteer on each of the days preceding a report that a knife was missing from their stock. Then I’ll make a motion to compare the witness’s fingerprints with the partial prints found on the knives. Then I’ll ask for a warrant to search Mrs. Beckwith’s personal belongings, among which I am certain we will find the kind of camera and lens that experts have testified took the photographs of the deceased women that the prosecution put in evidence. Then I’ll call a witness who will establish that Mrs. Beckwith had both the means and opportunity to plant the knives and the photographs in the defendant’s apartment. Then I’ll call General Beckwith and remind him that he is under oath, and I will question him about the affairs he was having with both Sheila Worthy and Lannie Fulton Love. And after we establish Mrs. Beckwith’s motive to kill the women who were having adulterous affairs with her husband, I will ask for a dismissal of the charges against Captain Taylor, and I will personally go to the provost marshal and file double murder charges against Mrs. Beckwith myself.”
The standing room in the back of the court was filled with soldiers in uniform. Colonel Freeman looked down from the bench. “Do you have a motion, Major Guidry?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I do. I move to dismiss the charges of premeditated murder against Captain Taylor. We are prepared to present testimony implicating Mrs. William Beckwith in the murders of both Lieutenant Worthy and Captain Love.”
“Do you have a response, Major Sanders?”
Sanders stood. “Sir, the prosecution understands that the defense has evidence that Mrs. Beckwith was on duty at the child-care center at the time the knives from the thrift shop were found to be missing, and that there is fingerprint evidence establishing that the partial prints found on the knives belong to Mrs. Beckwith. We intend to reopen the investigation into both murders, and notify Mrs. Beckwith that she is the target of this investigation. The prosecution has no objection to the defense motion.”
“So ordered. The charges in this matter are dismissed with prejudice. They can never be filed again against this innocent and honorable man.” He looked straight at Randy, who was standing next to Kara. “The United States Army and the people of these United States of America owe you an apology, Captain. I hope you will find it in your heart to accept it.” He struck his gavel hard on the mahogany desk. “The charges against the defendant having been dismissed, this court-martial is adjourned.”
As they were leaving, Sanders walked up and extended his hand. “Excellent job, Counselor.”
“Thank you, Howard. I did my best.”
“You never got around to telling us who received the call from Sheila Worthy to General Beckwith’s staff car.”
“He did. He was lying.”
“You can prove that, I presume.”
She clapped Sanders on the back. “Howard, I’m finished with this case. You prove it.”
There was a mob of reporters waiting outside, and it took Kara and Randy almost an hour to make their way through them. Afterward, Kara was walking alongside Randy toward the Cherokee, parked across the street next to the football field. A platoon ran past, screaming, “If I die in a combat zone, box me up and ship me home.” It occurred to her that Fort Benning felt like Fort Benning again for the first time in months.
Mace was standing next to the car with General Teese.
“You did a hell of a job in there, Major Guidry,” said Mace.
“Not bad, huh?”
General Teese shook Randy’s hand. “A new day.”
“Yes. It is a new day.” He hesitated for a moment. “You came.”
“Yes. I asked Kara not to tell you I was here.”
“You were going to testify.”
“If you needed me.”
Mace cleared his throat. “Did you hear the news, sir?”
“What news?” asked Randy.
“The President announced his pick for chief of staff.”
“I guess General King beat Beckwith after all,” said Kara.
“The President picked General Ranstead.”
Randy raised a fist in the air. “Yes!”
Kara laughed. “Sometimes justice has a very, very good day.”
Randy shook Kara’s hand. “I’ve got to tell you, I had my doubts about whether or not we could get a fair trial.”
“The law is as fair as you make it, Randy. This time the system yielded to all the pushing and shoving we did. Next time, who knows?”
After Randy and General Teese left, Kara unlocked the Cherokee and put her briefcase in the backseat. Mace was standing next to the car at parade rest, his hands clasped behind his back. His voice was a hoarse whisper:
“So, you want to give it another shot?”
“It’s going to take all of our talents at cover and concealment. The Army’s rules haven’t changed in the last few days, that I’m aware of.”
“That’s okay by me. They’ll never catch us.”
“They’ll come after me. The ones loyal to Beckwith are going to want revenge.”
“Let ’em come.”
“They’re probably looking at us right now,” said Kara, glancing around.
“So let’s give ‘em a show.” He snapped to attention and saluted. “Permission to carry on, ma’am.”
She smiled at him, return
ing the salute. “Carry on, Sergeant.”
LUCIAN K. TRUSCOTT IV
lives in Los Angeles with
his wife and daughter.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1997 by Lucian Truscott Co. Inc.
ISBN: 978-1-4976-6352-7
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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