Victoria Cross: United Federation Attorney (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 9)

by John Bowers

  Judge Moore queried Godney about his next few witnesses, decided it was too late in the day to give them justice, and adjourned for the afternoon. The minute the gavel banged, Victoria was on her feet.

  She approached Monte Simpson, who was dejectedly loading his satchel with documents.

  “Can I talk to you a minute?” she asked in a low voice.

  Simpson looked at her as if they’d never met. For a brief moment, she felt sorry for him. He glanced at Groening, then turned back to her.

  “Give me a minute with my client,” he said. “They’re taking him back to the DOC, and I—”

  “Not yet,” she said. “Don’t let them take him. I need to speak to him about another case I’m working, and if he’s willing to help, I can offer him something in return.”

  Simpson’s expression brightened as if someone had opened a floodgate to allow blood to return to his face.

  “Offer him what?”

  “If he’s willing to help, and if he actually can help, I’m willing to drop the conspiracy charge.”

  “Really! That’s the first good news I’ve heard since I got saddled with this case.”

  “I need fifteen minutes of his time. With counsel present, of course.”

  Two Department of Corrections deputies were approaching to remove Antiochus Groening from the courtroom. Simpson intercepted them.

  “Hold on a minute, fellows. I need to conference with my client.”

  “Do it at the jail,” one of them said with a surly expression. He reached for Groening and turned him around to snap E-cuffs on him.

  “Stop that!” Victoria said in a sharp tone. “Maybe you didn’t hear Mr. Simpson. We need to talk to his client.”

  The deputy turned to face her with a dark expression.

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me!” he retorted. “You can talk to him at the D—”

  Victoria grabbed his wrist with her left hand and squeezed. His eyes widened in surprise at her grip.

  “Do you like your job?” she said in a low, threatening tone.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “If you don’t stand down, you’re going to be unemployed in about thirty seconds. Now stand the fuck down!”

  She released his wrist and he took a step back. Simpson, looking amused, tapped Groening on the shoulder.

  “We need to talk.”

  ***

  The deputies followed them into the corridor, but remained outside the conference room as Victoria, Simpson, and Groening settled down facing each other across a wide table. Groening looked annoyed. He glared at the blue-eyed blonde with a sour expression.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he growled.

  Victoria met his gaze squarely.

  “My name is Victoria Cross,” she told him. “I’m an assistant U.F. Attorney.”

  “I know who you are. What do you want with me?”

  “Mr. Groening…”

  She stopped and waved a hand.

  “I’m sorry…Father Groening. I’m working on another case as well as this one, and it occurred to me that you might be able to help.”’

  “Me? How can I help?”

  “All I need you to do is answer a few simple questions. If you don’t know the answers, that’s fine. But if you do…”

  “Why should I help you?”

  “Because I’m willing to drop the conspiracy charge against you. That’s worth twenty-five years. You’ll still go to prison on the attempt murder charge, but that one is only fifteen years.”

  “You’re assuming I’ll be convicted.”

  “Yes, I am. If you’re acquitted, then you’ll walk free, and you won’t ever have to face the conspiracy charge again.”

  Uncooperative by nature, Groening seemed to consider the offer for a few seconds. From the expression on his face, he almost seemed to be in pain for even considering the deal, but apparently the promise of twenty-five years won out. He peered at Simpson.

  “What is your advice?”

  Simpson’s expression almost made Victoria laugh; it was probably the first time Groening had asked for advice.

  “Take it,” Simpson said. “If you can help her out, you win. If you can’t, you haven’t lost anything.”

  Groening cleared his throat, huffed a time or two, and finally nodded.

  “All right. What are the questions?”

  Victoria didn’t realize she’d been tensing her muscles. Now she felt a flood of relief as she opened her satchel and pulled out a stack of flat photos. She laid them face down and turned her gaze on Groening.

  “When Drusilla Downing was on the stand, she said something that got me to thinking. But first I have to know…was she telling the truth when she said you planned the war?”

  “What difference does it make now? Are you going to charge me with that, too?”

  “No. The Federation probably should have done that eight years ago, but they didn’t, and now you’re in the clear. I need to know because it affects the other questions I have for you.”

  Groening shrugged.

  “Well, I guess it’s not a secret. Yes, she was telling the truth.”

  “So…you planned the war, you recruited mercenary allies, you built your army?”

  “Yes. The hardest thing I had to overcome was Reverend Wiest of the Homers. He didn’t want any part of it, so I had to convince him.”

  Victoria nodded, as if impressed by his diplomatic prowess.

  “So you allied with the Homerites, you allied with the mercenaries, you received shipments of weapons for—how long? Months? Years?—before the war actually started.”

  “A couple of years. We had nothing to fight with except hunting rifles. We needed everything. Artillery, automatic weapons, landmines, grenades, sleds, all the ordnance it takes to fight a war.”

  “I understand. And did you, personally, handle the hardware as it arrived? I mean, it didn’t all come in a single shipment, after all.”

  “No, it didn’t. Like I said, it came in gradually over a period of two years.”

