by John Bowers
Victoria laid her sandwich down. She already knew the story from news accounts and after-action reports, but to hear it from someone who was actually there was another matter.
“How in God’s name did he survive all that?” she asked.
Kopshevar shook his head.
“I’ve wondered the same thing. Grace of God, I guess. He was the best Star Marine on the planet. He was the best shot, he was the most daring, and he figured he was going to die, so he had nothing to lose. Remember in boot camp when they told us we were already dead? Nick believed it. And that’s what makes a good Star Marine, a man who has nothing to live for except the fight itself. That’s what he was.”
“You know, ever since I heard what happened, I’ve always wished I could have been there, but hearing you tell it…”
“Don’t ever wish that. We had been through some scary shit, but that was the most terrible day of all. It went on for hours, and no one knew if we would win or lose, if we would live or die. But Nick, up there in that tower, gave us all hope. Even after the Freaks fell back and stopped their attacks, when the shooting died down, you could still hear that rifle. All over town. Sometimes it would stop for two or three minutes, maybe five or ten minutes, then you’d hear it again, like the voice of doom. Every time a Freak showed his head, or tried to retreat, or made any move at all, that rifle would blast again. It became pretty much a one-man show.”
“How many did he kill?”
“Officially? Fifty-one. But that’s bullshit. If I had to guess, I’d say maybe two or three hundred. The streets and alleys on the west end of town were covered with blood, and afterward we found dozens of men who crawled away to die later. We also found dozens of wounded who couldn’t go any farther, all of them hit by the sniper.”
Victoria shuddered.
“Maybe I’m glad I didn’t see that.”
“Trust me, you are. I wish I had never seen it. But I’ll tell you what, Vic—and I would say this even if Nick wasn’t already my best friend—that man is a true hero. Not many people get the chance to even meet someone like that, and I’m proud that I knew him.”
“Have you seen him lately?”
“No. I plan to look him up, though. Maybe catch up on old times. I figure he’ll walk through that door one of these days. That’s one reason I chose this location for the bar—with the Federation building just across the street, sooner or later he has to show up.”
He grinned and patted her hand.
“You’d better finish that sandwich before it gets cold. I hope I didn’t kill your appetite.”
She forced a laugh and shook her head.
“I asked, didn’t I? Thanks for telling me, Kopycat.”
“Any time, Vic. So, how are you and Nick getting along? Kiss and make up yet?”
Her smile faded. She shook her head.
“The last time I saw him was in San Diego just before you guys shipped out.”
“Really? That was nine or ten years ago!”
She nodded.
“I figured you must have run into each other here, since you both work for Federation law.”
“Not so far. I don’t think he even knows I’m on the planet. And I hear he has a new love interest now, so I don’t want to get in the middle of that.”
Kopshevar frowned and wiped a wet spot off the bar.
“He was a damn fool to let you go.”
“It was my fault. I told you what happened, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but anybody can make a mistake. It wasn’t like you deliberately cheated on him.”
“But I did cheat.”
“Once. That’s what you told me, right? It only happened once. He should have forgiven you.”
Victoria smiled at his loyalty.
“It’s okay, Kopycat. I survived it and I can live with it. But thanks.”
“Sooner or later, you’re bound to come face to face. What are you going to do then?”
“I’m going to delay that meeting as long as possible. After that…who knows?”
“Well…”
“If you see him, don’t mention me, okay? There’s always a chance he’ll get posted to another planet and that meeting will never happen. That would be better for all concerned.”
Kopshevar shook his head. “Goddammit, Vic!”
“Promise me, Kopycat. Please.”
He sucked a deep breath and stared at her a long moment. Finally he nodded.
“Okay. I don’t like it, because I think he’s still in love with you, but…okay.”
She squeezed his hand again and smiled.
“Thank you. Now, I’ve got to get back. I’ll see you soon.”
Chapter 7
75th Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
James Dillon was forty-nine, but looked sixty, with shaggy grey hair and two days’ growth of salt-and-pepper beard (Victoria sometimes wondered how he maintained that growth; she never saw him clean-shaven, yet the beard never seemed to get any longer). His suits—he had two that Victoria could identify—inevitably fit badly and looked as if they had never been cleaned. His shirts were often decorated with food stains, and he seemed to wear the same red paisley tie every day.
Dillon walked into her office five minutes late and stopped abruptly, staring at her as if she were sitting at his desk. She smiled and waved him to a chair. He took the empty chair next to Godney and leaned back with a loud sigh.
“What did you find out?” Victoria asked.
Dillon’s vacant stare suggested he wasn’t quite sure what day it was, but Victoria knew that was part of his approach—a slightly clueless detective who frequently asked irrelevant questions that kept his subjects off balance. Before speaking, he dropped a folder on her desktop, then kicked back and stretched his legs until his shoe soles were flat against her desk. He clasped his hands behind his neck.