  “Did you meet the shipments yourself? Inspect the loads? Take possession?”

  “Of course. That isn’t something I would have trusted to anyone else. Not even my son, Titus.”

  Victoria felt lighter by the second. She reached for the flat photos.

  “Father Groening, I’m going to show you some digital photos. I need to know if you recognize any of these men.”

  She pushed them toward him, face down, but kept her hand on them.

  “This is very important, Father Groening. Please take your time and study each face carefully. Your next twenty-five years depends on what you tell me.”

  She lifted her hand and Groening picked up the digitals. With a rumble deep in his throat, he studied the first one, peering at it as if trying to memorize it. Presently, he laid it face down and picked up the next one. Taking his time, he went through all six photos. Finally he pushed them back across the table.

  “I only recognize one of them,” he said.

  “Which one?”

  “The man who delivered the weapons. I don’t know who the others are.”

  “Did the same man deliver all the weapons?”

  “Yes.”

  “Every load? For two years? You only met one man?”

  “Yes.”

  Victoria stared at him for ten seconds, breathless. Her mouth felt dry. She was almost afraid to ask the next question.

  “Which one?”

  He turned the photos over and picked through them, selected one, and tapped it with his finger.

  “This one.”

  Victoria stared at the photo and her heart all but stopped. She felt weak. Her skin flashed hot and cold.

  She nodded.

  “Thank you, Father Groening. Will you testify to that in court if I call you?”

  “Is that even necessary?”

  “If you want the deal, yes. There’s a good chance I won’t even need to call you, but if I do, I expect you to take the stand.
If you refuse, the deal is off.”

  Groening scowled and muttered to himself.

  “There isn’t any other way?”

  “Well…”

  Victoria hesitated. In open court, Groening might not make a great witness. His manner of dress, his arrogance…they might turn a jury right off.

  “I could take a deposition from you. That would put your testimony on record without you taking the stand.”

  “What’s involved with that?”

  “Just you and me, your attorney, a court stenographer, and a half-hour of your time. I can set it up for later this week.”

  Groening nodded. “I would prefer that.”

  Victoria glanced at Simpson.

  “We have a deal. The conspiracy charge is gone.”

  Chapter 20

  75th Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2

  Victoria was working at her computer when Godney walked into her office without knocking. He looked upset, his face red. His black hair gleamed in the light from the window.

  “What the hell did you do, Vic?”

  “Hm?” She glanced up.

  “I just talked to Simpson downstairs. He’s gloating as if he just won an acquittal.”

  “Oh.” She sat back in her chair. “Sorry. I’m dropping the conspiracy charge against Groening.”

  “You’re what! Without even telling me?”

  “Brian—”

  “You said it was my case. You passed it over to me. And now you make deals behind my back?”

  “I’m sorry, Brian. But Groening has information on the Frie case and the only way I could get it out of him was to offer him something.”

  Godney didn’t look any happier. He took a chair and sat staring at her, breathing hard.

  “You sabotaged my case so you could win your own? Is that what you did?”

  “No! Absolutely not. You’ve got a slam-dunk on the attempt murder charge, and I fully expect Dillon to bring back enough evidence that we can file Murder One as well. Groening will die in prison.”

  “Maybe not. If Dillon doesn’t find the goods on previous stonings, then all Groening will get is fifteen years.”

  “He won’t last that long. He’s almost seventy now, and he’s an ego-maniac. Without his congregation to adore him every waking moment, he’ll wither and die.

  “Anyway, I would have included you except for two things…”

  “What two things?”

  “The DOC deputies were about to take Groening back to his cell, so I had to get to him before they did.”

  “And the other reason?”

  “Truthfully? I needed to make the deal without getting into a public pissing contest with you. I knew you would object and I couldn’t afford to have Groening or his attorney see us arguing. I’m not trying to undermine your case. I want you to win, but I need to win, too.”

  Godney wiped a hand over his eyes, then peered at her again. The blood in his cheeks began to diffuse.

  “What did you get from Groening?”

  She made a face that looked like a wince.

  “Sorry, but I’m sitting on that for the moment. And I’m going to ask you to keep this conversation confidential. Gary gave me a green light to make the deal, but aside from him, you and I are the only ones who know. It has to stay that way.”

  He frowned.

  “You don’t trust the people in this office?”

  “I never said that, but we both know that sometimes stuff gets leaked. In the interest of justice, I have to keep this information close for the time being.”

  He heaved a deep breath and stared out the window. Finally he looked back.

  “You still going to do Maggie Downing’s direct?”

  “Yes. I’m so sorry, but when Drusilla was on the stand, I got this idea and I had to pursue it. But I’ll still take Maggie. When does she go on?”

  “First thing tomorrow. After that, I probably won’t need you.”

  “Okay. You keep quiet about my deal with Groening and I’ll handle Maggie. In the meantime, I need to file the motion to drop the conspiracy charge.”

  He nodded, still looking unhappy. Victoria expected him to leave, but he merely sat there.

  “Was there something else?” she asked.

  “Your friend Walker is an asshole,” he said in a quiet voice.

  Victoria frowned.

  “I thought you two were getting along.”

  “So did I, but he’s just like every other macho prick I’ve ever met.”

  She rested her elbows on the desk, her datawork forgotten.

  “What happened?”

  His eyes seemed to lose their focus as he gazed at a point somewhere between his chair and the desk.

  “It was during a recess this morning. We were just chatting, and I asked him about life in the Star Marines. I mentioned that I had thought about enlisting a few years back.”

  Victoria nodded. She had no idea that Godney had ever even considered enlisting, but this was hardly the time to mention that. She waited.

  “You know what that fuck said to me?”

  “No. Tell me.”

  “He looked me up and down like I was some kind of fucking joke, and then he said they would never have taken me.”

  Victoria remained silent. Godney was two inches shorter than the minimum height requirement for the Star Marines, but again, this was hardly the time to point that out.

  Godney continued.

  “He sort of smirked and told me that if I ever wanted to enlist, I would need to take more vitamins.”

  “Vitamins? He said vitamins?”

  Godney nodded, making eye contact for the first time.

  “Yeah. Vitamins. Can you believe that shit?”

  “I’m sorry he said that. I’m sure he didn’t mean to insult you. It was probably just a thoughtless remar—”

  “Fuck him! He’s an asshole.” His expression softened just a fraction. “Sorry, Vic. I know you’re still hung up on him, but I think you’re better off without him.”

  Victoria could hardly defend Nick for the vitamin crack, but was sure he hadn’t meant to be insulting.

  Godney was in no mood to hear it.

  She responded with a weak smile.

  “You’re probably right. Look, if we’re done here, I need to finish this motion and get it filed before court tomorrow. And I’ll take Maggie first thing.”

  Godney nodded and got to his feet, still looking distracted.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  He walked to the door, then looked back.

  “Your secret is safe with me. Let’s nail Groening and Frie both, okay?”

  She smiled again.

  “I think that’s our job. Let’s do it.”

  *

  Victoria finished her motion to drop the conspiracy charge against Groening and managed to get it to Judge Moore’s clerk before six o’clock. Either she or Godney would bring it to the judge’s attention the following morning for an official ruling, but the datawork was done.

  Heaving a sigh of relief, Victoria scanned the corridor before she left the 71st floor. She didn’t expect Nick Walker to be loitering in the area, but she’d had enough excitement for one day and didn’t need any more. Fortunately, the coast was clear and she made her way out of the building without incident.

  On the street, she called Douglas Hitlin.

  “Hi, Doug. I’m afraid I have to push our meeting tomorrow. I have to be in court at nine, but I can meet you after that.”

  “Okay. After work then?”

  “No, we can do it before noon. I only have one witness to examine, and then I’m done. If you want to wait at the Semper Fi, I’ll meet you the minute I’m done.”

  “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

  “Thanks, Doug. See you then.”

  As she headed across the river on foot, she was once again aware that Jerry Whistler could be waiting for her on the bridge, but she had her gun and she had her body, which should be all the defense s
he would need. Nevertheless, her pulse ran a little hot until she reached her apartment building, at which time she relaxed a little. An hour in the gym sweated the stress out of her, and as she ate dinner, she reflected on what was waiting for her in the morning.

  She hadn’t called the witnesses Hitlin had found, so she still had that to do. She had Maggie Downing’s testimony. And she had a bombshell in her satchel that Antiochus Groening had handed her.

  She still wasn’t sure how she would proceed with the new information, but one thing was clear—one way or another, the Wallace Frie case promised to be a milestone in her career.

  She just hoped her career survived it.

  Tuesday, February 9, 0444 (CC)

  71st Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2

  When court resumed on Tuesday morning, Brian Godney publicly informed the judge of the U.F. Attorney’s decision to drop the murder-conspiracy charge against the defendant. Moore peered at the motion with raised eyebrows, then glanced at Monte Simpson.

  “Does the defense want to weigh in on this?”

  Simpson stood up.

  “The defense has no objection, your Honor.”

  “Mm. Very well, then. Motion granted. The conspiracy charge is history. Any other housekeeping to take care of?”

  “No, your Honor.”

  “Very well. Call your first witness.”

  “The Federation calls Magdalene Downing.”

  A stir ran through the courtroom. Finally, the primary victim was about to be heard. Media people craned their necks to get a look when the courtroom door opened and a teenage girl was escorted inside.

  Maggie Downing was not a beautiful girl, but she was a pretty one, her flowing red hair being her best feature. She might have been five or six pounds overweight, but it was hardly noticeable. Unlike the first time Victoria had met her, today Maggie was wearing a new, modern dress. Instead of a full skirt, this dress was a body-hugger, enticingly outlining Maggie’s ample curves. She was also wearing high heels, but didn’t seem too steady on them. When she turned to face the courtroom, Victoria was surprised to see that she was wearing lipstick, eye shadow, and painted fingernails. If Maggie had been a plain but pretty girl before, the additional color was transformative. Now she was downright sexy.