“That is one tight-ass community,” he began. “Nobody wants to squeal on the prophet. As far as they’re concerned, Jesus was his older brother.”
“So you struck out?”
“Not completely. I did find two women who were willing to talk.”
He pointed at the folder, which Victoria picked up.
“Drusilla Downing and her daughter-in-law, Dorcas. Dorcas is Maggie Downing’s mother. Maggie is the girl who—”
“Almost got stoned,” Victoria finished for him. “What did they say?”
Dillon pulled his feet back to a normal position and frowned as he inspected his fingernails. They had dirt under them.
“Thirty or forty years ago, Drusilla had an affair with Antiochus Groening, which resulted in the birth of a son, Ezekiel. Drusilla was still single, and a pregnant girl in that community was—is—scandalous. But a man named Luke Downing took her in and married her as his fourth wife, to protect her from the back-biters.”
Victoria nodded. All of that was in Nick Walker’s arrest report.
“Ezekiel Downing, who was actually Groening’s bastard son, was killed in the battle of Trimmer Springs, presumably by the sniper in the bell tower.”
“Nick Walker.”
“Ezekiel was also Maggie Downing’s father, which makes her Groening’s granddaughter. Groening never acknowledged Ezekiel or Maggie as members of his family, which enraged Drusilla, but since he was the ‘prophet’—” Dillon made quote marks with his fingers. “—there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it.
“But when Groening sentenced the girl to be stoned, Drusilla broke faith with him. She announced to the entire congregation that Groening was the father of her bastard son, and that Maggie was his grandchild.”
“And that didn’t open anyone’s mind?”
“Apparently not. I talked to ten or fifteen cult members, but none of them were willing to take a stance against him. As far as they’re concerned, Groening is still God’s guy and anything he did in his youth is irrelevant. They’re completely brainwashed.”
“I’m surprised you found that many who would ta
lk to you.”
Dillon shrugged. “For every one who did, twenty others refused. But the bottom line is that none of them will talk about previous cases of stoning.”
“What about the Downing women?”
“They were short on details. They admitted there had been previous cases where people were stoned to death, but until it happened to Maggie, it had been more than ten years since the last one. They gave me the names of four victims, but could no longer remember—or didn’t want to remember—the details.
“I found families of three of those victims, but their lips were sealed. They won’t even acknowledge that the stonings took place, much less give information about them. And they sure as hell won’t testify.”
“Will the Downing women testify?”
“Yes, but all they have is hearsay, inadmissible in court. However, they are ready and willing to testify about Maggie’s case, which I think is all you’ve got.”
He shook his head in wonder.
“What a weird bunch! I had no idea that this kind of fanaticism still existed.”
Victoria’s lips compressed in disappointment.
“So we go with attempted murder. And conspiracy to commit murder—Nicodemus Downing will testify in that regard. Can you get the Downing women to come in tomorrow for an interview? We need to nail down their testimony.”
Dillon nodded. “What time do you want them here?”
“Make it nine o’clock.”
“Will do. You got anything else for me?”
“Yes, but I need a day or two to get it together. Check back tomorrow?”
Dillon hopped to his feet.
“Will do. Can you give me a hint?”
“Wallace Frie. I need answers to some questions, but I don’t have them all formulated yet.”
Dillon scowled.
“That rotten bastard! Anything I can do to help you put him away for good. Lloyd Randal was a prick, but he was still one of ours.”
Victoria smiled.
“Thanks, James. Oh, by the way—Brian is going to take the lead on the Groening trial. I’ll be handling Wallace Frie.”
“Okay.”
“So, anything else you come up with on the Groening case, direct it to Brian. But keep me in the loop.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Dillon nodded and, without even a glance at Godney, skated out the door. As soon as he was gone, Godney let out his breath.
“Wow! That guy always weirds me out. I can’t believe he works for ACBI.”
Victoria laughed.
“He’s a little unorthodox, but he does good work.”
She shifted her attention to Godney.
“Did you have some questions to go over?”
Godney brightened.
“Yes! I’ve been studying the Groening file and Walker’s arrest report. This is the most bizarre case I’ve ever seen.”
She laughed. “Better than fiction. You can’t make this stuff up.”
Godney paged through the file folder in his lap.
“The facts seem fairly straightforward, but according to Walker’s arrest report, there were several other men involved in the conspiracy. The church council—”
“Council of Elders.”
“Right. Looks like there were five of them, and they all voted for stoning. Why aren’t we charging them?”
“By rights, we probably should, but that would require more trials and drag on for an eternity. In the end, I don’t think we could convict them, because it was Groening who passed sentence on the girl. The council only voted that she was incorrigible—”
“Which, according to their doctrine, carries an automatic death sentence!”
“Right. I’m not defending any of them, but the defense would argue that they acted according to their religious beliefs, which puts us right back in the quicksand. Groening is the man who formulates their doctrine, who actually has the authority to change that doctrine. In spite of his own teachings, which he took out of the Old Testament, he had options in what to do with the girl. He could have banished her, for example, or imposed some other punitive restrictions, but instead he chose to have her killed. Everything ultimately leads right back to him. He’s the man at the top of the food chain, and I don’t want to water down our case by trying to convict everybody in sight. Nor do I want this office to be perceived as persecuting some religious group just because they’re different.”
Godney’s brow furrowed.
“Okay, let’s say we put Groening away. What happens to that church? Won’t one of those men become the leader?”
“Probably. But if we nail Groening, I doubt any of them would ever order another stoning. They hate outside interference, and they aren’t likely to do anything in the future that draws Federation attention.”
“It’s too bad we can’t put that bunch out of business.”
“I agree, but we can’t. They have a right to their beliefs, and even if we did shut them down, their members would just find another cult.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It was something Nick put in his report.” She pulled up a file on her terminal, found the section she was looking for, and read aloud.
“‘The people in this community are hard-working and loyal. In many respects, their lifestyle is admirable; they are tight-knit and family oriented, but I have never seen such a close-minded group. They have been brainwashed from birth that the outside universe is evil, and seem to have no capacity for independent thought. Trying to reason with them is like talking to so many rocks.’”
She looked up.
“That’s from Nick’s summary at the end of his report.”
“I read that. I’m amazed that Walker is so eloquent.”
“He reads a lot, and he studies history. I heard that in the Star Marines they called him ‘the Perfessor’.”
Godney tilted his head, curiosity in his eyes.
“Do you know him? Outside of work, I mean?”
Victoria stared at him in surprise. Her face slowly turned red as she realized her tone of voice had given her away. For a few seconds she didn’t reply, then inclined her head toward the door.
“Would you close that?”
“Sure.” Godney hopped up and complied, then returned to his chair.
“I’ve never told anyone this, but I’m going to have to trust you with something.”
“Sure, anything. Whatever I can do to help.”
Victoria heaved a sigh.
“When Nick testifies against Groening, if at all possible, don’t mention my name.”
“Okay…”
“I haven’t seen Nick in nearly ten years. We were in boot camp together, and we…became involved. After graduation, he went to war and the Star Marines sent me to law school. Things happened, we drifted apart, and our relationship ended badly. As far as I know, he doesn’t even know that I’m on Alpha 2, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t ever want to see me again. So…I want to avoid him if I can.”
Godney regarded her with narrowed eyes.
“Okay, I can understand that. But even if you avoid him in this trial, eventually there will be other cases, won’t there? You can’t avoid him forever.”
“Maybe not, but I want to delay it as long as I can. U.F. Marshals get shuffled around, so he might get transferred again before we cross paths.”
Godney shrugged.
“Okay, sure. Whatever you need.”
Victoria’s heartbeat slowed a little and she smiled her relief.
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“But…” He grinned. “…sounds to me like you still have feelings for him.”
“It doesn’t matter if I do. It ended years ago and it will stay that way. It’s better if he doesn’t even know that I’m here.”
“That might be a problem. The Frie case is going to draw news coverage. Your name, and probably your face, is going to pop up on holo V.”
“I can’t c
ontrol that. But even if it does, I can still avoid a face-to-face. And he’s a busy man, so chances are that he won’t even watch the news.”
I hope, she didn’t say out loud.
“Was there something else you wanted to talk about? Besides Nick Walker?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
Godney flipped a few more pages.
“What about this Elder Billings guy? According to Walker’s report, he was going to let that kid who stepped on the landmine die without medical treatment. In fact, the kid did die, even after Walker got him to a hospital.” He looked up. “Are we going to charge him?”
“I’m on the fence about that one. All we have is Walker’s testimony, which may not be enough.”
“But the kid died!”
“Yes, but we need witnesses to testify that Billings resisted medical treatment. Nick can only state what he saw when he arrived at the scene—Billings resisted his efforts to get the kid to the hospital—but once again, it falls under religious privilege. The parents were too cowed to object and, according to the report, were terrified that by letting the boy have medical care, they had somehow offended God. Since the boy actually died, they probably think it was God’s punishment and blame themselves for it.”
“Has anyone talked to them?”
“Not yet. After we finish with Groening, I’ll take another look. Maybe send James Dillon to talk to them.”
Victoria suddenly froze in her chair. Her eyes expanded and she sucked in her breath.
“Shit!”
“What?”
She scrolled through the report on her terminal until she found what she was looking for. She stared at the results. Next, she picked up the file James Dillon had left and scanned the names of people he had interviewed.
She let her breath out slowly.
“Aaron Pickard. He lives on the farm next to the dead boy’s family. Nick said he was stubborn and unyielding, but after they located that minefield, he started to loosen up.” She glanced at Godney. “In view of everything that happened, he might be willing to talk about the stonings. And the boy’s uncle, Thomas Hawkins…he was the one who reported the boy’s condition to Nick. He might also be willing to talk. Neither one of them is on the list of people that James interviewed.”